A few miles from the city, with the night full and dark, he had seen a shape climbing away from the ground and flying west. He presumed it to be the Kaan dragon of which Hirad often spoke. He quelled any anxieties by assuring his people it was friendly, his words helping him in equal measure.
He began to worry less than a mile from Julatsa. The ClawBound had reported seeing no one. No perimeter guard, no scouts looking for the enemy advance, no routine patrols on horseback. It was as if the city was at peace. The scents in the air, he was told, were of mass movement to the north and west but the ClawBound had not been free to investigate.
‘Where are the defenders?’ asked Auum, jogging easily beside him, Duele and Evunn ever his shadows.
‘I don’t know,’ said Rebraal. ‘We must be prepared that the situation here is more grave than we thought.’
‘Or perhaps they expect us to help them though they are unwilling to help themselves.’
‘We will see.’
‘Pray to Yniss it is not so,’ said Auum. ‘We are not numerous enough alone and the will must be there or they will crumble under attack.’
The streets were deserted too. Houses were locked and empty. Street lanterns were lit but they illuminated empty cobbles and darkened windows. The atmosphere might have been fitting for a city sleeping in the hours before dawn but this one should have been crawling with those desperate to see that Xetesk did not invade without a struggle.
Rebraal knew little about city defence but surely every main junction should have been defended. Guards should have been walking or riding every lane, thoroughfare and back alley. The people of Julatsa should have been too fearful of invasion to sleep. Auum expressed the fear that he held.
‘They have gone,’ he said.
And it seemed, to a large extent, that they had. The only concentration of lights in the city was at the college and there they burned bright. During their run from the first abandoned perimeter post to the closed college gates they saw fewer than ten people. And all of them just stood and watched the elves pass. No one challenged them, no one raised a hand in welcome or a fist in threat. It was as if they didn’t care.
Rebraal could feel Auum’s contempt while they waited to be admitted to the college.
‘If you believe, you fight,’ he said.
‘It isn’t the college,’ said Rebraal. ‘It is the city around it.’
‘They are part of the same,’ he said. ‘Yet their history means nothing to them, it seems. That is what makes them trivial, and takes them away from their Gods, whoever those nameless ones are. And you ask why it is I dislike humans?’ He checked himself. ‘Most humans.’
The gates opened and the elves ran in, gathering in the courtyard. Coming towards them were mages from the college accompanied by Hirad and The Unknown Warrior. The barbarian looked angry, The Unknown weary.
‘Glad you made it,’ said Hirad.
‘You don’t appear so,’ said Rebraal, smiling.
‘This place is a complete bloody shambles,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Pheone, this is Rebraal and Auum. People who might save your lives. Pheone runs the college.’
The woman was so relieved to see them she was on the verge of tears.
‘I cannot tell you how much it means to us that you’re here,’ she said. ‘Please, let my people show you all to accommodations. We need to speak to your lead mages as soon as we can. There is much to be done both to the defence of the college and in preparation to raise the Heart. I don’t think we have much time.’
Rebraal translated to Auum who turned away and began issuing instructions, his voice full of the irritation he was feeling.
‘Our lead mages will wait here to talk to you,’ said Rebraal. ‘And you are right, we don’t have much time.’ He turned to The Unknown. ‘When did you get here?’
‘Late this afternoon, replied The Unknown. ‘How far behind are they?’
‘They’ll be here well before dusk tomorrow. What is going on in the city? Why is there no guard?’
‘Because all that are left are inside here already,’ growled Hirad. ‘It is the most pitiful expression of loyalty I have ever seen. I’m almost glad Ilkar isn’t here to see it.’
‘It’s worse than that,’ said The Unknown. ‘Until we got here, the gates had been left open. If Xetesk sent assassins here when the siege broke, they could already be here in hiding.’
‘Shambles,’ muttered Hirad.
Rebraal nodded. ‘The TaiGethen and ClawBound will sweep the college.’
Hirad turned to Pheone. ‘And make sure everyone keeps out of their way and treats them with the respect they deserve. Someone’s here trying to rescue your college, even if your city folk aren’t.’
‘I know, Hirad,’ said Pheone. ‘I share your frustration, believe me.’
‘He does,’ said The Unknown. ‘But your council have struck the biggest blow yet against their own way of life. Forgive us for feeling as we do when we come to help.’ He turned to Rebraal, wincing and putting a hand to his hip. ‘As soon as you can, bring Auum to the refectory. It’s the building over there.’ He nodded to a low structure whose doors were open to spill light on to the courtyard. ‘We have the guard commander in there. He seems bright enough. We all need to talk and then we need to rest. Too many wounds from the catacombs are not healed enough.’ He paused and chewed his lip and for the first time since he’d known him, Rebraal saw doubt in The Unknown’s eyes.
‘Let’s just hope your Gods are behind us, eh? I think ours have run north with the Julatsans.’
Chapter 38
Pheone was up with the dawn the next morning feeling torn and unsure but strangely confident. For most of the college, optimism was the dominant feeling.
The arrival of the elves had galvanised the college effort. The extraordinary warriors, the painted TaiGethen, had moved like ghosts through the rooms and corridors in a sweep that left no hiding place. They, together with the mysterious and disturbing ClawBound, had established that there were no Xeteskian assassins in the college but it was more likely as the hours went by that these killers would be present in the city. So the gates remained closed and they scanned the skies ceaselessly.
The Raven, though, their effect had been amazing yet entirely predictable. Among the hundred and seventy or so mages, guards and militia, there was the undeniable feeling that they could no longer lose because The Raven never lost. And here they were, fighting for the college. Pheone couldn’t help but feel the same. Something about their air of confidence when they rode into the place, their bearing and their authority. When The Unknown Warrior spoke, you listened. When Hirad looked at you, you tried harder. When Darrick explained a better way to work in defensive teams, it seemed obvious.
But she had seen them later on that night, talking with Commander Vale, and it left her wondering whether this might not end up being their graveyard. There were three of the six over whom she had serious concerns that she dare not voice. Darrick, who had been weakened by a deep wound on his hip and who had plainly suffered through their three days of hard riding. Hirad, who, though he would never admit it, was barely free enough to fight, having sustained a sprained wrist and a damaged chest that restricted the movement of his upper body. Both clearly pained him. And, of course, Erienne. She had heard so much about Erienne and now she knew what the poor woman carried. There had been so much grief in her life, so much pressure and now she was alone with a magical force she could have no real idea how to properly control. That she was at the table at all was impressive enough. But her temper was short and she was isolated, as if continually biting back something that wasn’t her. Something that might escape if she invoked its name.
Pheone wasn’t sure whether the rest of them could see the trouble she was in and the energy she consumed in just trying to remain herself. Pheone could but, like them, could offer no assistance. Even so, she couldn’t shift the irrational thought that, once the fighting started, they would prevail. And if that belief was shared throughout the co
llege, then The Raven would already have had the desired effect and for that she was eternally grateful.
After breakfast, with the elves still resting for the attempt on the Heart that would take place after midday, she climbed up to the walls as was her habit, finding Hirad standing there, looking south. He wasn’t the only one up there. It was another fine day and away past the boundaries of the city, anyone who cared to look could see the cloud of dust that signified the approaching Xeteskians. All of them had their fingers crossed that more allies, particularly Izack and Blackthorne, arrived before their enemies.
‘How far away do you think they are?’ Pheone asked, coming to his shoulder.
He turned and smiled at her. ‘Hard to say. Half a day, perhaps a little more. Like Rebraal said, they’ll be here before nightfall. I reckon they’ll posture for the rest of the day, try and get us to surrender and then attack at dawn. But they’ll send in assassins and familiars if they can before then.’
‘It’s not a happy picture.’
‘No,’ he agreed. ‘But we have to know what we face. No sense in hiding, is there?’
‘I guess not.’
There was a long silence. Although the college walls were taller than most buildings in Julatsa, their vision of the open spaces beyond the city was still obscured by rises in the ground. When and if lzack did appear, they’d have little warning.
‘Pheone, I’m sorry about last night. It had been a long day.’
It was an apology she hadn’t expected and struggled to accept easily.
‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘We were making mistakes.’
Hirad shook his head. ‘It’s not that, really it isn’t.’ He paused. ‘I miss him. Every day when I don’t hear his voice it adds to my anger and I can’t let it go. You understand. It’s funny. When I didn’t see him for years, it hardly mattered because I knew he was fine. Now he’s gone and that time seems such a waste.’
Pheone couldn’t find the words to say anything meaningful, just nodded her head, feeling vaguely embarrassed that this man, who looked so uncompromisingly tough and had seen so much death, would speak to her like this.
‘He’s why I’m here you know,’ Hirad continued. ‘Ilkar wanted us to come and help raise the Heart but it’s gone beyond that now. I can’t help with that. But I can strike back at every one of those bastards coming here. They are all to blame.’
The warmth and sadness in his voice had vanished, to be replaced by something entirely cold. Pheone leaned away a little, desperate to change the subject.
‘But we will do it. Raise the Heart, I mean. Even if it’s only a temporary victory it’ll be for the memory of Ilkar, won’t it?’
‘It won’t be temporary,’ said Hirad and he turned and stared at her, his eyes burning into hers, not allowing her to look away. ‘Because we aren’t going to lose.’
‘I know,’ Pheone said, hoping she sounded as convincing as he did.
‘I hope you do because belief is everything.’
Hirad had none of the charisma of The Unknown Warrior but he had a heart so proud and full. No wonder Ilkar always spoke of him as the man who made The Raven live. At least now she could see exactly what he had meant.
‘Where’s Sha-Kaan?’
Hirad chuckled, his eyes losing their penetration and his expression softening. ‘Yes, he told me he’d made your acquaintance yesterday. Don’t be scared of him. He actually quite likes humans these days, I think.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘He’ll be in the Blackthorne Mountains, resting. Some cool cave or other that reminds him of his homeland, I expect. When we’re ready to send him home, I’ll call him. He’s excited about it. Can’t say I blame him. Sometimes I wish I was going with him.’
‘Why don’t you?’
‘Because I won’t betray Ilkar’s memory,’ he said.
‘Do they live in caves, then, dragons?’ Could it really be like all the stories she’d read?
‘No. They have places called Chouls where they go to rest with their Brood brothers sometimes. They’re a bit like caves. Mostly though, Sha-Kaan’s land is hot and humid and they live in buildings built by their servant race. I’ll explain it all to you one day. Maybe take you there.’
Pheone couldn’t fathom Hirad at all. That was an offer no one could turn down and so casually made like you might buy a round of drinks. From anyone else, it would surely have sounded boastful, flaunting of influence. From Hirad, not so. And he clearly meant it.
‘Could you do that?’
‘Why not?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Good. Another reason why you need to believe we can win, isn’t it?’ Hirad stretched his arms and a flicker of pain passed across his face. ‘Right, I’ve got to go and have some balm put on this damn chest.’ He paused at the top of the stairs, massaging his strapped wrist. ‘Thanks for being with him the time you were,’ he said. ‘You meant a lot to him, made him very happy. I won’t forget that.’
She watched him go and the tears began to fall.
‘Neither will I,’ she whispered.
All things considered, it couldn’t have gone much better for Dystran. He had to put aside the debacle in his catacombs because, as Ranyl had pointed out, something always goes wrong, but everything else was working out perfectly.
With few real alarms, his forces were closing in on Julatsa, where they would crush the college, the remnants of the allied forces and the elves. They would take The Raven apart, capture Erienne and the elven texts, and be effectively unopposed as rulers of Balaia.
There was no way Lystern or Dordover could threaten him now and it really just came down to how long he left them alone before crushing them too. How both cities must have wished they had built walls. How both must have wished for a less ethical approach to magic. Vuldaroq alone saw the mistake his college had been making but he wouldn’t have time to put it right. They would all pay for it now. At Dystran’s leisure.
He should have been concerned that the mages and guards he had dispatched after the few hundred allied men left him a little exposed to a concerted attack but frankly, there was none coming. His scouts had had the run of the mage lands for three days and nothing was heading his way.
The pathetic few tents that represented the army of the righteous, as that fool Selik had dubbed it, became fewer every day as more and more realised the Black Wings weren’t coming back. He’d even recalled his spies from the encampment. It was a waste of resource.
He had spent a great deal of his time in the Laryon hub, now that the place had been cleaned. He and his newly assembled research team checked and rechecked their calculations. In a day, a spell would be available to them and for a prolonged period. He had ordered his dimensional casters not to strike until the allies were within sight of Julatsa. He wanted the enemy to see their comrades destroyed if he could.
It was just a shame that the BlueStorm could not be cast. That particular conjunction would not happen again for some time. Still, the alternative would be just as devastating, if less visually impressive.
Dystran foresaw the end of the war in a maximum of three days from now. Standing on his balcony before flying across to see Ranyl, he reminded himself to give some thought to the order of the country once he had assessed his own home strength. It was going to be a big task, ruling Balaia, but, as the only magical force left, he would be uniquely positioned to be its first ever sole leader.
It was a frightening thought, he had to admit. He cast ShadowWings and drifted slowly across the space to Ranyl’s tower. One day soon, he would land and find the old man dead. The one man he needed more than any of them.
He hoped today was not that day.
The refectory was empty barring one table in its centre. Across it were spread maps of the city and hastily drawn sketches of the surrounding mage lands. Though they had all begun sitting down, all but Erienne were standing now, intent on the plans. Izack had arrived shortly before midday and the meeting had taken plac
e immediately, with Xetesk’s forces just a few hours behind and marching with great confidence. Izack stood with The Raven, Commander Vale, Pheone, Rebraal and Auum.
‘So you’re saying that Blackthorne won’t be here before Xetesk?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Yes,’ said Izack. ‘Right now, he’s holed up here.’ He tapped the map of the land between Xetesk and Julatsa. ‘He’s made the right decision. He’s got about fifty with him but they are in no condition to fight. Better he rests a day and attacks the rear when he can. We’ll be in contact so I can direct him.’
‘I’ll trust your judgement,’ said The Unknown.
‘On a brighter note, we know that the allies have moved from their siege positions south and west of Xetesk and are coming to reinforce. They’ll be here a day after the Xeteskians, all things being equal. Now Xetesk will know they are coming so they’ll be pushing very hard when they attack which, I think, we all believe will be tomorrow. But it could be late this afternoon, so we have to be prepared. Agreed?’
There were nods around the table.
‘Right, General.’ The Unknown winked at Darrick. ‘Since you’re a wanted man but Izack doesn’t seem too keen on taking you into custody and his men have searched high and low but can’t find you, perhaps you’d like to repeat what you suggested to us last night.’
‘Be glad to,’ said Darrick. ‘All right by you, Commander Izack?’
‘I’ll only arrest you if I don’t like the plan.’
Darrick almost smiled. ‘All right. Well, it doesn’t take much to see that the numbers don’t add up. This college is too big for us to hope to defend the walls from the inside. We simply don’t have the forces. Not only that, not all of our skills suit defence of this nature so I’m advocating a split approach.
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