And as he walked up the steps of the gatehouse tower, a thought struck The Unknown hard.
‘Are you feeling strong, Denser?’
Denser managed a smile. ‘That thought has occurred to you too, has it?’
‘Only just now.’
‘Do you think Darrick overlooked it?’
‘You’d think not, but even great generals are fallible.’
Not this one, though, Denser thought a short while later. At least, not this time.
‘It isn’t the plan I would have chosen,’ Darrick said, ‘but we have no choice. We do have some protection here. We can keep them on their toes for as long as we have arrows but that’s as far as it goes. After all, there will be magical shielding though soldiers might not enjoy the same protection as the mages. It depends how many mages they have and how many the Xeteskian commander thinks he needs to knock over the walls. Everyone here is briefed to watch and move in the case of spell attack. Izack and Auum both have their targets. I had to leave the cavalry mages with Izack. He represents our best chance of winning this so long as he can deal with the Xeteskian horsemen.’
‘And meanwhile, we just stand here as targets?’ said Hirad.
‘No, Hirad, you stand here and don’t turn away. Strength for us, anxiety for those attacking us. That is why all The Raven are here. To be seen. Anyway, the more spells they waste on the walls, the better I like it for the time being. Assuming Pheone’s assessment of the shielding is not too generous.’
‘What about the ClawBound?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Well they’re out there,’ said Darrick. ‘But since they don’t really even like to speak to the TaiGethen, you can imagine how far I got. Anything they do is a bonus.’
‘You know what the Xeteskians will do once they realise we have no spells, don’t you?’ said Denser.
Darrick nodded. ‘It had not escaped my attention. I have grouped the Al-Arynaar archers and they are fast around the walls. Plus, Izack knows what to look for. Any conventionally shielded concentration of mages is a prime target.’
‘And what if they make, say, four groups?’ asked Hirad.
‘They’ll need twenty at least in any group-casting to do breaching damage,’ said Darrick. ‘I don’t think they have enough strength to make four such groups.’
‘Or you hope they don’t.’
‘Hirad, if there is only one variable in this battle, I will be very happy.’
‘Whatever you say.’
‘We’re standing above the weak point now, where we need to be. This is where they will come.’
And they did, within the hour as predicted. Marching through the streets, cavalry outriders keeping them ordered. The noise of their approach wasn’t triumphal. None of the few citizens who looked on from upper windows waved, cheered or quailed. There were no songs, no taunts, no jeers. Every side had lost too much to make any assumptions. But there was purpose and there was belief. The Unknown worried about that. The moments to come would be critical.
The college of Julatsa was an island surrounded by a sea of cobbles. Heading off the square were roads to the central market, the grain store, the merchant quarter and the north tenements. Without a fuss, the Xeteskians surrounded their goal under the watchful eyes of The Raven, Commander Vale and his small but loyal guard, a handful of volunteers. The Al-Arynaar looked on with blank contempt.
The Unknown saw Darrick stiffen as the enemy general rode up to the gate house, flanked by two riders carrying flags of parley in white and deep blue quarters. A shield mage rode behind him. He led a disciplined force. There was no talking in the ranks, they just stared, their confidence in their numbers obvious.
‘I believe I should be addressing Commander Vale or a mage named Pheone,’ said the Xeteskian. ‘Though, and I mean no disrespect, I am before perhaps more illustrious company. General Darrick, it is an honour to remake your acquaintance.’
‘I remember you well, Commander Chandyr,’ said Darrick. ‘However, I do not speak for the college of Julatsa. Commander Vale stands to my right.’
‘I am Vale,’ he said. ‘What is it you wish to discuss?’
‘Commander Vale, my request is simple. Open your gates. Lead those inside from the college grounds. You will not be harmed, merely disarmed. We have come to take control of Julatsa.’ Chandyr’s voice echoed for all to hear this side of the college. Vale’s was similarly resounding.
‘You understand that what you ask is impossible,’ said Vale.
The Unknown watched him, confident he would not flinch. Talking with him had been to hear a man possessed of a keen understanding of what was at stake here. Not just for Julatsa, but for Balaia. A shame his erstwhile council colleagues had not been so well informed.
‘Any student of magical history is aware of the critical importance of maintaining a balance between the colleges,’ continued Vale. ‘Each strand of the art as supporter and moderator of the others. Leaving our college would lead to irrevocable destruction of that balance.
‘Our counter request is also simple. We call for an end to this conflict and aid in placing our college back on an even footing. We ask that for ourselves, yes, and also for the whole of our country, which we can all agree has surely suffered enough. If we do not work together as we did until so recently, magic across our land will ultimately die.
‘Finally, I would remind every Xeteskian mage of the personal consequences every Julatsan mage faces should you destroy this college’s Heart. I cannot speak from knowledge but I have seen the haunted expressions of those contemplating a life without magic. Ask your mages what they fear the most. For all of them it is the same. Can they willingly submit their fellows to that appalling fate?’
Chandyr did not reply immediately. He was a man confident in command and aware enough to test the atmosphere among his own men. He turned in his saddle to see what, if anything, his mages betrayed. When he looked back, his face was bleak. He shrugged.
‘The reality of war is harsh, Commander. The victors gain what they desire and the vanquished suffer. Sometimes this is death, at other times imprisonment or servitude. And for mages in this conflict, it will be the loss of their life purpose and worse.
‘I cannot be sentimental. War is fought by at least two sides. Neither are blameless, neither desires the pain they inflict but they see there is no alternative. War comes when every other option is exhausted. Commander, I will repeat my offer. Surrender the college. No one else has to die. The conflict will end and Julatsa will remain self-governing.’
‘We will not surrender,’ said Vale. ‘We cannot.’
‘I know you can’t, Commander. But I am not an honourable man if I do not offer you terms. I also offer you this. One hour to talk and think. If the gates are not open in that time, you will be attacked.’
Vale nodded. ‘Go sharpen your swords, Commander Chandyr. You will need them. Should we relinquish this college, it will be at the severest cost to yourselves that we can inflict. And we have allies. Are you so sure you can defend against them after that cost is borne?’
‘One hour,’ said Chandyr.
He turned his horse and rode away with his men back to his lines. The Unknown watched him go before following Vale and The Raven back down into the courtyard inside the gates.
‘I think a cool drink is in order,’ said Vale, leading them to the refectory.
‘It was a fine performance,’ said The Unknown. ‘It will give him cause for thought.’
‘It’ll do more than that,’ said Darrick. ‘Your last comment about his strength even should he win was very well judged. It will make him cautious.’
‘It only occurred to me at the last moment,’ admitted Vale.
‘Such things turn battles,’ said Darrick.
‘So, General,’ said Hirad. ‘How well did you train him, then?’
‘He was a good student,’ said Darrick. ‘But Lysternan soldiers always had extra lectures and training. Wouldn’t do to tell them absolutely everything, would it?’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Hirad. ‘Even thinking about fighting them as you taught them.’
‘Yes Hirad,’ said Darrick, ushering him into the refectory. ‘And learning about all of their weaknesses too. And Chandyr is about to show us one of his.’
‘Which is?’
‘Impatience.’
Chapter 40
Darrick had a last look around him as Chandyr’s patience ran out. His forces were stretched so thin. All it would take was the Xeteskian to see the opportunity and the college could fall before nightfall. He had played his cards and now he had to trust those outside to save them when the time came, if it came.
Around the walls, the waiting was all but over. He had committed all of his bowmen to the walls, forty in the arc around the gatehouse, the one entrance into the college. Around the walls, they were collected in five groups of fifteen, each connected by hastily trained flagmen of the Julatsan guardsmen and knots of Al-Arynaar warriors.
The solitary fit mage, Denser, stood with him, as did all The Raven. They were powerless right now but should a breach be forced in gate or wall, The Raven would be all that stood between Xetesk and a rout. They would never turn their backs and run.
Buildings obstructed his view across the college, as they did at points all around the walls. Communication, he had insisted, would be critical if they were to react to Xetesk’s moves. This would not be a conventional siege. Xetesk had to get in before the Heart could be raised or risk facing enough Julatsan magical power to hold them off.
Darrick wasn’t surprised Chandyr had chosen to attack tonight but he thought it was a mistake. His men had marched for three and a half days, covering the ground quickly. Their horses would be tired too. He had familiars and mages high in the sky, looking at what they could see from beyond spell range but they should have been looking further out into the city. Out there, their enemies were far more deadly.
Chandyr might be aware that the cavalry weren’t saddled and ready in the compound, but Darrick doubted he’d thought about the possibility of the small allied forces being split inside and outside the college walls. He was soon to get one of those lessons Darrick kept for Lysternans only.
‘Let’s be ready,’ said Darrick. ‘Signalman, flag the stand-by.’
‘Yes sir,’ the young guardsman, excited by the chance to stand with not just General Darrick but The Raven too, turned and held his flag horizontally above his head, hands either side of the bright yellow material. The signal was passed quickly around the walls.
Chandyr had massed his cavalry, a hundred of them, behind his lines facing the gate. It was all the evidence Darrick needed that the Xeteskian had no idea where Izack was and it was the move he and his former second-in-command had been counting on. But Chandyr wasn’t showing his entire hand. He still had his foot soldiers scattered in a loose ring around the college, and of the mage group there was no clear sign.
Chandyr rode up and down in front of his men, watching the walls of the college, waiting and hoping. He would have waited until the day he died for the gates to be opened for him.
‘Here it comes,’ said Darrick. ‘Signalman, when it starts, listen to my commands. We will need our response to be instant.’
‘Yes sir.’
Chandyr stopped, dragged his horse to face his enemies, nodded once towards them and held up his sword in salute. He kicked into the flanks of his horse and dragged back on the reins. The animal reared, his sword swept down and the battle commenced.
Orders rang out around the courtyard and Chandyr’s soldiers formed up. Shield bearers moved to the head of two large groups in front of the gates, crossbowmen and archers behind them. In the centre of each group, unarmed men who had to be mages, came together. Darrick counted twenty at least in each group. Swordsmen stood at the flanks but as they approached, he could see the rear of each group not defended.
‘Archers, pick your targets!’ he shouted. ‘I don’t want to see a single shaft strike a shield. Signalman, flag the attack. I want your response as soon as you have it. Don’t be polite.’
‘Sir.’
‘Waiting,’ said Darrick. ‘Waiting. When those spells come over, remember what we practised.’
The message passed along the lines immediately left and right. Al-Arynaar archers stood ready, Julatsan guardsmen creating the illusion of numbers though Darrick was keen to ensure no concentrations of men. Scattering was still an option. Above the gatehouse, the carved stone roof gave significant protection. Elsewhere on the walls, no such protection existed. Gods, they never thought they’d need it again and even above Darrick, the stone was more ornament than armour.
Forty yards from the gates, more orders and the groups stopped. To Darrick’s left, a bowstring twanged, the shaft skipping off the cobbles well ahead of the enemy. The General glared at the guardsman.
‘Take your lead from the elves,’ he hissed. ‘Elevation, timing, everything. We do not have the arrows to waste.’
Two ranks of men held shields, the first at ground level, the second at head height. It was a decent wall but there weren’t enough to go around. A good archer would find the gaps. Another shouted order from the courtyard and arrows and crossbow bolts began to fly, smacking into walls and flying high over the parapet. It was a poor first salvo but that wouldn’t last.
‘Return fire!’ ordered Darrick. ‘Do not flinch, they will be casting now.’
His order was translated and forty elven bows were brought to bear. The air filled with metal-tipped shafts carving their way into the enemy, slamming into armour, shields and exposed flesh, forcing Chandyr’s bowmen to duck their heads. Another volley from the elves took out more along the flanks but the mages were well-protected. A third volley bounced off HardShields, none getting through.
‘Come on, Auum, where are you?’ whispered Darrick.
‘Sir, single group attack to the rear. No others,’ reported the signalman.
‘Thank you. Move two groups of archers rear.’
‘Sir.’
The deep blue glow was visible a split second before the spell was cast. It was a single FlameOrb, the size of a covered wagon. It appeared above the heads of the left hand group, a second mimicking it above the right hand group. They hung for a heartbeat before flying straight and fast towards the gatehouse, one for the defenders, one for the wood.
‘Watching!’ roared Darrick. ‘Watching!’
The lower Orb ploughed in fast, shaking the walls around it, blue fire splattering wide.
‘Go!’
The gatehouse defenders ran left and right as instructed, clearing the area in moments, scattering around the walls, crouching below the ornamental battlements and watching the spell crash in. It burst like a waterskin, fire raining over the roofing, blasting through the open spaces where they had just been standing and shooting high into the sky. The wall bindings crackled but held comfortably, the mana blaze dying away quickly with nothing to feast upon.
‘Form up!’ said Darrick. ‘Let’s stand tall!’
He led the defenders back into the gatehouse, Hirad and The Unknown next to him.
‘This is fun, isn’t it?’ growled Hirad.
‘They can’t cast forever,’ said Darrick.
‘They won’t have to,’ said The Unknown. ‘Not like that. As soon as they know we’re not shielded, they’ll change their attack.’
‘I know,’ said Darrick. ‘I know. Where are—’
A shuddering impact behind them sent smoke and blue flame soaring into the sky from the rear of the college. Into the relative quiet that followed, Darrick heard the sound of hooves on cobbles and, nearer to him, the roar of a panther.
‘Our turn.’
Izack had walked his horses as close as he’d dared while the Xeteskians arranged themselves for battle. Chandyr had shown his naivety as Darrick had hoped, assuming everyone would be inside the college. And the fact that the city had capitulated had worked to their advantage, allowing Chandyr to feel relatively secure he was not
about to feel an arrow in his back from every window.
But he had set a perimeter guard nonetheless and before reaching them, Izack had taken the muffles from every hoof and had mounted his men. He had precisely sixty. Fifty swordsmen and ten mages. He knew his route to the rear of the college, aware that a central street would give the attackers thirty yards of warning when he rounded the last right-hand turn. But he would be at a gallop, and their minds would be elsewhere.
Stopping for a moment, he turned in his saddle and nodded at his men. Spell and HardShields were up, his swordsmen were in disciplined order and would spread to fill the street as they entered it. They had their attack orders. He would call the fight after first contact. He faced forwards once more, raised his sword arm and swept it down, simultaneously kicking into the flanks of his horse. The animal sprang away and the Lysternan cavalry pounded through Julatsa, the voices of his men loud and confident.
Izack rounded the last corner, his cavalry fanning out to left and right, straightening and powering in for the college. He saw spells striking the walls, arcing out to scatter defenders. HotRain was falling like a torrent in one quarter, the rocks of an EarthHammer were standing jagged from the cobbles in front of the walls which were displaying the first crack. The Al-Arynaar answered as best they could, picking targets but seeing most of their arrows bouncing from solid magical shields.
They were seen at the full thirty yards’ distance by the perimeter guard whom Izack could see shouting the alarm. The Lysternan cavalry ate up the space between them, closing fast on the thin line of perimeter guard to whom help was coming but too late. Izack, his horse bred for this and not flinching, watched the odd crossbow bolt bounce from the shield surrounding them, held his sword down and to his right. He set himself low in his saddle and whipped his blade up into the defence of the first perimeter guardsman, battering it aside and knocking the man from his feet.
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