The Raven Collection

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The Raven Collection Page 137

by James Barclay


  ‘Harm her in any way and you will reach nowhere but the bottom of the Southern Ocean.’

  ‘Don’t presume to threaten me, elf. You are beaten.’ Selik didn’t stop moving.

  ‘It’s not a threat. Without us, you can’t navigate your way and you know it. And if Erienne is harmed, we will die before taking you a league further. That is a promise.’

  Now Selik stopped, thrusting Erienne towards a Black Wing. ‘Take her below. Her own cabin if it’s down there. Now you, elf. With you, I’ll make this bargain. While that bitch is on this ship, no physical harm will come to her. But if you dare to speak to me like that again, I will bleed you in front of all your crew before feeding you to the sharks. And by my reckoning there’ll still be enough of you left to sail. Understand?’

  Erienne’s last view was of Selik pushing the Captain in the chest, a contemptuous gesture for the proud elf that set her gorge rising. As she was ushered below, she heard his voice again.

  ‘Now, ready your crew and this ship to sail on my order. When our guests arrive we will be leaving immediately. Ornouth is a long way, isn’t it, Captain, and I do so hate delay.’

  Erienne burst into tears. He knew so much but how did he know? And which College was it that would betray her? Entering her cabin to await Selik, she feared she already knew the answers.

  Chapter 22

  The Unknown sat with his face in his hands, trying not to believe what he was feeling. There was a closeness in his skull, a pressure he hadn’t felt for years. He’d known they were marching before The Raven had been caught in the forest by Darrick but he hadn’t dreamed they could make Arlen so fast. However, the Protectors should never be underestimated.

  He snapped his head up. Ilkar was watching him.

  ‘You all right, Unknown?’

  ‘They’re here,’ he replied, rising.

  ‘Who?’ asked Denser from the opposite corner of the cell, only just visible in the light of the single guttering torch. He had been quiet since his admission, and their incarceration had gone on for hours now. Night was full and it seemed to The Unknown that he’d lost the will to act. It was as if he was beaten.

  ‘The Protectors.’ The Unknown strode over to the door and hammered on it with the heel of his palm. ‘Hey. Get over here.’ He continued the hammering until a middle-aged and scowling face appeared at the grille.

  ‘Do you have to?’ It was the night-watch jailer, a man who refused to give his name but was affable enough, given his prisoners’ identity, and irritated by the intrusion of the Lysternan soldiers and mage seated just outside in the guardroom.

  ‘Yes. Get me one of the others.’

  ‘Not good enough for you, am I?’

  ‘No, it’s just not your problem. Or it shouldn’t be. So, please . . .’

  ‘Well, what is it? After all, I am in charge here.’

  The Unknown grabbed one of the bars on the grille, the jailer flinching.

  ‘There’s going to be trouble in the town. Very soon.’

  ‘Some sort of clairvoyant are you?’

  ‘Some sort,’ agreed The Unknown shortly. ‘Look, I don’t have time to debate this. Just get me one of the others.’

  ‘Not going to try anything funny are you?’ The jailer sucked his lip.

  The Unknown snapped. ‘Yes, I’m going to tell a few jokes. Gods, man, just get me a Lysternan. Now!’ Another slap on the door which echoed through the jail.

  The jailer backed off. ‘I’m only doing this because you shouldn’t be in here.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The Unknown watched him go. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Feeling better now?’ asked Ilkar.

  The Unknown turned his head, fighting down the smile that Ilkar’s expression had prompted.

  ‘This is serious. Darrick didn’t believe what I said. I think he thinks he can talk to Xetesk, take on the Protectors if he has to, or take Erienne before they get here. But the fact we’re still stuck in this stinking hole means he hasn’t persuaded Arlen to let him board the ship yet. And now the Protectors are close.’

  ‘How close?’ asked Denser.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said The Unknown. ‘But near the town. They’re in battle psyche, that’s why I could sense them. It’s loud.’

  ‘Perhaps we should let them to do their job,’ said Denser. ‘Erienne’ll be safer with them.’

  ‘And never mind Lysternan casualties?’ asked Ilkar. ‘They’re as much victims of Dordovan manipulation as we are. And that’s not to mention innocents in Arlen.’

  ‘Lystern has sided with Dordover,’ replied Denser, his voice still coming out of the shadows.

  ‘And what sort of choice do you really think they were given?’ said Ilkar.

  ‘We can’t just sit here and let Darrick blunder into them,’ said The Unknown. ‘Well, I can’t. You do what you like, Denser.’

  ‘It’ll be the best way to sort this out, I’m sure,’ muttered the Xeteskian. ‘The quickest way for me to get back to my wife.’

  The Unknown ignored him and swung back to the door ready to shout but instead finding the mage standing there. He was a young man, a great talent according to Darrick. Tall, muscular and fit, as would be expected of one of the General’s cavalrymen. Right now, he was looking more than a little scared.

  ‘Been standing there long?’ asked The Unknown.

  ‘Long enough, I think. What will the General be blundering into again?’

  ‘The Protectors,’ said The Unknown. ‘And you need to let us out right now.’

  ‘Because you’ll do what?’

  ‘Perhaps stop a slaughter.’ The Unknown watched the mage fail to take it in, and felt his temper fraying. ‘Oh, not you too. Look, the Protectors are after Erienne as well, and they aren’t going to be talked out of it by Darrick. And despite his admirable confidence and the equally admirable discipline of his cavalry, they will be massacred. Believe me.’

  ‘We are already taking steps. The General is on his way to the docks now and our Dordovan allies are also on their way.’

  ‘So he knows the Protectors’ arrival is imminent, does he?’

  The mage tried to smile. ‘No, but we’ll be fully in position by the time they arrive and ready to talk to their masters. We’ll have retaken the ship and—’ The mage stopped, biting his lip, but the slip had been made and he found himself immediately confronted by all three imprisoned Raven, The Unknown at their centre.

  ‘What do you mean, “retaken”?’ demanded Denser, his eyes full of fire once again. ‘Who has the ship at the moment?’

  ‘It’s a temporary situation,’ said the mage.

  ‘Who?’ The Unknown kicked the base of the door which shuddered ominously.

  ‘We think . . .’ The mage paused, weighing up the admission in his mind. ‘A small force of Black Wings have—’

  The Unknown silenced him with a look and waved a finger. Beside him, Ilkar swore.

  ‘I bloody knew it,’ said Denser. ‘I bloody knew it.’

  ‘Let us out. Right now,’ said The Unknown, his voice dreadfully calm, belying the growing rage he felt inside. There, all was turmoil and in his head flashed visions of a three-way fight for the Elm which could only end one way; and he did not want Erienne’s blood slicking Arlen Bay.

  ‘Those bastards, those bastards.’ Denser had walked away from the door and was pacing a tight circle. ‘Oh dear Gods, they’ve got her again.’

  The words went straight through The Unknown and his heart went out to Erienne, almost certainly in the hands of her worst nightmare for the second time.

  ‘Please, Unknown.’ Denser’s voice behind him was little more than a desperate gasp, all its earlier vitriol gone. ‘You have to get us out of here.’

  The Unknown still held the dithering mage’s gaze.

  ‘Now you listen to me very carefully. On two counts now. Darrick doesn’t know what he’s dealing with and we do. The Black Wings won’t let him just storm the ship. They’ll kill Erienne before giving her
up. Believe me, we’ve seen their handiwork before and it was Erienne’s sons that were the victims.

  ‘This is too big for him, and it’s too big for you. So let us out, give me a blade and we can prevent this getting completely out of hand.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ said the mage. ‘The General was very specific.’

  ‘Damn his bloody specifics!’ shouted The Unknown, fists pounding the timbers of the door with each word. ‘They’ll be the death of him. And you if you don’t let us go.’

  ‘I can’t,’ he said, his tone all but beseeching.

  ‘Then we’ll do it without you,’ said The Unknown. ‘This folly has gone on long enough.’

  ‘We have orders to kill you if you attempt to break out.’

  ‘Try it. Now get lost or unlock this door.’ The Unknown turned away and beckoned Denser and Ilkar to him. But his words were lost as a howl split the air, followed by a cry and the clash of swords.

  ‘Gods falling, what’s that?’ Denser said, startled from his misery.

  The Unknown smiled. ‘Be ready.’

  ‘For what?’ asked Ilkar.

  ‘Just be ready.’

  Hirad knew exactly where Arlen’s jail was situated. He’d spent a night there years ago after a brawl in an inn off Centenary Square.

  He’d won the fight but the cell bed and stench hadn’t been worth the bruising.

  It was gone midnight when he galloped into the town past a guard who’d begun to protest before seeing the wolves trailing in his wake and leaping aside, yelling to his companions to get word to Arlen.

  ‘You’re already too late,’ said Hirad to himself, his horse thundering past the Merchant Quarter on the way to the Salt Quarter. The streets were quiet; only the inebriates who’d left Centenary Square after closing were shambling around as he reined in at the jail house.

  It was a squat stone building set between warehouses and, he knew, with cells overlooking a walled courtyard that doubled as paddock and exercise area for any longer-term prisoners of the two small cells.

  There were three horses tethered outside, all pulling desperately at their reins, whinnies echoing, hooves clattering as they tried to escape the wolves suddenly coming at them.

  Hirad didn’t have time.

  ‘Thraun!’ he roared, jumping from his saddle and drawing his sword. It felt good in his hands. The wolf seemed to understand, howling to deflect the pack from their feast. They bunched around him, all eyes on the human.

  ‘Time for some fun,’ said the barbarian, striding to the door which opened as he approached. A guard appeared in the light that washed over the dirty cobblestones.

  ‘One chance,’ said Hirad. ‘I need The Raven now.’

  ‘I can’t,’ said the guard, raising his blade.

  ‘As you wish.’ Hirad swept his sword up and right as he ran forward, meeting a sturdy block in a shower of sparks. The guard fell back, a seasoned soldier by the looks.

  ‘You don’t have to die. Just give me The Raven.’ Hirad backed up half a pace. ‘We’re on the same side.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ The man lunged forwards, Hirad ready to block. But Thraun leaped, bearing the man down, his head smacking off the stone, one of the wolf’s paws thrashing at his neck.

  Hirad breathed in deep and ran inside, confronting another three in the process of gathering weapons. Outside, the guard’s screams had turned to pitiful gurgles.

  ‘One down, let’s not make it more.’ Hirad heard the pad of paws behind him as Thraun and his pack came through the door. ‘I can’t control them if you attack.’

  Another man ran round the corner.

  ‘They’re really . . .’ His words died in his throat at the scene in the guard room.

  ‘Angry?’ suggested the barbarian, switching his sword between his hands. ‘A bit like me unless you let my friends out of that cell right now.’

  ‘I—’ began the man but his gaze misted over. ‘They’re casting.’

  Hirad dropped his blade and snatched a dagger from his belt, running across to the mage and grabbing him around the neck, metal point at his throat.

  ‘I rather hoped they would,’ he said. ‘Door’s going down is my guess. Let’s not interfere, eh?’

  The dagger point drew a bead of blood. Across the room, the remaining guards stood stock still, gazes shifting from Hirad to the wolves, scared by what they were seeing but not quite believing it.

  The mage moved his hands, a minute gesture. It was enough. Hirad pressed the blade a little deeper.

  ‘Don’t. You aren’t quick enough to beat me.’

  Thraun growled deep in his throat. Hirad looked round. The pack were unsure. In front of them, three men held swords ready but made no move.

  ‘Wait, Thraun,’ said Hirad, with no idea if the big wolf understood him. If not, there’d be more blood.

  From the cells came an unmistakable voice and the sound of splintering wood. A few heartbeats later, The Unknown appeared in the guard room, registering no surprise on taking in Hirad and the pack.

  ‘Glad you stopped by,’ he said.

  Hirad nodded. ‘All right. Drop your weapons. We need them.’ He didn’t let up pressure on the mage’s neck.

  There was hesitation. The Unknown hissed in breath and stepped smartly across, hooking a fist into the chin of the nearest guard. The blow took him completely unawares, sending him crashing into the other two, his sword clattering to the floor. The Unknown stopped, grabbed the blade and held it ready.

  ‘Drop them now,’ he growled. The other blades dropped. The Unknown moved forward and the two guards, one Lysternan and the jailer, backed off. Denser and Ilkar moved into the space and took the swords.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Hirad to the mage.

  ‘Don’t be,’ he replied. ‘I know the General was uncomfortable with all this.’

  ‘Not for that, for this.’

  He spun the mage to face him, reversed the dagger and snapped the end of the hilt into the mage’s temple. The man crumpled.

  ‘Can’t have you casting, can we?’ he said, cushioning the stunned body to the ground. He turned his attention to the guards. ‘And you. I’m sorry for your friend outside but take it as a warning. Don’t follow us.’

  He took The Raven in; Denser looking at him as if seeing a ghost, Ilkar who couldn’t suppress a smile and The Unknown carefully neutral. All three shifted gaze to the wolves and back.

  ‘Yes, it’s Thraun. Later, all right? We’ve got work to do.’ He smiled. ‘Raven! Raven with me!’

  He led the run to the dockside.

  Lights were on all over Arlen when the Earl was disturbed by a frantic knocking on his door. He had posted guards at the docks following General Darrick’s rather dramatic departure but, as he had expected, had heard nothing.

  ‘Yes, yes, dammit.’ He heaved himself from his chair. His guard captain half-ran in, his face severe in the glow of the fire. ‘What is it?’

  ‘The Black Wings have stormed the Ocean Elm, the Lysternans have just ridden down a guard post and the Dordovans are riding too. Our dock’s going to be a battleground.’

  ‘Not while I’m Earl,’ said Arlen. ‘You know what to do. Block every exit into the town. Seal off the docks and get my bloody dresser out of his bed and down to the armoury.’

  ‘Already done, my Lord.’

  Arlen’s grin was mirthless. ‘Then I’ll be joining you all the sooner.’

  The guard captain ran out, his footsteps clattering on the marbled floor. Arlen walked to a window and pulled the drapes aside. He could see nothing at the dockside but the lights everywhere told him his town was awake and not just the nightly revellers in Centenary Square.

  ‘Damn this magic,’ he muttered. ‘Damn it all the way to hell.’

  Darrick rode at the head of the muted charge, already feeling guilty about the Arlen guards he’d injured or killed while riding through the northern approach to the town. The cavalry clattered across the market square, scattering drunks and late-night wal
kers back into the bars and inns where music sounded and light still burned brightly. They galloped dead south past shipping offices and the Lakehome Inn before turning hard right for the Elm’s berth.

  Every ship in the docks was ablaze with light, the Elm no exception. Darrick could see elves on the rigging and heard orders drifting on the wind. The first spots of rain were beginning to fall. It promised to be a very unpleasant night.

  He reined in at the Elm, the cavalry filling the dockside behind him.

  ‘Ocean Elm!’ he shouted. ‘I would speak with your Captain.’

  All action on the ship had ceased at the arrival of the cavalry, only for a barked order sending the elves scurrying again. A man moved to the port rail and leaned on it.

  ‘General Darrick, what a pleasant surprise.’

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded Darrick.

  ‘An ally,’ came the reply. ‘I’m afraid the ship’s Captain is rather busy at the moment but I’m actually in charge. I am Selik, Captain of the Black Wings.’

  ‘Then you are no ally,’ spat Darrick.

  ‘I think your Dordovan friends might disagree with you, General. ’

  ‘I have no Dordovan friends,’ said Darrick. ‘And neither do you.’

  ‘I beg to differ,’ said Selik, shrugging. ‘But it’s immaterial. You can ask them yourself shortly. Can I help you in any other way?’

  Darrick paused a moment, aware that every ear was listening and, like him, none believed what they were hearing. He wished he hadn’t left without the Dordovan mages. At least they could have been questioned. The scum on the deck of the Elm, though, was not going to give any straight answers.

  ‘I require you to deliver Erienne Malanvai to me immediately. I then demand that you leave this ship before there is more bloodshed. I have over two hundred cavalry and thirty mages. We will take the ship if we have to.’

  ‘And as you so accurately point out, I have Erienne Malanvai. Your next move could result in unwanted death,’ said Selik. ‘I suggest you don’t make it.’

  ‘You won’t kill her,’ said Darrick. ‘She’s your only card.’

 

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