Dystran jumped from his horse and handed the reins to a waiting stable hand.
‘What?’
‘This way, my Lord.’
Suarav indicated around the college walls and led the way. They walked quickly across the open space between the college and the rest of the city, heading for drab tenements and blank-faced warehouses. The guard captain walked down a stinking, narrow alley into gloomy shadow that gave a lie to the brightness of the morning. A buzzing sound up ahead revealed itself to be a cloud of flies underneath which, three guardsmen stood, swatting ineffectually.
‘This isn’t a time for a walkabout view of social deprivation in Xetesk,’ said Dystran, without a clue why he was being dragged down here.
‘I can assure you it is nothing of the sort,’ said Suarav. His tone was not encouraging.
They walked down the alley in silence. Thirty odd yards in, Dystran was presented with five bodies. The rats had got to work in the time since the men had died. Two of them were dressed in rough clothes and Dystran couldn’t care less about them. What concerned him greatly was the patrol of three that lay with them.
‘How long have they been dead?’ he asked.
‘A day, maybe more,’ said Suarav. ‘We knew they were missing but didn’t suspect this. As you know, we have had the odd attempted desertion.’
Ignoring the stench of death and the mass of flies swarming about the corpses, Dystran and Suarav knelt for a closer examination.
‘At first we thought this was a fight gone wrong between thieves and our men, but it can’t be that.’
‘Why not?’ asked Dystran, who had assumed exactly the same. He turned his head to one side to try and breathe some cleaner air.
‘Just look at the wounds,’ said Suarav. ‘These two bastards don’t have a mark on them but their necks are broken. Our men have been taken down by a clean arrow shot here, and a crushed windpipe and a single thrust here. The third’s had his throat torn out. I’m afraid these men have all been killed by the same foe. We’ve seen it before in these alleys.’
‘Elves,’ grated Dystran. ‘In my city. Again.’
Last time, with Yron’s help, the elves had taken back the ancient elven thumb fragment from under Xeteskian noses. It had stopped the elven plague in its tracks and swung the war away from Xetesk. Dystran wasn’t about to allow that sort of thing to happen again. He straightened quickly and strode from the alley, Suarav in his wake.
‘Double the number of patrols, treble the guard on the archives, use any spare men to watch the entrances to the catacombs. No one who can use a sword or a spell sleeps tonight in my college, understand? ’
‘My Lord?’
‘There aren’t many elves in the battle today. Chandyr thought they were preparing for a breakout by us but they aren’t, are they?’ Dystran shook his head. ‘Some of those bastards are coming in here tonight. Perhaps all of them.’
The trouble was, he reflected on his way back to his Tower, with almost all the remaining Protectors banished from the college grounds because of their questionable loyalties - Dystran suspected but not could not prove, yet, their complicity in the theft of the thumb fragment - he didn’t necessarily have the men to keep the college secure from the elves. Any normal strike force, yes, but these people were way too clever, way too fierce. One thing he had to do was put watchers on the city walls.
There was a great deal to be done.
In the end, Tessaya and Devun hadn’t spoken much that first evening. The Wesmen Lord had seen the Black Wing’s tiredness, had apologised for their treatment while insisting on its necessity and had seen Devun and his men to a freshly pitched tent outside his camp boundaries.
He hadn’t been recalled until after midday the following day, by which time he and his men were rested, refreshed and well fed, if still nervous at their position. Returning to Tessaya’s tent at the sullen request of a Wesmen warrior with the most halting Balaian, Devun breathed in the scents of steaming bowls of flower petals and incense candles, relaxing perceptibly.
Tessaya was dressed much as he had been the previous night and he showed Devun to one of his sofas, offered him food from the platter of bread, fruit and meat on the table between them, and sat down himself.
‘So, where did we leave it last night?’ he asked ‘You had told me of the appetite for war being displayed by the colleges, the continuing troubles of Julatsa following our own successful occupation there, and the siege currently in place around Xetesk. Lystern and Dordover in alliance, you said?’
‘Yes, my Lord,’ said Devun.
‘Please.’ Tessaya held up a hand. ‘I am not your lord. To you, I am Tessaya, as to me you are Devun.’
‘Thank you,’ said Devun, disarmed in spite of himself by the charm of this man, whom he had heard to be little more than a savage. ‘And they are aided by elves from the southern continent of Calaius.’
‘Yes, fascinating,’ said Tessaya. ‘Very capable, you said.’
‘Extraordinary,’ replied Devun. ‘I myself was witness to an attack of theirs when three elves killed fifteen of my men. A match for Protectors, I’ve heard it said.’
Tessaya raised his eyebrows. ‘Now that would be worth seeing. But to business. You came here looking for my assistance. I am at a loss as to how to give it. I can hardly join a siege perpetuated by my sworn enemies and I do not see the point of attacking them and letting Xetesk, the worst of them by far, off the leash.’
He sat back, having grabbed an apple from the platter, and now bit into it, washing down the fruit with a goblet of wine. Devun felt himself being pierced by Tessaya’s startling gaze, which blazed from beneath heavy brows.
‘I agree with what you say, and I am not asking you to join the siege alongside the colleges. Before Selik was murdered by The Raven, he had built an army of the righteous. Ordinary Balaians who, like you and me, want to see an end to the evil that is magic.
‘He wanted to attack Xetesk on a new front, bring down its walls and in doing so, allow Lystern and Dordover in to pull down its towers. But our army has faltered in sight of the walls and needs fresh energy. The Wesmen could provide that as our friends and allies.’
Devun hoped he’d set out the argument as Selik would have wanted. He poured a goblet of thick red wine with a slightly unsteady hand and tried to relax tense shoulders.
‘The Wesmen are not used to being a mere distraction,’ said Tessaya. ‘And it remains our sworn intention to stand in the centre of Xetesk and pull down its towers ourselves. Tell me, do you think that Xetesk is surviving the siege well?’
‘So far, it seems, and very well. While they have not threatened to break it, their lines in front of their gates have not been seriously tested by all the reports I have received, though I must admit my intelligence is incomplete.’
Tessaya drained his goblet, refilling while he spoke. ‘You are not a natural military tactician, Devun. I mean no disrespect by that. I, on the other hand, have studied the ways of eastern warfare as it has developed over the centuries our scribes have been recording events. The Spirits can tell us much too, if you know which questions to ask.
‘From what you have said and from what I know from other sources, I think one of two things. First, the siege is not intended to lead to the overthrow of Xetesk but to negotiated surrender. Lystern, to my knowledge, has no desire to see Xetesk die but clearly wants to change its leadership. About Dordover, I know little, though they are more combative. Second, Xetesk may be waiting its moment. Do not mistake lack of action for lack of ability to act.’
‘Why would they not wish to break the siege at the earliest opportunity? ’ Devun was both confused and embarrassed.
‘Who knows the minds of mages, Devun?’ smiled Tessaya, and Devun felt as if he was being gently chided by his father. ‘And I may be wrong. What we must do, though, is think very clearly. And what I think is this. If I was to emerge as the head of an army and march towards the college lands, I would instantly unite the colleges against a common
enemy.
‘It is strange you and Selik failed to consider this possibility and a more suspicious man than myself might wonder at your real motive for coming here to invite me into the war.’
He paused and Devun felt the colour drain from his face. He thought about protesting but if Tessaya considered him an agent of some unification arm of the colleges, he was as good as dead already. So he decided to take a long drink instead.
Tessaya chuckled. ‘Good. I am glad you feel no need to defend yourself. And I know the beliefs of the Black Wings and share them. I think your only crime is naivety. So, assuming this is not an option, we must hope that the Xeteskians will strike out. Assuming they want to gain dominion over magic as we must, where would they go?’
Devun knew the answer to that one. Selik had told him. ‘Julatsa,’ he said. ‘To finish the job you started.’
‘Precisely. And so help us in our aim and, in the process, take much of the siege army away from their walls to stop them. In that circumstance, I might be persuaded to strike.’
‘So, what must I do?’ asked Devun.
‘Go back to Xetesk. Watch for their move if such they make. Remember. If no move is made and they are weakened by invasion or surrender, this helps us as much as them marching to Julatsa would. Indeed, if they do surrender, I would propose that Julatsa be our first strike.’
‘You seem very well informed already,’ said Devun.
‘No,’ said Tessaya. ‘But I can read the military mind. It is why I am still alive.’
‘I have heard about your heroics,’ said Devun.
‘Just necessities to keep my people from extinction.’ Tessaya waved a hand. ‘Now, the other thing we must discuss before you leave is what the Wesmen will gain from any alliance. I have to be sure you have the authority to grant me what I want.’
‘Tell me what it is and I will do everything in my power to see you get it,’ said Devun.
‘Ah, but there’s the problem. How great is your power? And please do not make the mistake of thinking we will simply melt back to the west of the Blackthorne Mountains when the colleges are thrown down.’
Another chill stole over Devun. He hadn’t thought through the consequences and now Tessaya knew everything about the weak state of eastern Balaia. Too late to put the djinn back in the bottle.
‘The force of the people is with the Black Wings whom I control. With magic gone, east and west can live side by side. We can take Balaia forward to a future of prosperity for us all. We would welcome your people into our lands to live alongside us. Over time, of course. People will be suspicious and even my words might not be enough, should others be seen to be taking advantage.’
‘Indeed,’ said Tessaya and his smile split his face. ‘Now, drink up and go and talk to your men. I have plans to make, a council to call and an army to raise. All in very quick time. I will call you back tonight. Then you will tell me what you offer the Wesmen and I will respond with our guarantees.
‘Don’t disappoint me.’
‘You need not fear that,’ said Devun, getting up, his heart heavy and his stomach churning. He tried not to think about what he might have just begun.
‘Oh, one last thing, just to humour me,’ said Tessaya. ‘You mentioned The Raven. Whatever happened to them?’
With anger replacing his nausea, Devun related everything he knew.
Chapter 12
It was early evening and the cloud was thickening appreciably overhead. It was going to be a fortuitously dark night. The Unknown Warrior, Izack, Darrick and Baron Blackthorne sat around their fire. The latter was a reluctant but welcome addition to the siege army, his normally stern, dark features deepened still further by his enforced decision.
All around them, the elven camp was alive with quiet activity. The Al-Arynaar prepared, the TaiGethen prayed and ClawBound stood sentinel while more of their kind travelled the ground to Xetesk and their planned entry point.
The Raven too, readied themselves. Armour straps were buckled and swords sheathed in silence. Strips of cloth were wound into buckles and cinches, hilts tied down hard, scabbards bound in thicker weave, chain links greased and darkened.
‘Second-guessing Xetesk has never been easy,’ said Blackthorne, one hand smoothing his impeccably trimmed, grey-flecked black beard.
‘True, but we have no choice but to assume a successful raid tonight will hasten their decision to attempt to break the siege,’ said The Unknown.
‘But how ready are they?’ asked Darrick.
‘Our view is that they could move any time they wanted to. The TaiGethen have been inside Xetesk every night for the past ten. They’ve seen the cycling of soldiers and mages, they’ve seen fresh units training in the streets. They’ve reported forges pressing more weapons than can possibly be used on the siege fronts and they’re building supply. Damned if I know where the food is coming from but it’s getting in. Importantly, we’ve seen an increase in activity following the Julatsan mana failure.’
‘So, do we assume they’ll attempt to break siege immediately we escape with the writings?’ asked The Unknown.
‘I do admire your confidence,’ said Blackthorne.
‘Never been wrong so far,’ replied The Unknown.
‘I think there’s every likelihood Dystran will mobilise immediately, ’ said Darrick. ‘We know he wants to destroy Julatsa first; that’s why the siege is in place, after all. Second, he knows the elves won’t leave here until they get their sacred writings back from him. And third, he knows we have to use the elven mages to help us raise the Heart of Julatsa. Hence, he’s happy to perpetuate the siege. We force his hand, he’ll come after us, mark my words.
‘But when we make the run for Julatsa, he’ll want to break us before we can establish a defence. He can’t do that if he’s two days behind us. If the TaiGethen are right, we may only be a couple of hours ahead of him when we start to move north.’
‘That leaves the allied forces with a dilemma.’ Blackthorne stretched out his legs.
‘How so?’ asked Darrick.
‘We are not of one accord regarding our field positions to await Xetesk’s expected attack,’ said Izack.
‘What’s not to agree? We’re in position aren’t we?’ Darrick let his shoulders slump. ‘You’d better explain.’
‘It’s another reason the Baron has joined the Lysternan lines,’ said Izack. ‘We’ve been in discussions with Dordover’s military command for days now and reached an impasse very early on. It all rests on where Xetesk will focus their breakout.’
‘The north gate, presumably,’ said The Unknown.
‘Exactly. And defended by Dordovans, as is the west gate. And so far there has been little activity there by the way - no probing, no attempts to get scouts into the field, Cloaked or otherwise. The Dordovans feel their forces at the north gate are going to be hit hard if not routed when Xetesk tries to break for Julatsa and it’s hard to disagree with them.’
‘So what are they proposing?’ asked Darrick, voice a little weary.
‘That the siege is lifted and we make battlefield preparations north of Xetesk. Take them head-on, all of us,’ said Izack.
Darrick was shaking his head. ‘When?’
‘General?’ queried Izack, slipping easily back into his old place in the chain of command.
‘When are they planning to start dismantling their camps and shifting their forces to wherever this mythical battlefield is? And, might I add, I can think of few places where we could use our possibly - and I repeat, possibly - superior numbers to our advantage. ’
Izack shifted on his seat. ‘Well, as soon as we apprise them that the elves are going in to raid.’
‘Gods burning, they are more stupid than I thought,’ said Darrick.
‘But they could be slaughtered,’ said Izack.
‘So what?’ snapped Darrick. ‘This is a war. Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. We cannot risk Julatsa’s demise. If we lose them, balance is lost forever. Don’t they under
stand that?’
‘They understand they are in the front line,’ said Blackthorne. ‘They are just men.’
‘In war, no one is just a man,’ said Darrick. ‘He can be greater than his dreams or another passive victim of the conflict.’ The Unknown felt a slap on his arm. ‘You understand.’
‘Yes I do,’ said The Unknown. ‘But we are no longer dealing with soldiers here. Or not just soldiers.’
‘I appreciate that.’
‘Do you, Darrick?’ The Unknown raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t think you do. Many of the men out there have had their spades, rakes and brushes taken from them and swords thrust in their hands. They aren’t soldiers. They will fight but they will fear. They aren’t like us. We are born to fight. These men will bake your bread tomorrow. Do you see?’
‘I see they are defending their freedom.’
‘But understand they see it through different eyes than ours,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Heap responsibility on them as high as you like but one man in every two facing both HellFire and Protectors outside that north gate was not a soldier even a season ago.’
Darrick was silent for a while. Beneath his lank curls, his face creased while he fought to get his thoughts into order. It was clear he was struggling.
‘It makes no difference,’ he said. ‘They have a role to fulfil. And that role is stopping Xetesk marching an army north for as long as they can. To the last man if they have to. And before you break in, there are two factors here.
‘Firstly, I can’t believe the Dordovan command believes it has a better chance of marshalling its bakers’ boys out in the open field in a battle line a mile long than it does here - with or without Lysternan assistance.
‘Second, the moment they pull back from the walls, they announce their intentions good and loud to Xetesk. They hand the Dark College the initiative and sentence all of us inside at the time to death - let’s not fool ourselves. Dystran is clever and well advised. He’ll know what we’re attempting and all attempt at secrecy will be lost.
The Raven Collection Page 225