‘I nearly did. But I couldn’t because I love you.’
She turned, knowing she should slap him again for daring to toy with her emotions that way. But something in his tone stayed her hand.
‘That is an extraordinary statement,’ she said coldly.
‘But true.’
‘Well, you’ve had a strange way of showing it since.’
Denser looked up at her, his eyes glinting in the dim light. ‘I can’t be all that you need right now. If I’m honest, I do feel that I’ve made a huge sacrifice. Not just for you but for The Raven. But when it came to it, I couldn’t betray the faith you had shown in me. All of you. And much as Dawnthief tried to beguile me into taking the world with me, I couldn’t do it.’ He let his gaze drop back to the grass. ‘It’s funny. I never thought I’d live to see the spell cast but, when casting, my desperation that you should live overcame the terrible desire to see my life’s work completed.’
Erienne sat next to him and placed an arm around his neck, stroking his face where she had slapped it.
‘And now you have the chance to carry on a new life’s work, my love,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve spent all your life learning to destroy but, you and me, we’ve created something. You can make sure it isn’t allowed to die.’ She realised he was shaking. Whether it was chill or emotion she didn’t know for a while but when he turned to her he took her hands in his, and his face was wet with tears.
‘It’s what I want more than anything but inside I feel cheated. Don’t you see? Everything in my life has been peripheral to that damned spell ever since I can remember. It was drummed into me so hard there was no room for anything else. But now it’s gone and I have no centre, no core to keep me wanting to live through trouble and come out the other side.’ He brushed a hand across her cheek. ‘I know how hard that must sound for you and I know it’s wrong to feel that way but I do. What if I can never feel the way I did before? What if I can’t want something else as much as I wanted Dawnthief?’
‘You will, love. Trust me. All you have to do is try.’ She kissed his mouth gently, letting her tongue caress his lips. He forced her mouth open, his kiss becoming urgent, his hands suddenly at her back, pressing her to him. She warmed to his touch, wanting him but instead she pushed him away.
‘It’s not quite that easy,’ she said, feeling the heat in her face and the flutter of her heart. Their faces were close and he was smiling that genuine smile she had loved the first time she saw it but feared she’d seen for the last time.
‘But all this was put here for us. A soft patch of grass, the sound of the river and a hint of moonlight. It would be rude to pass it by.’
‘You ignore me for days and now this?’
‘Got to start somewhere.’ He moved a hand to caress her breast. She wanted to pull away but couldn’t find the will. And as she let herself be lain on her back, his kisses smothering her in repeated sensual blooms, she thought she heard footsteps creeping back towards the camp.
Sha-Kaan rested a while. Tiring of Flamegrass, he devoured the carcass of a freshly slaughtered goat. It took the edge off his hunger.
He contemplated his conversation with Hirad Coldheart, impressed at the human’s strength but unsure of the wisdom of his decision nonetheless. If it didn’t work, he knew he could move on but the thought of Hirad Coldheart’s inevitable death in that circumstance gave him no comfort. He had gambled and that was not something he did lightly.
And now he had to act. He crushed and swallowed the last of the bones, followed them with a bale of Flamegrass and shifted out of Wingspread, a command to attend flashing from his mind to a Kaan of whom he had need.
Sha-Kaan materialised in the river and drank long from its cool flow. Above him, the mist parted and a large young Kaan dropped into the Broodland, wings braking his descent, feet seeking purchase a little clumsily on an area of flat, pitted rock, his talons goring it deeply.
The Great Kaan picked his head from the river and rose up, his neck forming the formal ‘s’, his torso upright, the duller yellow scales of his belly exposed, front legs flat, his wings twitching for balance. He gazed at the young Kaan who mirrored his bearing but whose head was bowed in respect.
Elu-Kaan reminded him of himself at the same age - strong, large, confident in his abilities, yet nervous in the presence of his elders.
‘Skies greet you, Elu-Kaan,’ he said.
‘I am honoured by your call, Great Kaan,’ Elu responded.
‘I have work for you. Your Dragonene is, I understand, a mage residing in the Balaian city of Julatsa?’
‘Yes, Great Kaan, though I have not taken contact for several cycles. I have been fortunate in battle.’ His head bowed further, though his mind was as proud as it should be.
‘Fortune, it was not. Skill is your saviour.’ Sha felt a surge of pride from the youngster at his compliment. ‘But now I need you to travel interdimensional space to speak with your Dragonene, if you are able. The mages have protected their College with an energy derived from the dimension of the Arakhe. I fear that the gateway will be feeding power to the Arakhe and I cannot allow them ungoverned access to Balaia. Find out whether your portal can penetrate it but do not risk your life. There is risk in what I ask. Withdraw the moment you feel them press; they are a difficult enemy.’
‘I will begin at once.’ The young Kaan raised his head to assure Sha-Kaan of his intent.
‘Elu,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘I must have an answer when the orb darkens the Skies.’
‘Yes, Great Kaan.’
‘I will be gone from the Broodlands for a short time. I must speak with the Veret. If I do not return, you must pick up the signature of Hirad Coldheart of The Raven. It will reside in the Mind of Wingspread and you alone have my permission to enter if I should die.’
‘I am honoured, Great Kaan.’
‘You are still young, Elu, but the greatness is in your heart, mind and wings. Learn from me and become Great Kaan yourself in time.’ Sha-Kaan stretched his wings. ‘May the Skies be clear for you.’
‘And you, Great Kaan. Be careful. The Brood needs you.’
Sha made no response. Calling his farewells to the Brood, he flew from the valley, heading north for the Shedara Ocean.
The skies were calm, the cloud high and the winds in the upper strata aided his flight. After exchanging greetings and instructions with the gateway defence, he climbed high above the cloud layer and drank in the radiance of the orb and the beauty of his world.
From the heights, the tranquillity lifted his heart and, for a beat, he could believe the world was at peace. Warm yellow-orange light flooded the sky, reflecting from the clouds and sparkling in his vision. He closed his inner lids and focused his mind below.
Nothing impinged on his consciousness. No flights of dragons moved the air contours, no clash of minds filled the void with noise, no barks told of battles to come, no cries of pain told of battles lost. Satisfied, he increased his wing beats and tore across the sky.
The Shedara Ocean filled the northern hemisphere. Where the vast lands of Dormar and Keol ended, so it began, its vastness punctuated only by islands, reefs and drifts of sand, immense on the tide, nothing in the flood. But it was a short-sighted dragon that ignored the land masses, however temporary their hold on dry air. The Veret, though marine in all their biology, chose to nest and breed in caves and hides where the sea was not forever above their heads.
Sha-Kaan knew where the Veret chose to Brood and he flew deliberately through the centre of their mind net before banking steeply up to await the inevitable response. It was not long in coming.
A flight of Veret, six strong, ploughed through the moist air to meet him, their aggression plain. Sha-Kaan defused their ire before they had a chance to close for the fight.
‘I would speak with Tanis-Veret, my altemelde,’ he said, knowing the name of their Elder Veret and the link to a long-standing kinship would stay their fire. ‘I am Sha-Kaan.’
Spiralling up through the heig
hts, the Veret called challenges and warnings, daring him to descend towards their Broodlands beneath the waves. Their aquamarine blue scales flashed wet in the sunlight, their wings drove them up at speed, their streamlined bodies causing precious little resistance. He watched them turn, assessed the confidence of their movement and concluded he would likely be killed if they attacked him. He remained on station, circling slowly, the Veret forming a holding group around him, left, right, in front, behind, above and below. Sha-Kaan could feel their awe of him but also anger and, in one to his right, hate.
‘You will not break from us as we descend. You will not call, you will not pulse,’ said the Veret with hate on his mind.
‘I understand,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘You realise I am no threat to you. I have come alone to talk.’
‘It is our way,’ said another, more reverence in his tone. ‘All visitors must be escorted to the Broodlanding.’
‘Care cannot be over-estimated.’
The flight dived steeply, reining in their natural speed to account for Sha-Kaan’s less aerodynamic frame. They were heading for a small rock island at the edge of which great towers of rock jutted up in five places.
‘Land centrally.’ Sha-Kaan was ordered. The flight pulled away. Sha-Kaan feathered his huge wings, braking quickly to drop vertically between the rock spires on to the sea-drenched main outcrop. Almost immediately, the water ahead of him rippled, boiled and exploded outwards. Tanis-Veret broke surface, dragging a mass of ocean with him that tumbled back into the frothing turbulence he left behind and soared into the sky, an arrow punching through the air, a call of greeting bouncing from the crannied stone. Tanis-Veret turned full somersault and landed at the very edge of the island, tail drawing moisture from the ocean, the ripples of his exit from the water expanding still as he settled.
‘There is nothing like the wind on wet scales,’ said Tanis. ‘You are far from home, Sha-Kaan.’
‘This is far from an ordinary situation,’ replied the Great Kaan. ‘I greet you, Tanis-Veret.’ He lifted his neck to the formal ‘s’, meeting the gaze of his equal.
‘And I you.’ Tanis’ short neck couldn’t form as Sha-Kaan’s but he picked up his torso to sit upright, exposing as Sha did, his belly scales.
Above them, the Veret flight broke and dived into the sea, their perfect entries minimising splash and ripple as they disappeared beneath the swell.
‘I do not feel we need them, do you?’
Sha-Kaan inclined his head.
‘Your trust is welcome and is reciprocated.’
‘Speak, Sha-Kaan, though I think I know your subject.’
‘I will speak plainly. It is my belief that you have allied with the Naik in a battle that is not your concern nor which could possibly benefit your Brood.’
Tanis looked away, a cough rippling his chest, the dulling scales a sign of his great age. He was far older than Sha-Kaan but in the tight Brood structure that was the Veret way, his authority and ability to lead would never be questioned. Only in death would a successor be appointed. For the Kaan, mind strength was critical and Sha knew that one day Elu-Kaan would beat him and he would take his place among the Elder-Kaan, revered but peripheral.
‘Sha-Kaan, this is a time of great peril for the Veret. Our birthings have slumped, protection for our carrying females has to be our primary concern and this leaves too few to defend our borders against attack.’
‘So I was right.’ Sha-Kaan’s anger flared. He felt some small pity for Tanis but it was overwhelmed by contempt. ‘Why didn’t you come to me?’
‘The Naik were already here. They had the strength to finish us there and then. We had no choice.’
‘Naik!’ spat Sha-Kaan, a gout of smoke firing from his mouth. ‘But after. Why not send a flight to me after?’
‘They would know. They knew of our trouble. They knew we would have to furl wing to them.’
Sha-Kaan stared hard at Tanis-Veret, disappointment now burying his contempt. The Veret Elder was broken and bowed. He had not even the strength to try and free his Brood. Surely the Naik would finish them anyway. He said so.
‘Perhaps,’ said Tanis. ‘I have to trust they will not.’
‘You are letting your Brood die,’ said Sha-Kaan angrily. ‘I came to offer help. Maybe I should just leave you to fade away.’
‘How can you help? Your Brood is stretched, a gateway to your melde-dimension hangs in the sky for all to see. You fight for your own survival.’
‘And you add to the struggle by aiding the Naik. Do you not see?’
‘I must protect my Brood above all others, please respect that.’ Tanis looked skywards, his eyes nervous.
‘No one is near.’
‘They are always near.’
‘Last light was the most painful I have suffered for many cycles,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘I killed one of your Brood who chased down and fired my Vestare. Another of my Brood died in a diving embrace, punctured by a Veret. Others of my Brood either chased off or killed more Veret. We are not at war with you, Tanis; why must you fight us?’
‘Because if we do not, we will be extinguished.’ Tanis would not look at Sha-Kaan.
‘I understand your problem and the confusion it must cause you. But I am here now and my Brood will protect you if you break your alliance of fear with the Naik.’ Sha-Kaan moved for the first time since he landed, extending his wings and rising up on his hind legs in a gesture of intent. His massive bulk dwarfing the smaller Veret, his wings casting a broad shadow over the island and his claws dragging scars in the rock beneath him.
Tanis stretched his jaws, his brows furrowing, the spikes across his skull ridge catching a reflection off the water.
‘You do not have the Brood strength to protect us from the Naik.’
‘But it’s like this, you see,’ said Sha-Kaan very calmly. ‘We are at war with the Naik, as we are with a number of minor Broods, because they determine to fly through our gateway. They have allied with you and, we expect, other Broods they can threaten successfully. We have no choice but to be at war with these Broods too. Break your alliance. Trust me. Trust the Kaan.’
‘Sha-Kaan, I cannot.’
‘Then we will continue to destroy your Brood wherever it is a threat. And if that threat grows, then the next time you see me here, it will be at the head of an echelon. Try to avoid us where you can. I will not see the Kaan fail.’
‘I am sorry it is this way.’
‘It is in your power to change it, Tanis-Veret. Should you do so, you know I will hear you.’
Tanis met Sha-Kaan’s eyes again at last. ‘You should leave. I will not relay your message until you have cleared my skies.’
‘Fair winds, fair tides be with you,’ said Sha-Kaan.
‘Beat the Naik.’
‘I will,’ said Sha-Kaan. ‘The tragedy is that you do not believe I will.’ He took to the air, calling his farewell and rose back to the relative safety of the upper layer where the winds blew the anger from his mind.
Chapter 19
Trees jutted into the path three hundred yards from the camp, the elbow they created obscuring the onrushing cavalry. Aware that the sound of their hoofbeats must be clearly audible, Darrick roared the order to split and charge.
In front of him, the horse archers increased their pace, a dozen swordsmen flanked them and five mages trailed them, each invoking a HardShield. They kept to the outside of the path, aiming to attack the watch-towers as Darrick brought the rest of the cavalry into the main body of the camp.
The General dug his heels in and his horse responded. He tore around the elbow at the head of his cavalry just as the first volleys of arrows were exchanged, those of the Wesmen bouncing, while those of his men hit home. He never ceased to wonder at the skill of horseborne archers. Gripping only with their thighs they compensated for the movement of a galloping horse and still managed to shoot accurately. He saw four Wesmen fall in the first volley.
The encampment was in no way prepared for an organised cava
lry charge. Not for any attack, come to that. There were no close furrows of tentage, no narrowing path down which an enemy might be driven and no killing ground. Though the camp was roughly organised, it was with one goal only - to facilitate the storage and onward movement of supplies across the Bay of Gyernath. It was paradise for the tactically aware General and, in Ry Darrick, the Wesmen were facing the best.
Darrick ordered the split, holding up a gloved hand and pointing first left, then right and backing it up with a yelled command. He galloped down one side of the stores, a mirror force taking the other. Swords flashing in the afternoon sun, they rode through the camp, hacking aside the ineffective defence, slashing at rope, canvas and beam, collapsing tents on to helpless Wesmen and simply riding down any who got in their way. Clear through to the beach rode Darrick and his cavalry, wheeling in the shallow surf and pausing then to assess the damage they’d caused.
The watch-towers were home to corpses now, his archers waiting for their next orders. In the main body of the camp, cries for aid mixed with those of anger as Wesmen struggled to come to terms with the whirlwind that had engulfed them, those trampled by hooves picking themselves up if they could, the defence beginning to gain shape. But they were too few and too late.
‘Mages, fire please.’ Sounding like an invitation, the order was met by two dozen FlameOrbs arcing across the sky to fall among the defenders, igniting their camp and stirring the chaos. Barely had the screams of the burning reached his ears than Darrick called the second charge and mêlée.
Almost two hundred cavalry rode into the middle of the Wesmen, trampling scorched canvas under hoof, bloodied swords rising and falling on the confused workers and warriors whose easy peace had been so effectively shattered. From the path, archers picked off any threat and mages using MindMelt, ForceCone and concentrations of DeathHail smashed fence, flesh, brain and stone. It was all over in no time.
The Raven Collection Page 79