‘Relax,’ said Denser. ‘It’ll pass. Probably something you ate last night.’ But Denser’s heart was quailing. He could sense the others standing around them, no one able to utter a word.
Ilkar took them all in and managed a sad smile. ‘No, it won’t, Denser. You know that. We all do.’
Denser sat back on his haunches, feeling true helplessness sweep over him as it must be sweeping over them all. He could hear Ren begin to cry and saw her rush to Ilkar’s other side and cradle his head against her chest. He looked around at them. The Raven. Strong people. But this was surely beyond any of their capacities.
Hirad was staring at Ilkar. Denser could see the barbarian’s chest moving with his measured breathing and saw the refusal to believe in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was husky, barely in control.
‘Aeb, Ilkar will ride with you. There’s been a change of plan.’
Chapter 46
The Raven followed Hirad because they trusted him, because they would not let him do what he planned alone and because, if by some miracle they were to save Ilkar, there really was no other choice.
They reined in briefly by the TaiGethen. Auum looked up from the trail, took in Aeb holding Ilkar before him in the saddle, and for the first time Hirad saw a gentle emotion in his eyes. He nodded to Hirad in sympathy and looked questioningly at Rebraal.
‘Tell him this,’ said Hirad. ‘Tell him that we don’t have time for him to follow a trail. Tell him we have to know right now if those bastards have taken Yron and where. Tell him he’s welcome to come with us if he can keep up but our friend is dying and it’s become personal now.’
And soon they were all galloping west. The TaiGethen’s natural sense of balance just about made up for their lack of skill in the saddle but still none of them was able to hold the reins alone and all clutched saddle pommels as their horses sped along beneath them.
Hirad spared them a glance, glad that they were with him. His head was full of rage and a sense of injustice he hadn’t felt since Sirendor Larn had died under an assassin’s poisoned knife in the time before Denser cast Dawnthief.
He was furious at the Black Wings for stopping and killing the TaiGethen. He was furious at Yron for stealing the thumb and condemning so many elves, and maybe Ilkar, to death. But mostly he was furious with Xetesk for what it had so casually brought about. Revenge for that would come later. Right now he cared about one thing only.
They tore towards the Black Wing camp, Hirad not knowing what he’d do when they got there but sure he’d think of something. With people coming and going from the camp on foot and horseback, and with the slackness inherent in a non-military organisation, The Raven rode right up to its edge before being so much as challenged.
Arriving at the mass of tents, weapon stands, wagons and fires, The Raven reined in. Three men walked towards them calling others as they came. Hirad slid from his horse and strode towards the three, seeing them falter as they recognised him and those behind.
‘Aeb, stay with Ilkar,’ he heard The Unknown saying. ‘Denser, we need a HardShield. Erienne, ForceCone - something to hurt them, not kill them. Remember who most of these people are. Form up, Raven. Let’s keep close.’
Hirad knew he’d be protected so he carried on, not even bothering to draw his sword. He focussed on the guard in the centre. He was no soldier. A trader by the look of him. Soft hands. He had no stomach for trouble. The barbarian grabbed him under the chin.
‘Where’s Selik?’ he demanded.
Another of the men grabbed at his arm. Hirad turned his head.
‘Take your hand away or lose it.’
‘HardShield up,’ he heard Denser say.
The Raven closed in around him and the hand on his arm was gone, gripped and crushed by The Unknown.
‘You heard him. Now get back.’
The man whimpered in pain. Hirad turned back to his charge, seeing people running in from all sides.
‘Speak. Selik. Where is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ stammered the former trader. ‘Not here.’
‘Gods burning.’ Hirad thrust the man away from him. ‘Get me a Black Wing.’ He raised his voice. ‘Any of you got the tattoo? Show yourself.’
By now quite a crowd had gathered. Not too close but there were hundreds of them. Hirad knew they were on dangerous ground but guessed none of them would want to make the first move. Someone shouldered his way through the crowd, a confident man with a bushy beard and grey-flecked hair. He walked into the space between the crowd and The Raven, taking them in and looking behind to where Aeb sat with Ilkar.
‘I am Edman,’ he said. ‘Your mages can consider themselves under arrest as can the monstrosity on the horse there. The rest of you are complicit in supporting magic. I suggest you lower your weapons.’
Hirad waited for him to get to the point of no return before pacing out to meet him. But instead of facing him, he stepped in, grabbed Edman’s lapel and swept his feet from under him, landing on top of him in the dirt. All around there was a concerted move forward but The Raven were in front of him in moments, the TaiGethen ready with bows to the sides.
‘You’ve got about a heartbeat to live,’ said Hirad. ‘Some of your men took a Xeteskian soldier to the east of here. Got into trouble with some rather handy elves like the ones standing with us. Know anything about that?’
Edman struggled uselessly beneath him. Hirad fetched out a dagger and held it to his throat.
‘I’m not going to ask you again,’ said Hirad.
‘You’re way too late,’ said Edman, forcing a smile onto his lips.
‘They took him to Understone. He’ll be dead by now. The cleansing is coming, Raven man, and you will be washed away like all the rest.’
‘Not by you though,’ said Hirad. He snapped the dagger into Edman’s throat, holding the thrashing soldier there while his blood pumped into the soil.
‘You shouldn’t have done that, Hirad,’ said The Unknown.
‘Just wait till we get to Understone,’ he said.
He stood and picked up Edman by the front of his armour, dragging him through The Raven line and dumping his body in front of the swelling crowd, which fell silent.
‘Anyone tries to stop us leaving, it’s the same for them,’ he said. ‘Gods, what are you doing here? You’re sensible people with your heads turned. You’re farmers, bakers, merchants. Husbands and fathers. Why don’t you just go home?’
‘Because we don’t have homes,’ said one. ‘Magic took them away.’
‘So build them again,’ said Hirad. ‘Why are you wasting your time here?’
He swung round and faced The Raven. An arrow whipped in, bouncing from the Shield. The answering shaft from Auum took the archer through the chest. There was a murmur in the crowd.
‘I’m disappointed,’ said Hirad, turning to face them once again, his voice loud enough to carry over their heads. ‘We have no fight with you, just your Black Wing friends. You all know you could overwhelm us if you wanted to but how many of you are going to die first, eh?’ He pointed at people in the crowd. ‘It’ll certainly be you. And you.’ He shrugged and tapped his head. ‘Just think about it. And think of the hundreds waiting for you on the walls of Xetesk.’
Slowly The Raven backed away to their horses, Denser keeping the Shield up, the TaiGethen and Ren with their bows trained on the crowd. Hirad had been right. None of them had been in a hurry to die. But as he spurred his horse away towards Understone, he wondered how many of them would waste their lives at the walls of Xetesk, helpless under a barrage of magic.
They rode until exhaustion and The Unknown forced them to stop and rest. Ilkar had recovered during the ride, and although weak was no longer in any pain and took food with them around their fire. Denser had set alarm wards around the campsite and Aeb had chosen to patrol, declining both food and rest.
Hirad couldn’t take his eyes off Ilkar. He was tired to the bone but could barely sit still and his mind was buzzing. Sleep would be a long t
ime coming. They would all be feeling the same.
‘How’re you feeling, Ilks?’ asked Hirad.
‘Since you last asked me just now, nothing has changed. I feel all right. I ache and I’m dying, but apart from that no problem.’
Ren pulled him closer and he rested his head on her shoulder.
‘You might be dying but you won’t if we get the thumb back to the temple,’ said Hirad. ‘Right?’
‘Hirad, even if we had the thumb now, it’s eight days to Blackthorne, another seven across the ocean and another three upriver. As far as we know, this thing runs its course in as little as four days.’ Ilkar’s eyes were glistening in the firelight. ‘You work it out.’
‘Let me worry about that. You just fight it. Don’t give in.’
Hirad felt an arm around his shoulders. It was Erienne. She squeezed and he felt better for it.
‘My dear old friend, there are some things even you can’t sort out,’ said Ilkar.
‘But this isn’t one of them,’ said Hirad. ‘If you don’t stop believing, we can save you.’
‘Hirad—’
‘I don’t want to hear it. You aren’t dying on me and that’s final.’
He was aware his hands were shaking. Erienne kissed his cheek.
‘Keep on telling him,’ she whispered into his ear.
He nodded.
‘So,’ said The Unknown. ‘Before we all turn in, what’s your plan for Understone? Would I be wrong in thinking it included a good deal of riding through the town laying about us with swords and spells until we find what we’re looking for?’
Hirad couldn’t stop the chuckle though the Gods knew he didn’t feel like laughing. ‘You forgot the bit about where I cut down Selik, but apart from that you’re not far from the mark. You have something better in mind?’
‘Well, actually, I do,’ said Darrick. ‘I know plenty about Understone, and with one small alteration and a slight detour, your plan might just work.’
Darrick sketched out his idea quickly and accurately. Later, as Hirad felt sleep steal his thoughts from him, he felt they might just pull it off. They had no idea how many there were in Understone or where exactly they’d be but they didn’t have to. After all, they weren’t rescuing anybody, just one object. And eventually they’d find it, no matter how many were killed in the process.
Hirad turned over, his saddle a pillow for his head, the ground soft beneath him and his cloak covering him against the night’s cool. Only Ilkar’s coughs and his occasional gasp of pain kept him from easy rest.
Auum and his Tai sat by the fire long after The Raven had taken to their rest. They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of sleep and those of the night around them. The Protector, Aeb, was ill at ease as he walked the perimeter, sometimes stopping for an extended period in one place, his body quite still but his lips moving soundlessly. The ClawBound pair padded in some time after midnight, the elf sitting with his back to a tree stump, the panther curling up at his feet.
‘The Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen should stay,’ said Auum. ‘We can return the fragment and the Raven mage will facilitate the binding. We still have sacred texts that must be reclaimed.’
Duele raised his eyebrows. ‘Confident in their ability, are you?’ he said, scepticism in his voice.
‘They are certainly . . . determined,’ conceded Auum. ‘And they care, that much became apparent today.’
Evunn nodded. ‘They move fast and are direct. We would have been a long way further back down the trail tonight.’
‘I am confident enough that we can succeed on our own with them. Moving the rest of the elves will bring trouble. Ilkar was right. We should stop the withdrawal.’ He turned to the ClawBound elf. ‘You are in contact range?’
A nod.
‘The elves must fight on. I have asked for this. I’d rather the Sorrow took them while they fought than uselessly on board ship. We will recapture the thumb. Will you relay these messages?’
Another nod.
‘Yniss will see us safe. He has given us these strangers to aid us,’ said Auum. ‘We should not be ungrateful.’
The light of the next dawn was still faint when the panther began to growl and roar, the alien sounds of ClawBound communication echoing over Balaia for the first time.
Ilkar felt every stride of his horse through his body as if the hooves were trampling over him. He’d demanded he ride on his own, determined not be an invalid. Against all odds, he’d had a fairly comfortable night and it was not until the panther had set up its unearthly resonant calls that the pain had gripped him again and all but taken the breath from him.
He still remembered Ren’s touch and he recalled her tears as they fell asleep. He was just thankful she was still free. But his own sudden falling had been a stark reminder that in the next breath it could be her turn.
The Raven rode hard or walked their horses at a march for the whole day, once stopping briefly for a meal. Their direction would take them close to but east of Understone on a route that would keep them hidden from the town, with Darrick assuring them that ideal cover and a base for their attack was only a mile or so the other side.
Ilkar hoped and prayed he was right. At times during the day the pain became all but unbearable but he refused to cast to dull it or ask them to slow to ease it. There was fire in his veins and venom in his muscles. His stomach felt like it was being eaten from the inside, there was a rattle every time he took a breath and his heart beat off-rhythm, palpitating, slowing and pounding such that he felt it would crash through his ribs. His eyes played tricks on him while his ears heard sounds that couldn’t be - his mother’s voice calming him, his tutor at Julatsa chiding him for laziness, the sound of the wind in the sails.
Through it all he kept upright in the saddle and replied in the affirmative when any of them asked, and they asked so often it almost made him laugh, whether he was all right. Stupid question and they all knew it.
It was past dusk when they stopped in a river valley into which rocks had tumbled in ancient times, creating a maze of streams and a patchwork of green and grey. Darrick had been right. It was ideal cover. The ClawBound loped in an hour or so later. Ilkar only dimly heard what Hirad and The Unknown said to the pair before they settled down to rest. By the time he had eaten, his ears roared with a sound like thunder and his body shook with cold although the night was mild and cloudy.
‘It’s just us now,’ Hirad said, more for the benefit of Ren and Darrick than the more seasoned members of The Raven. ‘We have to work closely, move as one and keep on moving whatever we come up against. We faced down an army yesterday. Tomorrow we go to fight not talk. We all know why.’
‘We’ll be moving just before dawn,’ said The Unknown. ‘Take the fight to them while they’re still dull with sleep. We can’t rely on Ilkar’s defence because we won’t know his condition one moment to the next but we’re all right because they won’t have spell attack. We’ll be fighting without the TaiGethen or the ClawBound pair. They will attack as they must, all we’ve agreed are start points. Don’t look to them. We’re The Raven; we don’t need anyone else. Not to defend, and not to help us.’ He watched them all for reaction. ‘Now, Aeb, you have something you need to say.’
The Protector was standing at the periphery of the fire.
‘You were wrong to bring me,’ he said. ‘The Act of Giving will soon be rescinded. It is just a matter of time.’
‘It was a risk we were all happy to take,’ said Denser.
‘Xetesk know we are here,’ he said. ‘They know what we seek.’
‘And when will they get here?’ asked Hirad.
‘Tomorrow. Morning.’
‘Then,’ said Thraun, surprising them with speech after another lengthy silence, ‘we had better be quick.’
Chapter 47
When The Raven camp stirred, a light drizzle was falling. Ilkar had not slept much and looked every inch the dying elf. It was awful to witness. Shivering, Erienne kissed Denser, rose to her fee
t and breathed in deep. She felt the cool air rush into her lungs, banishing the fog she always felt around the entity of the One at first waking and easing the thumping in her head.
The Al-Drechar hadn’t spoken to her since that night in Blackthorne Castle and she was glad of it. They had opened the door a little further to power from the One and allowed her the freedom to handle it as best she could. And she had responded, working on partitioning her mind a third way to deal with the new power she alone on Balaia possessed. Further than that they had not offered questions or advice, leaving her and The Raven to do what they did best. And today was going to be a severe test of their belief. She wondered whether she dared employ what she had learned.
Windmilling her arms to smooth out the knots in her muscles, she looked at them all preparing. In so many ways like so many other preparations. While they honed the edges of their swords The Unknown, Hirad, Aeb and Darrick talked quietly, refining tactics and attack order, with Thraun standing near, taking in everything. Next to Erienne, Denser sat cross-legged in meditation, focussing his mana and examining his stamina levels. Ever since the casting of Dawnthief, he had come to a new understanding of mana. It had made him an exceptionally efficient caster.
Even Ilkar went through his routine, walking in tight circles, testing shapes and speed. Erienne wasn’t sure if he was achieving anything in casting terms but it would keep his mind as far as possible from the dreadful fate towards which he marched.
Only Ren was apart from it. The bags under her eyes and the puffiness of her face told their own story and she was just sitting on the grass, her back to a rock, staring out into nowhere. Her gaze occasionally crossed them all and she would shake her head.
Erienne walked across and squatted down beside her. She had great respect for the quiet elven woman who had been such a source of strength to her in the long days that preceded Lyanna’s death; when her desperation had been as keen as her grief subsequently became. Now the tables needed to be turned.
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