Demonstorm lotr-3

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Demonstorm lotr-3 Page 27

by James Barclay


  Auum took his arm and led him away from them. 'Enough. Forget them. We have the strength without them should they refuse to come.'

  'We have a responsibility to save them too.'

  'You have spent too much time listening to Hirad and your brother's spirit.' Auum allowed himself a small smile. 'Now. Carts and horses. Do we have enough?'

  'Barely,' said Rebraal. 'We're fortunate that Pheone demanded Julatsa keep its breeding pairs alive. Consequently, we have some young and strong animals capable of pulling carts though fertility is as bad here as it was in Blackthorne. How they would fare under attack, we won't know until we try. Carts are a more pressing problem.'

  'Firewood?'

  'Enough have gone that way but even those that remain are in disrepair. There isn't a wheelwright in the college. Carpenters are doing what they can and we're searching the stables and college buildings for traces and tack. We should have enough workable gear to carry casting mages and the bulk of provisions but any other mages might have to travel unprotected.'

  Auum nodded. T will instruct the warriors to that end.'

  'Will they attack, do you think?' Rebraal gestured above his head at the demons circling and watching there.

  'Unlikely,' he said. 'They know we are planning something but they also know the price they pay for attacking this college. What would you do?'

  'I would wait until I was certain what was happening. When we drive through the gates, that would be the time.'

  'Yes, my friend, it would. We will be at our most restricted and vulnerable. Our warriors will have to fight hard.'

  'Tual will guide our hands.'

  'And Shorth will see our enemies to torment.' The two elves clasped arms. 'We will do this.'

  'Yniss will watch over us all.'

  With night full, Auum had been proved right and the demons hadn't attacked. But there were signs that they were massing, expecting a break-out. Roadblocks were plainly visible on all approach roads to the college. Demons flew a grid over the area immediately surrounding the college walls. Others hovered above the college, looking, watching. Waiting.

  Auum and Rebraal had conducted a series of briefings with the Al-Arynaar mages and warriors in the lecture theatre, discussing tactics for the first move out of the gates and what was expected of them on the anticipated three-day journey south to Xetesk. For some of that

  time, the TaiGethen cell would be absent, heading for Triverne Lake to collect The Raven.

  Finally, Rebraal was standing with Pheone before the college council and the surviving humans in the college. There were one hundred and seven of them all told. Thirty-four mages and the rest college guard and those who had been invited inside the walls before the demons attacked. All were scared, all resentful. But all resigned to what was going to happen.

  'Much has been demanded of you all in the last day and there has been little time for politeness. Much more will be demanded of you in the days to come. Most of you have questioned the decision that was taken without your consent. There is no debate. Now is the time to trust me. Trust Auum.'

  He waited for a murmur of conversation to settle.

  'You have heard all you need to about the conditions outside this college and the plight in which we find ourselves. Now is the time to believe that you can make a difference. That by this journey and the subsequent defence at Xetesk you can play your part in the salvation of man- and elvenkind.'

  He held up his hands at the ripple of comment.

  'You think that overdramatic? How quickly you have become accustomed to the way you now live, if that is the case. When was the last time you made significant advance or saved a soul from beyond the shell of the ColdRooms? Do not doubt that the cursyrd, the demons, are in control of your country. They mean to stay here and consume you. You have become prey, and like all other natural predators they pluck you as they need you. Do you truly believe that by staying in this cocoon you will defeat them?'

  Again he waited, this time greeted with an uncomfortable shifting. He nodded.

  'Those of you who know me and who have got to know the Al-Arynaar during your confinement here will no doubt have gathered that elves do not necessarily hold humans in high regard.'

  A chuckle ran around the chamber.

  'But neither are we frivolous with your lives. Many of us have lifelong friends among you and we appreciate your strengths as well as lamenting your weaknesses. My own brother chose to live and die among humans. For me, there is no greater measure of the potential of your race. And for that reason alone, I would see you thrive, and

  us with you. That is why you must accept that the course we now take is all that remains open to us. The evidence you will see with your own eyes beyond these walls.

  'The journey we will undertake at dawn tomorrow will be dangerous. But I want to give you this assurance. Elves know your vulnerability to the demons' touch. We do not expect of you heroics and sacrifice. That is to come in Xetesk and all of you need to live to see the walls of the dark college. We will take on the burden of defending the caravan while you rest as you can and watch as you need. For the mages, we need you to be the bedrock of our moving ColdRoom construct and so you will travel for much of the time in the wagons we have repaired.

  'For the rest of you, we need those who can drive wagons and who know horses to volunteer for that duty. We are not knowledge able about these animals.' He smiled. 'It seems even we have weak nesses.'

  More laughter, a little easier this time. He held up his hands.

  'I won't keep you from your rest much longer and I urge you to sleep for as long as you can because this caravan will only stop to rest horses, not humans. Two final things. You will naturally feel that the caravan leaves you more vulnerable than the college. It does not. Only the ColdRooms keep you from being taken by the demons at will. This structure will still be around you. Walls are no certain defence against demons, only spells.

  'And last, wherever you stand, walk, cast or rest, there will be an elf watching over you. An elf who will stand against the demon that comes for you and who will protect you. In this we are stronger and you need not fear otherwise. We will never desert you.

  'We leave at first light tomorrow. Be ready.'

  Rebraal started at the unexpected sound he heard. They were clapping him.

  Hirad had his back to a tree, knees pulled up to his chest and his arms around them, hands locked in front. His sword leant sheathed against the trunk. Around him, an early leaf-fall was testament to the cold that die demons had brought to Balaia. They had risked a fire to cook by when the night closed in but it was long dead now and in these hours before dawn the world was frosty and quiet. Hirad felt

  exhausted. His sleep had been broken first by Sha-Kaan and subsequently by the force he assumed was Ilkar, still trying without success to contact him.

  And now he was awake on the dawn watch and looking over his sleeping friends, the two Protectors, Kas and Ark, and the quiet but determined elf, Eilaan. None of them slept undisturbed. Thraun chased the demons of his past, his body twitching and his mouth moving, murmuring. And Erienne, he knew, was occasionally found by Cleress despite the huge distance and the ageing elf s condition. Right now, she was somewhere to the left, having woken suddenly.

  He had asked her to call his name regularly but she hadn't. In the end, she wasn't gone long and he felt her hand on his shoulder as she eased herself down to sit beside him.

  'So I'm not the only one hearing voices tonight, eh?' said Hirad softly.

  Erienne linked her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder.

  'She didn't say much. She doesn't have the strength, poor woman.'

  'Does she help you?'

  'What can she really do? She speaks the right words when I can hear them but I'm not skilled enough to reply over this distance so it's all rather one-way.' She picked her head up. 'Look, Hirad, sorry about Blackthorne, the way I behaved I mean.'

  'Erienne, you never have anything to apologise t
o me or to any of us for. All I care about is that you're feeling more comfortable now.'

  'I'm not sure I am, that's the trouble. It isn't the One magic itself, because in theory I can perform the castings. But this isn't like casting an Ice Wind or putting up a HardShield. Failing in those is one thing, failing to strip the mana shell from demons would be fatal for all of us. It weighs on me.'

  Hirad thought to reply immediately but some words from The Unknown replayed in his mind and he paused before saying something different.

  'We can't help you with your power, I know that and I won't pretend to understand die pressures it places you under. But remember how hard we've worked on fighting assuming your casting isn't there to aid us. Keep that with you because it means we can

  survive if you're having a problem. You are the most potent weapon we possess but you aren't the only one. We're all still here.'

  Erienne chuckled. 'How do you do that?'

  'Do what?'

  'Say something patronising and belittling and make it sound like comfort and support.'

  'Because that's what it is supposed to be.'

  'And there's my answer.' She pulled at his arm with hers. 'Tell me about your voices. Are you really sure it's Ilkar? I mean, that's farfetched even for you.'

  Hirad shrugged. 'Oh, I don't know. I've sat here tonight wondering if it's all because I so want to believe he's still here in some way that I've created the whole thing.'

  'And what did you conclude?'

  'That it's all too coincidental. This has happened only since the demons began to flood mana into Balaia, if Blackthornc's timings are right. But more than all that, it just feels like him. I can't explain it. I've heard no words. It's all just fuzz and mist. But you know when you can smell someone on the clothes they've worn? It's like that, only inside my head. I just wish I could make it clearer.'

  Erienne moved so that she faced him and laid her forearms on his knees.

  'Go with it,' she said. 'Try not to fight it or force it. Let it drive you on. If that's what means you fight harder, then use it.'

  'I'll try.'

  'But it's hard, isn't it? Having something inside you that you want but can't use. I know a little about that.'

  'I guess you do.' Hirad smiled. 'Now if you'll take my advice, you'll get your head down. Auum could be back any time from tomorrow and then this little oasis of calm is gone for ever and it's fight and fear all the way.'

  'But just one more time. Then we can go back to being bored.'

  'Do you really believe that?'

  'What do you think?' Erienne leant in and kissed his cheek. 'Goodnight, Hirad.'

  Chapter 25

  The cursyrd were waiting for them before the first wagon was hitched to its nervous horse. Since they'd begun loading the fifteen wagons, some little more than makeshift covered trailers, in the dead of night the enemy had been preparing. Auum knew they would. For him, it had always been a question of superior tactics come first light.

  But for the humans and those Al-Arynaar who hadn't listened to everything said at the briefing, the sight had to be truly terrifying. Reavers swarmed the shell, anticipating the moment it was dispersed. They thronged the area in front of the main gate, emitting a staggering kaleidoscope of colours. They hovered above every roadblock, herding slaves into the road as human barricades. And from their mouths came a cacophony of sound that echoed against the buildings of the college and high into the air, sending shivers through the bravest soul.

  'I want runners either side of each horse!' shouted Rebraal. 'Drivers let's mount up and assemble in the courtyard. Free mages, to your wagons. And watch those borders. Move!'

  Auum's breath clouded in the cold air, mixing with that of around one hundred and eighty mages and two hundred and twenty Al-Arynaar warriors, college guard and the free Julatsans. He turned a full circle. Blinkered horses were goaded from the stables and out into the arena. Two to a wagon, they were skittish and either side of their heads elves stood and whispered soothing words, stroking cheeks and necks.

  In front of the first clutch of five wagons, thirty Al-Arynaar mages gathered with fifty warriors. They were the vanguard, tasked to clear the path for the first wagons and if they could, blast a hole through the mass of cursyrd gathered beyond the gates. In each of the

  wagons, which would go through the gates two abreast, six human mages and six warriors, human and elven. For them, the task was to set up the forward ColdRoom shell immediately they left the protection of the college. The wagons would be flanked by elven warriors and mages, some of whom were already perched atop the wagons themselves against attack from the sky.

  Behind this first wave would come two others made up almost identically. The few spare horses were tethered to wagons in the second wave. Again they were blinkered and near them would run elves ready to cut them free should they threaten to bolt.

  They had done everything they could. Auum was as satisfied as he could be. He and the Tai would bring up the rear because there they perceived lay the greatest immediate risk of losing mages. Right now, heavily guarded in cellars in the college, the ColdRoom casters still held the barrier strong. They would have to be moved.

  He understood it was the nature of the casting that three mages were needed for each one to maintain its core strength. Under normal circumstances, if any of this could be considered normal, mages coming to take over the casting would feed into the same construct, thereby maintaining a seamless shell. Moving all three would inevitably lead to the spell collapsing.

  They approached the moment of greatest danger. In five locations around the college, ColdRoom trios were waiting to move. In order, they would disperse their spells and run to their designated wagon, flanked by Al-Arynaar. For three of the trios, the problem wasn't too great. Their exits were clean, the wagons parked close and they could disperse their castings without risk to any but themselves. When those parts of the college were cleared, they could be moved and the cursyrd could take the territory.

  For the remaining two, the situation was entirely different. Their castings covered the courtyard and main gates. And because those mages in wagons inside the courtyard were unable to cast until they could touch the mana and form new constructs, there would be a time, short but telling, when there was no cover. Everyone was aware of it and so were the cursyrd. It was what they were waiting for.

  Auum waited. Three times he was given the signal that areas of the college were clear and three times ColdRooms were dispersed

  and their casters ran hard to wagons beneath the remaining shell. First went the refectory and lecture theatre area; second, the Heart and library; third, the personal chambers, rooms and offices. The cursyrd didn't attempt to chase the casters. They didn't have to. A better chance was coming.

  Three wagons lined up, making their part of the third wave. Two remained empty, surrounded by Al-Arynaar. They were placed centrally in the courtyard away from obvious casting points. Dila'heth was of the opinion that the cursyrd knew where the casters were located but anything that threw them off the scent for any time at all was crucial.

  Cursyrd flowed into the parts of the college so recently vacated. The ColdRoom constructs now grounded right at the edges of the courtyard itself and they clustered around, taunting, promising death. The reavers strutted around their new domain, displaying colours from deep green through purples and blues to jet black. Hundreds of a tiny dark grey strain flittered overhead, cluttering. These were no real danger alone but their claws would be sharp and their touch cold. Enough could overwhelm man or elf. And way overhead, the master strain hovered on their tentacles, directing their minions. In all, the Julatsan escapees had to be outnumbered at least ten to one right here.

  'Rebraal!' called Auum. 'Prepare them!'

  The cacophony from the demons rose to a deafening level. Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen switched to sign language to make themselves understood. Words were whispered into the ears of wagon drivers, horses and the few human swordsmen who refused to
be placed in wagons for the escape.

  Auum heard a demon calling Rebraal's name. He swung round and strode to the border of the shell. There it stood, taller than he, wings furled at its back, long face glaring in, a smile on its lipless mouth, its colour shifting grey to green.

  'Rebraal,' it cried in a poor impersonation of Auum's pronunciation. 'You will be first. Your soul will be mine. Step to me, come closer.'

  It beckoned at Rebraal who surely could not hear it, its arms piercing the ColdRoom shell as it did so. Auum faced it until it focused on him.

  'And you, elf, will not stop us,' it hissed. 'Come, surrender to me. Let us touch and you will know-'

  Auum's hands flashed out and he caught the demon's wrists, dragging it inside the shell. It squealed and broke free but stumbled. Auum pounced on its chest, swept a short sword from its scabbard and pinioned one arm to the dirt. It screamed.

  'Be careful what you wish for,' he said.

  The dagger in his other hand stabbed deep into the pit of its arm. Its eyes widened in fear. It spasmed and lay still. Auum retrieved both his weapons and swung back to the shell's edge, moving fluidly to his feet.

  'Shorth will take you all.'

  He backed away a few paces, Duele and Evunn at his shoulders.

  'We are prepared,' said Duele.

  'Then we will pray.'

  The Tai dropped to its knees. Auum led the short prayer that was taken up by every elf in the courtyard. With one voice they spoke, their ancient words stilling even the calls and shrill of the cursyrd.

  'With our breath, Yniss, we are yours. With our bodies, Tual, we are yours. With our souls, Shorth, we are yours. Guide us, keep us and bless us as we do your work. Let it be so.'

  Auum brought the Tai to its feet.

  'Tai, we move.'

  The TaiGethen cell jogged back to the centre of the courtyard in between the two wagons waiting for their casting trios. The cursyrd found their voices once more. Howls, shrieks, calls and cries battering on the ears, etching on the mind, scratching at courage and fortitude. Auum commended his life to Yniss a final time and nodded at Rebraal.

 

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