‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘You don’t have to keep it burning inside you.’ The Unknown moved her back so he could look into her eyes. ‘Let us take some of the weight.’
She nodded, but in her gratitude was the lonely realisation that they couldn’t take any of the burden of the One.
‘Now I think you should sleep, if that headache will let you. Your stamina reserves are low, aren’t they?’
‘It’ll be a problem before long,’ she admitted.
She kissed his cheek and stood up, brushing herself down. Above them, the rain was beginning to fall again. She barely noticed.
‘Erienne?’
‘Yes?’
‘You’ll have to let them in, you know. The One isn’t going to remain dormant. Only the Al-Drechar can help you with it. Talk to Denser again, all right?’
It was like he saw straight into her mind, finding in there the thing that worried her the most. She gave a tired smile. ‘I’ll think about it.’
‘That’s all I ask.’
‘Good night, Unknown.’
‘Sleep well.’
The rain fell for hours until just before dawn but by the time The Raven had eaten a light meal of wild mushrooms and hard bread, they were as dry as the humid conditions would ever allow. Hirad walked at the head of the line on the third morning with The Unknown, just behind Rebraal and Ilkar. The brothers had clearly had another disagreement. The set of both their bodies spoke volumes and Rebraal repeatedly failed to hold branches aside for Ilkar as they moved through an area of forest far more dense than anything they’d encountered so far.
In the trees above them, monkeys called and hooted and birds sang, the songs of a myriad throats mixing to a magical crescendo.
‘No one’s going to hear us coming, at least,’ said Hirad.
‘That’s why elves don’t rely on their ears here,’ said Ilkar, who was just ahead at the time. ‘If there are elves nearby, chances are they know about us already.’
‘And what does Rebraal think?’ asked The Unknown.
‘He’s suddenly decided that we shouldn’t have come and that he and the Al-Arynaar are able to handle everything perfectly well on their own.’
‘That’s not what I asked.’
Ilkar shrugged but he didn’t look round. They’d all learned that looking at who you were talking to was the easiest way of sustaining a graze or falling over a root.
‘So?’ prompted Hirad.
‘So, he says the forest has a bad taste to it, that the harmony is damaged and he can’t feel what he should. He’s not sure what we’ll find at the temple and he doesn’t know if more Al-Arynaar are close,’ said Ilkar.
‘And doesn’t he think some of his people might not have retaken the temple already?’ asked Hirad.
‘Apparently the forest wouldn’t feel this way if they had,’ said Ilkar.
‘He’s scared, isn’t he?’ said The Unknown.
Ilkar said nothing but Hirad saw his head nod.
‘Then give him some room,’ said the big warrior. ‘This is his land far more than it is yours. We need him on our side as far as possible.’
Ilkar tensed across the shoulders. ‘Thanks for your input, Unknown, but I think I understand my own brother.’
‘You are not behaving as if you do.’
The Julatsan didn’t respond and The Raven walked on in silence. The large insect bites on the back of Hirad’s knees itched and chafed and the constant sweat down his arms wasn’t helping the healing of the blisters he still had from his first day rowing. Not enough to worry him if it came to a fight but uncomfortable nonetheless.
After something like two hours of walking, Rebraal brought them to a sudden halt and beckoned them to group around him.
‘Close,’ he said, pointing forwards. ‘Quiet now.’
‘Talkative soul, isn’t he?’ said Hirad.
‘Just a little rusty,’ responded Ilkar. ‘He hasn’t had to speak Balaian for three times longer than you’ve been alive.’
Rebraal scowled and put a finger to his lips. ‘Quiet,’ he hissed. ‘You must um . . . I lead.’ He looked to Ilkar and spoke quickly in elvish.
‘He wants you to follow his lead. He says he’ll direct us where we need to go.’
‘Tell him if there’s a combat situation, we’ll assess and do things how we think they should be done,’ said Hirad. ‘You know the way it is.’
Ilkar smiled. ‘Anything to antagonise.’
Rebraal hadn’t caught the conversation and shook his head when Ilkar translated. Another sharp exchange ensued, ending when Rebraal threw his arms up, stabbed a finger at Ilkar, spoke what sounded like a threat and turned his back on them.
‘So he’s in full agreement then?’ said Hirad.
‘I’ve just tried to explain that we’ll listen to him, but when it comes to it we’ll decide on any attack or defence tactics. All I would ask is that you don’t do anything precipitate. He will be able to perceive threat far better than us and the last thing we need is to start fighting friends. All right?’
Hirad nodded and turned to The Raven. ‘Fair enough. But let’s assume we need a line before we set off. That means mages to the rear of the group now. Everyone knows their places. Ren, keep your bow handy and stay behind the sword line. We can protect you there.’
Swords drawn, The Raven moved off behind the sullen Rebraal and it was immediately evident that the elf had a new purpose about him. They thought he’d been moving quickly before but now he glided through the forest ahead, his feet sure, his passage obviously quiet even given the din of life surrounding them.
Hirad tried as best he could to mimic his movements, keeping low, head flicking from ground to directly ahead continuously. He felt a thrill course through him as they advanced. He had no idea exactly what lay twenty yards ahead, let alone at the temple, but his excitement at the thought of action drove him on. He felt himself detach from the world outside The Raven and his senses took on the clarity a warrior needed to survive the fight.
He could smell the sharpness of the plant life around him, the sweetness of fruit. He could hear their footsteps and their breathing and he could see a path where none had been before, obscured as it had been by his untrained eyes. But he never took his gaze from Rebraal for more than a few heartbeats. The Al-Arynaar was the barometer for what lay immediately ahead. He took them across a crudely hacked path and back into the forest, turned to his right, entered a small clearing and stopped dead. Behind him, Hirad held up a hand and The Raven were still.
Rebraal turned briefly, took them all in, one of his eyebrows perhaps edging up very slightly. Hirad looked down at his feet. He was standing on a human bone.
‘I can hear nothing,’ Rebraal whispered. ‘Follow. Slow.’
He set off again, Hirad and The Unknown in his footprints, Aeb, Darrick and Thraun close by and just in front of Ren and the mages. The slightest murmuring was heard as mana shapes were formed. Slowly, slowly, the vegetation began to thin and the building that loomed out of the forest was enough to take the breath away.
A great green-gold dome rose, partly covered in liana, lichens and mosses. It was a huge structure that should have been completely at odds with its surroundings yet somehow fitted them perfectly. Harmony, supposed Hirad.
That there was much wrong, though, was evident in Rebraal’s reaction to the place he apparently knew so well. He waved them hurriedly to a stop, crouched low to look either side of some obstruction, ducking his head this way and that, and finally stood and strode away.
‘Rebraal!’ called Ilkar, and broke position.
‘Get back in line, Ilkar,’ ordered The Unknown.
Ilkar complied immediately but Ren, right behind him, did not listen.
‘Ren!’ barked The Unknown, but she had gone on after Ilkar’s brother.
‘Raven, form up,’ said Hirad. ‘Let’s get after that idiot.’
All pretence at silence was gone. Ahead of them, Rebraal was calling to someo
ne, his elvish urgent and strained. The Raven came on, slicing away vegetation, revealing more and more of the temple as they advanced, Ren in front, calling Rebraal’s name, her bow slack in her hands.
‘HardShield up,’ said Erienne.
‘SpellShield up,’ said Ilkar.
Secure, Hirad began a trot, The Unknown to his left and just ahead of him, Darrick to his right. Aeb and Thraun ran the other side of the big man. They burst into the stone apron clearing in front of the temple a few paces behind Ren, who had stuttered to a stop.
‘Get behind me now!’ roared Hirad.
The elf started and began to back off, head switching to either side. Rebraal was in the centre of the apron, walking slowly towards the temple doorway which was closed by rough wooden planking. From both sides of the apron and from behind the temple, elves were emerging.
Hirad stopped The Raven.
‘Check left,’ he said.
‘Twenty targets,’ said Aeb instantly. ‘More probably in shadow.’
‘Check right,’ said the barbarian.
‘Similar,’ said Darrick. ‘Bows and swords.’
‘Be calm,’ said Ilkar, voice quiet with concentration on his spell. ‘They’re Al-Arynaar.’
‘I’m taking no chances,’ said Hirad. ‘Keep focussed, Raven. Move slowly. Keep them in front of us if you can.’ Ren took her place in the line under Hirad’s glare. ‘Never again or you walk.’
‘But—’
‘Later.’ Hirad cut across her protest and returned his attention to the situation in front of them.
The Al-Arynaar - there were over thirty of them on the apron now - were clearly confused by what they saw. Their anger at the strangers in their midst was obvious enough but it was tempered by the sight of Rebraal. Hirad shuddered at the thought of what would have happened had he not been there. He’d had no inkling the elves were there until they appeared from the shadows. All that bothered him now was that they might decide Rebraal was an escaped captive. Shields or not, he didn’t fancy taking on this lot.
‘Rebraal?’ he called.
The elf held up a hand. ‘Quiet.’ But he looked round and the suggestion of a smile crossed his face. His next words were in elvish and Hirad heard Ilkar’s name mentioned.
‘Shield down,’ said Ilkar, and moved out from the line, stopping in front of Hirad. ‘Keep your guard up but don’t be aggressive. There’s no magic here but I’d keep the HardShield up if I were you. Some of them look a little twitchy.’
‘Be careful,’ said Hirad. ‘You’re vulnerable.’
‘I’ll be standing next to my brother,’ said Ilkar, but he didn’t appear convinced himself.
‘Yes, and not us.’
Ilkar nodded and walked onto the apron, Al-Arynaar eyes following him all the way. All Hirad could do was watch. Rebraal spoke quickly to an Al-Arynaar who had come forward to embrace him. He indicated Ilkar, gestured at The Raven and at the temple. Hirad saw him nodding, then start violently before running to the temple door, Ilkar right behind him.
The Raven took an automatic pace forward. The elves moved across the apron, blocking their route to the temple. Hirad held up a hand to calm them. He could see the hate dripping from some of their faces, the desire to kill clear in every gaze, the grip on every weapon and the intent in every stance. Perhaps fifty stood before them now. Too many.
From within the temple Hirad heard an anguished cry. Shouting echoed out into the forest. The rough doors were pulled aside and Rebraal came storming out, Ilkar pacing beside him, voice raised, talking into his ear. But Rebraal wasn’t hearing whatever it was Ilkar was saying.
‘Trouble,’ said Ren.
‘What’s he saying?’ asked Hirad, not turning.
‘Something’s been damaged in there. The statue. Rebraal’s blaming every stranger. That includes you.’
The tension spiralled. The Al-Arynaar bunched and moved forward as Rebraal and Ilkar passed them. Arrows were nocked, belt pouches unclasped and swords raised.
‘Ready, Raven,’ said Hirad. ‘Don’t strike first. Block away. Denser, you got something that doesn’t involve fire?’
‘Plenty,’ said the Xeteskian. ‘I’m ready.’
Rebraal’s face betrayed the blindness in his mind. He was pushing Ilkar away but the Julatsan kept on coming back, casting very anxious glances at The Raven. A handful of paces in front of them, with the Al-Arynaar bearing down, Ilkar got between Rebraal and his targets, shoved his brother back and snapped out a stream of elvish that stopped him a moment.
Hirad knew enough to realise it was a challenge.
‘Raven,’ he began.
‘Stay there,’ said Ilkar. ‘Trust me.’
‘Unknown?’ asked Hirad.
‘Be ready.’
The Unknown’s blade tapped on the stone in front of him, sending a chilling toll across the open space while his mind cleared for battle.
Ilkar grabbed the flaps of his own leather jerkin and pulled them apart, daring Rebraal to kill him. Hirad watched Rebraal’s eyes narrow, heard his words grate out and saw his gesture ordering Ilkar aside. Ilkar shook his head. Laid down the same challenge again. One word Hirad heard this time as clear as a bell at dawn. Raven.
The brothers stared at each other. Rebraal’s eyes didn’t flinch and didn’t blink. The forest around them faded in Hirad’s consciousness. All he could hear was the sound of The Unknown’s sword tapping on stone, all he could see were the two elves in a stand-off that would decide The Raven’s fate. He felt a drip of sweat run down his back and gripped his sword tighter, aware of his slick palm.
In front of him Ilkar was perfectly still, his nerve not faltering. He spoke again, quietly now into the relative silence. His words carried utter determination. Rebraal said nothing in response but there was a flicker across his face. He glanced briefly at The Raven, back to Ilkar and nodded once, curtly, before spinning on his heel and taking the Al-Arynaar into the temple.
Ilkar turned to The Raven, his face pale but a smile spreading across his face.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘We’re safe for now.’
‘Shield down,’ said Erienne.
The Raven surrounded Ilkar. He was shaking now and he put his face in his hands.
‘Oh Gods, it’s bad,’ he said.
‘What is?’ asked Hirad.
‘Give me a moment,’ said Ilkar.
‘What have they gone to do?’ asked Hirad, flicking his head at the departed Al-Arynaar.
‘Pray,’ said Ilkar. ‘And if you had any sense, you’d be doing the same.’
Chapter 29
The bandages boiled once again in the mugs above a small fire consisting mainly of embers. Smoke spiralled into the bright dawn sky, cloud clearing after the latest burst of rain. Yron had made Ben-Foran as comfortable as he could in a cut-in above the sloping banks of the River Shorth late the night before, after walking into the evening only because Ben had dredged energy from somewhere and didn’t want to stop.
Yron had boiled the blood-soaked bandages that night and replaced them, and now he was repeating the procedure he still refused to believe was futile. But Ben was dying. The fact would have been obvious to a blind man. His night had been full of delusions. He’d cried out and Yron had forgone any rest to be at his side, to soothe his fears. Infection was setting in quickly despite Yron’s best efforts and his knowledge of rainforest herbs.
He’d been without food too. They both had, existing only by chewing on the scraped bark and leaves of guarana, which provided basic energy. It had to be enough. They didn’t have the time or the energy to hunt, or forage for anything other than medicinal plants.
And Yron himself was beginning to succumb. His bites from the piranha weren’t healing and the insects had done their work too. He thought he might make it back to the ship but only if he was unencumbered. Trouble was, there was no way he was leaving Ben.
While the bandages bubbled, he fed Ben guarana and made him drink menispere to fight the fever. He laid boiled
leaves of the same plant on his horrible leg wounds, apologising for the thousandth time as the pain ravaged his lieutenant. But as usual Ben didn’t cry out or complain. Indeed he even managed a smile.
Throughout the previous day, as they’d walked with agonising slowness along the banks of the river, Yron’s admiration for the young man had grown. His spirit was amazing. Unquenchable. He remained as alert as he could. He still talked, still wanted to learn. Even for a determined soldier like Yron, it was truly inspirational. Ben would be a great leader of men. Would have been.
‘You respect them, don’t you?’ asked Ben suddenly, his words coming through short breaths.
‘The elves?’
‘The ones chasing us.’
‘Oh yes,’ said Yron. ‘Their skill is extraordinary.’
‘They will catch us, won’t they?’
‘Yes,’ said Yron. ‘Unless our luck holds, that is. Hard to think we’ve been lucky so far, but we have. They are utterly ruthless and we have committed a crime that carries the death penalty in their eyes. If they do catch up with us, there’ll be no mercy shown.’
‘So why do you think they haven’t caught us yet?’ asked Ben.
‘Because they aren’t absolutely certain where we’re going. When they know, they’ll move.’ Yron stirred the bandages and began hooking them out. ‘And that’s the game for us and for anyone else still alive out there if they did but know it. Keep the TaiGethen guessing, keep alive. Simple.’
But it wasn’t. Soon, if not already, the TaiGethen would know their exact destination and the ClawBound would confirm it.
‘You ready to go?’ he asked.
Ben laughed, coughing at the same time. ‘Never better, sir. Get the bandages on and let’s run.’
‘Whatever you say, son.’
Auum completed the prayers and stood, his Tai around him. They turned to the small fire and unwrapped the fish that had been cooking in its embers. Swallowing the succulent flesh, Auum’s mood darkened. There were mages out there with the running strangers and though ClawBound and a full Tai had attacked a camp of four, they had not found the mage and the writings were still with him. A scouring of the camp had revealed nothing.
The Raven Collection Page 189