'When you start, keep running, Captain. I have to stop to cast then I'll be right behind you.'
Yron nodded. He didn't want to leave Erys but there was no choice. 'Don't get caught,' he said. 'Ready? Let's go.'
The two men sprinted into the yard and had covered ten yards before the shouts went up. Left and right, soldiers ran in to cut them off. Yron pushed harder. Crossbow bolts skipped off the ground at his feet. He heard Erys slide to a stop.
'Good luck,' he breathed and, giving Erys clear sight of the door, ran on.
The air was full of torchlight and shouts for him to stop. Behind him, he heard Erys's command word, felt the shadow of the spell rush past him and saw the postern gate buckle outwards, hearing timbers creak and snap. He glanced over his shoulder, saw the mage surge to his feet and chase after him.
Left and right, his former colleagues closed in, yelling warnings, urging him to give himself up. Fresher and mostly younger, they were gaining fast, and he knew if he stopped at the gate he'd be caught. Already feeling the pain he was about to experience, he ate up the last few yards and shoulder-charged the spell-weakened iron-bound oak gate.
As he struck he didn't think it would give, but, with the crack of splitting timber, the gate gave way and he sprawled out into the streets of Xetesk. His shoulder shrieked in pain as he dragged himself to his feet, sparing a glance back inside.
'Come on, Erys!' he shouted.
The mage was running hard, head down, legs and arms pumping. Framed in the gate arch he seemed so close to freedom. But from the side, a soldier rushed in, swung his sword and caught Erys a glancing blow across the shoulder. Yron saw the blood spray and Erys tumble heavily onto the cobbles before an arrow whipping past his head brought him back to himself and he tore off into the maze of roads, alleys and passages that made up Xetesk's artisans' quarter, cursing all the way. Merke and her Tai were deep inside Xetesk. They and seven other TaiGethen cells were scouting the city at night, looking for information, looking for weaknesses but above all looking for a way into the Dark College itself. For all the Xeteskian soldiers and mages marching to battle the other colleges, the walls, the Protectors and their watchers, the TaiGethen had pierced the city defences easily enough, scaling the walls in four places and scattering into the night.
Three cells were combing residential areas, two were around the markets and three studied the college itself, including Auum's. But for once he had not chosen the right place. From where Merke, Inell and Vaart were hidden, overlooking one of the gates of the college, they had seen an extraordinary sight.
Right before them, a side gate had buckled. Heartbeats later, a man had crashed through, rolling over, dragging himself to his feet and running from the college, heading down an alley not twenty yards from them. They waited for the pursuit and it duly came: men with swords and the masked Protectors, splitting into groups of three, four and five, scattering into the blank shadows of the warehouses and stinking foundries. Some ran straight past them, others took the alley their quarry had used.
Merke looked at her Tai. Vaart shrugged.
'The one running is more likely an ally than an enemy.'
'It'll do as a reason for now,' said Merke.
The Tai moved, ghosts over the ground, unslinging bows, un-snapping jaqrui pouches and scabbard covers. Merke was ahead, Inell and Vaart left and right, emerging from the alley where they'd watched it all unfold, across the front of a warehouse and down its far side.
The blank walls of its neighbour were no more than fifteen feet away, sheer sides rising up better than thirty feet to angled tiled roofs. They hemmed in the TaiGethen like no rainforest ever could, the smells of city life mixing with the drab buildings to produce a place Merke couldn't believe any sane man would want to live. But live here they did. And die.
Merke whispered over the ground, sword and jaqrui ready, bows flanking her. Ahead, she could make out the figures of four men hurrying down the alley. They turned left and disappeared. She heard calls and shouts and upped her pace, rounding the corner. It led to a dead end and a man trapped against a high stone wall.
He was facing the quartet like a warrior, upright, with his axe ready as they approached him, two of them in masks, one weaponless, the other with a crossbow. They were speaking to him and he was shaking his head.
'Left and right,' she whispered.
Arrows flew, punching through the necks of the masked men, who fell without a sound. Her jaqrui wailed away, its keening sound setting roosting birds to flight. The weaponless man, a mage, turned in time to see it flash into the bridge of his nose. He screamed and fell.
Taking his chance, the hunted man leaped forward, one arm hanging limp, the other holding his axe effectively enough. Panicked, the crossbowman fired, taking him in the thigh, but he came on, blade smashing into the man's face around his mouth, splitting the base of his skull and sending him crashing against a wall to slide dead to the ground.
He ignored the corpse and sized up the Tai, Merke a little confused at his reaction. There seemed to be no relief that he had been saved, only a sort of weary resignation. He stooped, wiped his blade clean and resheathed the weapon in a gaudy impractical-looking holster and held out his hands in a gesture of peace.
Merke walked forward, her Tai with bows ready and tensed.
'Please,' he said in serviceable elvish. 'I have what you need. Let me help you.'
'Then we will take it from you,' said Merke. 'Give me the thumb. No stranger should carry a shard of Yniss. You cannot help us.'
The man nodded and dug in a pocket, producing the statue fragment. Beside her, Vaart and Inell dropped to their knees in prayer. The stranger held out the piece reverently. Merke took it, kissed it and offered prayers that it had been returned.
'It is ours once more,' she said. 'Harmony will be restored.'
She turned and gestured her Tai to rise, catching Vaart's eye. He nodded minutely and she looked back over her shoulder.
'You are hunted here,' she said to the man.
'Yes,' he said. 'I am…' He struggled for the word. 'Unpopular.'
Merke smiled briefly. 'You have done us a great service. We will take you out of here.'
'Thank you,' he said.
She shrugged. 'Auum will want to know why. Follow. Do not tire. We will not wait.'
Chapter 43
'My Lord, please calm down,' said Ranyl.
'I can't think of a single reason why.' Dystran nursed his cheek, feeling the tender bruising that covered it for the most part.
'He will be found,' said Ranyl. 'But you have other matters to attend to urgently.'
'Excuse me, dear friend,' said Dystran, 'but I do not. In case it escaped your attention, that bastard marched right into my bedroom and all the while my Protectors, whom I mistakenly assumed had no option but to protect me, were staring at their boots.'
'My Lord, it isn't-'
'I could have been killed!' Dystran heaved himself from his chair by the study fire, walked past the nervously fidgeting Ranyl and went to the windows to look out at dawn breaking over Xetesk. 'Gods burning, I know Lords of the Mount have been assassinated in the past but never in the central Tower bedroom. That is not the sort of history I was planning on making.'
'My Lord, you were in no danger of death,' said Ranyl.
'Oh, I am so relieved. Just a beating, then,' said Dystran, turning back into the room. 'And how did you come by that knowledge? The Protectors tell you?'
Ranyl nodded. 'We are undertaking a thorough investigation.'
'Hold on. Are you telling me that Xeteskian Protectors were complicit in the theft?' Dystran frowned. 'Is that possible? How did Yron gain such influence?'
'Not Yron. He was merely the beneficiary of arrangements made for others.'