‘It’s bad,’ said Erienne gently. ‘But it’s not our primary concern, is it, Ilkar?’ After what seemed an eternity, Ilkar shook his head.
‘Kerela, we have not come here to help in the salvation of Julatsa.’ He licked his upper lip before continuing. ‘There is a threat to Balaia far greater than the Wesmen and The Raven are charged with halting it before it consumes us all, the Wesmen included.’
Kerela was quiet for a while. Denser maintained a considered silence, choosing to light his pipe and confine his reactions to noddings or shakings of his head. For once, Hirad was glad of his reticence.
‘But Dawnthief. Didn’t that guarantee us victory?’ she asked, confusion dancing across her expression.
‘Over the Wytch Lords, yes,’ said Erienne. ‘However, the casting has led to a tearing of the fabric of our dimension and it’s a tear that is growing with every breath we draw. It links us to the dragons and eventually it will be too big for the Kaan to defend in their own space. Then we will have invasion by dragons.’
Kerela’s silence was longer this time. There was a curious symmetry with the dimensional damage they described and the sudden extraordinary strength of the demons’ fight to stop them dispersing the Shroud. She examined the faces of The Raven, searching for the lies and treachery that she already knew she would not find, and for the truth she knew she would find but did not want to believe.
‘What is it you’re looking for?’ she asked.
‘Septern’s texts,’ said Erienne almost before Kerela’s words were out. ‘Anything that will help us close a dimensional portal. A big one.’
Kerela nodded but spread her hands. ‘Of course, access is yours. I’m sure Barras will confirm your words when he has finished with whatever he has to do. I suggest you begin in the Heart once our Communion is complete. Barras moved a number of key texts there and many of Septern’s will be among them. But the Library contains better than a hundred of his works and associated researches. The duty mage will help you but it could be a long search.’
‘We have two days at most,’ said Ilkar, rising.
‘Meantime,’ said Hirad. ‘If you’ll allow, General Kard, you might benefit from talking to The Unknown Warrior and myself. If we’re to fight for you, we need a say in how the defence is conducted.’
Kard bridled. ‘I am well aware how to conduct a siege defence,’ he said.
‘But we are The Raven,’ said Hirad. ‘And we’ve been in more sieges than you could ever dream of. From both sides. Please, I insist.’
Kerela laid a hand on Kard’s arm and nodded. ‘Anything that might help us, we should use.’
Kard nodded. ‘Very well, though I doubt you’ll change the structure I have made.’
‘So do I. But if we can improve upon one segment, it will be worth our while. The Unknown is in the infirmary.’
Kard gestured at the door. ‘Come on. The Wesmen won’t wait long.’
The Unknown Warrior had lain Will on a bed in the mercifully empty infirmary, knowing that neither poultices nor any manner of compresses or infusions would help. The little man was far beyond conventional intervention.
Thraun sat up at the bedside, occasionally licking Will’s face reflexively but mostly just staring, his yellow eyes moist and large, his expression plainly desperate. The Unknown stroked him absently while Will was examined, following a précis of what had caused his condition.
The infirmary was a low stone and slate-roofed structure, the walls decked in bright tapestries and punctuated by windows. It held twenty well-spaced beds in two rows of ten, though The Unknown knew it would soon hold three or four times that many wounded and be wholly inadequate. At the far end of the single ward, with piles of spare bedding stacked to warm, a fire burned in a large grate, providing the calming sight of gentle flame, and heat for both patients and healing balms.
The Unknown truly felt for Will. He knew only too well the terror of the soul being snagged by the claws of demons. Dead or alive, it made no difference. The soul belonged in the body until it chose to travel beyond mortal confines.
Will’s soul was not gone but the demons had most certainly touched it. And the ice chill of a demon’s claw on the core of his being was the reason Will lay so deep in shock. It was a miracle his brain could tell his lungs to breathe. The Unknown was fairly sure the little man would die and, as the healer mage finished her attempted contact with Will’s buried consciousness, the blank look on her face told its own story.
‘Well?’ asked The Unknown. The mage turned to him, moving aside to let two of the town’s women assigned to the infirmary make Will comfortable. She was a tall woman, graceful, with long fingers and bobbed grey hair, her face wrinkled by age.
‘I have never experienced someone so far down. Even though he is breathing, I find it hard to believe his soul still resides in his body. I cannot even hear his mind, let alone contact it. His brain is keeping him alive but how long that continues is anybody’s guess though it will not be long.’ She glanced at Thraun as she had done many times already.
‘Don’t worry about him. I think he understands you’re trying to help and he is certainly aware that Will is gravely ill. So how long?’ The Unknown saw Hirad and the Julatsan General enter the infirmary, making a bee-line for him.
‘Before he wakes or before he dies?’
‘I think we both know it’s unlikely to be the former,’ said The Unknown. The mage smiled sadly and nodded.
‘Well, put it this way, if he doesn’t begin to recover in a day, I’ll be moving him to the rest-house to die - we’ll need the bed here and, after that time, I don’t think he’ll know how to come back.’
The Unknown crouched by the wolf, who stared mournfully at him. ‘I don’t know if you understand me, Thraun, but there’s going to be a battle. To help Will, fight with us. We need you and Will needs time.’
Thraun didn’t blink but met The Unknown’s eyes squarely for a time before moving past him. He licked Will’s face, then lay on the ground at the head of his bed. The Unknown pushed himself to his feet, noting the cuts in his arms steadily fading under the continued influence of Erienne and Ilkar’s CareHeal.
‘Well, it was worth a try,’ he said, approaching Hirad, whose wounds had received the same treatment, and General Kard. ‘About this siege then, gentlemen?’ he ventured. They nodded. ‘Over a mug of coffee, I think.’ He indicated the rest area at the western end of the infirmary. The fire burned brightly and several small pots hung over its flames. Once ensconced, The Unknown offered a hand to Kard, who shook it.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. I’m The Unknown Warrior.’
Kard smiled. ‘I know. I’m Kard, General of the Julatsan forces.’
‘This had better be brief,’ said The Unknown.
‘Very well,’ said Kard. ‘Communion is underway to alert anyone up to a day away that we need assistance; one of your mages, Ilkar, gave me the name of one mage we know we can contact.’
‘Pheone,’ said The Unknown.
‘Yes. Following that, we await the inevitable alarm from the watch-tower before mounting our attack.’
‘Why would you wait?’ asked Hirad.
‘Because every moment we can buy brings help that much closer. And without help we will surely lose this fight.’
‘But it’s still an error to wait for them,’ said The Unknown. ‘It leaves your people on edge and removes the total surprise that is so vital to you. Attack when you are ready. Obliterate the tower before they have a chance to sound their alarms and get your men out into the streets right behind the first spell assault, assuming that’s what you were intending to do.’
‘But—’ began Kard.
‘Your ideas are sound, General, and the Dordovans do need to be given the maximum time to arrive, but think of the effect on the Wesmen. Before they even know the Shroud is gone, they are being killed where they sleep and around their camp fires. And before they can mount a meaningful resistance, we are back inside
the walls waiting for them. And then what?’ The Unknown invited Kard to speak.
The General nodded. ‘I can see the sense in it. Then we keep them back as long as possible with spells, stop them mounting a serious assault.’
‘Exactly, but make sure you hit them hard to begin with. Make them scared to approach,’ said The Unknown. ‘Keep your mages moving after first strike. Don’t let the Wesmen know where the magic is coming from next.’
‘All right,’ said Kard, looking a little hurt. ‘But we’ll have to clear the wall run.’
‘That’s fine because you can have warriors standing down all around the walls until they’re called. Though you might want to keep archers behind the battlements,’ said Hirad. ‘Remember, if the flash attack into the streets is a success, the Wesmen will already be disorganised and demoralised. It’ll take them several hours to organise for siege and attack. If you can damage them as they approach the walls, you can delay them still further. But you have to use the mages right.’
The Unknown smiled and reached out a hand to grip Kard’s upper arm briefly. ‘General, we’re not questioning your skill or authority, just adding our experience. How many sieges have you been involved in?’
‘This is my first,’ admitted Kard, his face cracking and his eyes lighting up. He chuckled.
‘Then you have done a phenomenal job so far,’ said The Unknown. ‘We’ve spent a good part of our ten years fighting within or without castle walls.’
‘In that case, I am glad of your advice,’ said Kard.
‘It will help us all to live longer,’ said Hirad.
‘There’s one more thing.’ Kard drained his coffee. ‘Senedai, the Wesmen Lord, has Julatsan prisoners, probably thousands of them. He promised to kill them should we double-cross him, which is exactly what we are planning to do.’
‘You don’t think he’ll be too busy with the trouble you cause to worry about them?’ asked Hirad.
‘That’s what I told the Council but frankly I doubt it,’ replied Kard. ‘He’s got at least fifteen thousand warriors out there. I feel sure he can spare some to slaughter a potential problem.’
‘Any mages among the prisoners?’ The Unknown was frowning.
‘I’m sure there are but they’ll be keeping very quiet,’ said Kard. ‘Senedai would have killed them otherwise. He’s ruthless as he’s proved by all the sacrifices in the Shroud.’
‘Is any Communion directed at them? Where will they be being held?’ The Unknown asked, seeing Hirad framing the same questions and coming to the same conclusion.
‘In the south of the city, probably at the grain store. It’s the only building big enough for the number of people I think Senedai’s probably captured; and it’s a secure structure, for obvious reasons. As for Communion, we can’t risk it. Not just because we don’t know if any mages are alive there but because we don’t want the prisoners or the Wesmen getting a sniff of our plans before we attack.’
The Unknown exchanged a brief glance with Hirad, who raised his eyebrows and nodded.
‘We’ll free them,’ said the big man. ‘But it’ll require a slight change to your plans.’
‘How?’ asked Kard.
‘Just leave it to The Raven,’ said Hirad. ‘We know what we’re doing.’
Kard nodded. ‘It’s your party if you want it.’
The Communion had proved promising. Pheone, the mage already contacted by The Raven, was with a group of two hundred Julatsans including eleven other mages. They were picking their way towards where they suspected the Dordovans were camped and could strike at the Wesmen encircling the city in a day.
The Dordovans too had been found. Two and a half thousand foot, five hundred cavalry and fifty mages, who had been on the point of returning to Dordover because of the strength of the Wesmen massing at Understone, had been given the order to march instead to Julatsa.
Three other disparate groups of soldiers, city folk and a handful of mages, perhaps one hundred and fifty in all, had been found and advised of the siege plans. Whether they joined the effort or not depended largely on their intercepting the Dordovan force.
That left the Julatsans plus The Raven with at least one day to hold off the might of the Wesmen, who outnumbered them so comprehensively. Kard believed they could do it. It was down to troop morale, effective use of mages and, critically for the survival of the spirit within the College, The Raven liberating the prisoners assumed to be in the grain store.
The College had enjoyed its first run of good fortune since the fall of Julatsa. The news of the mysterious but very welcome arrival of The Raven had spread like bushfire through the College, bringing smiles to faces and the quoting of good omens. The Raven were also credited with the blindness that appeared to have afflicted the Wesmen in the watch-tower who, an hour after the Shroud’s dispersal, had still not realised the vulnerability of those they watched. For them, it would soon be too late.
A group of six mages walked from the base of the Tower. Dawn was coming though it was still full dark. The courtyard was quiet but for the cloth-muffled sounds of pans clashing in the kitchens, of cook-fires being gently stoked, and of the muted protestations of the freshly greased well-chain as water was hauled from the underground course. In so many ways it was, as Kard demanded, an entirely ordinary yet artificially governed preamble to dawn.
But from behind every door, a Captain or Lieutenant watched, their men primed and ready to race for their designated gate. The spotter mages prepared ShadowWings and The Raven, already hidden in shadow by the South Gate, waited. Hirad and The Unknown Warrior hefted weapons, Ilkar and Erienne prepared HardShield and HotRain respectively and Denser, ShadowWings of his own. He would navigate. It was the best way to avoid unwanted confrontation.
The six mages walked casually across the courtyard, their bodies relaxed but their minds taut with spell preparation. For all the steel cladding on the lower levels of the Wesmen’s tower, the watch-platform was still open, though netted against arrows. There was no warning. One moment they were walking, the next they stopped and a dozen FlameOrbs were flashing across the sky, the extra preparation time adding speed and accuracy to the casting.
The sudden light flared harshly across the courtyard as it moved swiftly towards the helpless Wesmen guards. Shadow followed orange light in hypnotic sequence and the briefest of hushes fell on the College before the Orbs struck home.
The Julatsan night lit up as orange fire deluged the platform, igniting wood and flesh and consuming both with equal voracity. Flames leapt upwards, boiling off the roof of the tower, while on the platform itself the burning Wesmen shrieked and thrashed in their agony, one plunging through the torn netting to fall, trailing smoke and flame as he went. And as the single desperate toll of an alarm bell rang mournfully out into the night, joined by the screams of the dying, the College courtyard sprang to life.
Kard and his Captains yelled orders, soldiers and men raced to the gates which were hauled open and, first into the streets of Julatsa, The Raven, with Denser, eyes magically augmented, flying above and ahead of the runners. Behind them came a force of six hundred soldiers and city men at arms plus thirty defensive mages. North would go around four hundred swordsmen plus twenty mages, leaving the College temporarily undefended by steel but not by magic.
During the days of the DemonShroud, Senedai had stood down the force that had originally completely encircled the College walls, presumably dispersing them through the far more luxurious surroundings of his captured buildings. However, a circle of guard-points still closed all routes from the cobbled ring that ran around the outside of the College walls where they intersected the first city buildings and it was here that the first strike would be made.
Hirad led The Raven across the cobbled ring, towards the main street that led to the industrial quarter. Wesmen guards in front of them yelled warnings and drew weapons, cries were taken up in a dozen places but the tide of Julatsans was about to sweep away the first flimsy line of defence.
&
nbsp; ‘Raven!’ roared Hirad. ‘Raven with me!’ He sprinted forward, The Unknown just to his left, Ilkar immediately behind them.
‘Shield up,’ said the elf. ‘Hold your casting, Erienne.’
‘Holding.’
Four Wesmen stood in their way, their expressions ranging from uncertainty to incomprehension at the force coming at them. Hirad ran in, sweeping his sword through, chest-high. His target leapt backwards, hanging out his axe in a feeble attempt at a block that The Raven man knocked aside, butting the man in the face and smashing his nose. The Unknown went one better, his sword breaking the weapon of his victim on its way to lodge deep in the Wesman’s shoulder. Hirad could hear the bones splintering.
With one man clutching at his face, Hirad sliced his sword up and right, taking the next man across the stomach as he raised his axe to strike, and finishing him with a stab to the heart. He reversed his blade and chopped it across the neck of the man he’d head-butted while The Unknown lashed a haymaking punch into the midriff of the fourth before stabbing him in the throat.
Denser landed behind them. ‘Your first left is an alleyway. Take it and then the first right. It’s quiet there for now but the Wesmen are waking. We need to hurry. Erienne are you all right?’ She nodded and pointed to her head where she held the mana shape for HotRain. Denser took off again and The Raven ran on, leaving the Julatsans to clear their path back.
Hirad grabbed a branch from a fire and took off down the narrow alleyway, the flickering cast by the makeshift torch just enough to ward off the worst of the shadows. Behind them he could hear the shouts of waking Wesmen, the sounding of alarms and the clashing of steel as Julatsan warriors joined battle with those who had taken their city. Detonations sounded, muffled by the blank walls of the alleyway that led them away from the main street, the light of FlameOrbs and the muted glitter of HotRain casting brief luminescence in the sky.
The Raven Collection Page 86