'I am sorry,' said Selik. 'Fortunately, I am the right man to talk to about righting college crimes.'
Yron managed a smile. 'You have no conception of the scale of what you have done by stopping me.'
'Perhaps you'd care to enlighten me.'
Yron shifted, wondering what he should say.
'How much do you want to damage Xetesk's ambitions?'
Selik frowned. 'There is not enough time in a day to explain. Why?'
'And how much do you want to live?'
'There's much more work to be done,' evaded Selik. 'And I do hope there's a reason for these questions.'
'Well, you have the tools to do both and neither right here,' said Yron.
Selik cleared his throat. 'The ice is thin beneath your feet, Captain. '
'Oh really? I thought it had already cracked and you were merely holding me above the drop.'
Selik waved a hand impatiently. 'What is this?' He turned the thumb over in his hands.
'I had no idea you were interested in archaeology.'
Selik sighed. 'I can make this very painful for you,' he said without looking up. 'But I had hoped it wouldn't be necessary.'
It was Selik's casual attitude that told Yron the Black Wing would torture the information from him. And if he was going to die, it might as well be on his terms. He was not afraid to die. Nor was he afraid of pain but he'd wanted to resist Selik and had tested his narrow limits. But as he sat there, aware of his own unpleasant smell mixing with the stale sweat and ale of the room and those around him, he asked himself what it was he was so desperate to keep from Selik.
And he couldn't think of a single thing. He relaxed.
'I'd talk easier over a hot drink,' he said.
Selik shrugged and nodded at one of his men.
'And for me too.'
'Thank you,' said Yron.
'Now, Captain,' said Selik. 'Time for you to begin.'
'Well, Selik, the summary is this. What you have in your hand there is part of the thumb from the statue of Yniss that stands in the Aryndeneth temple on Calaius. Its separation from the statue has unleashed a plague which threatens to wipe out the entire elven nation. I was taking it back. You must do the same. If you do you'll gain a very powerful ally. If you don't they'll kill you. All of you.' He leaned back. 'I can see you don't believe me but I assure you it's true, if a little difficult to grasp that something so small could cause something so awful. So, ask me what you want and I'll tell you all I can.'
Selik asked and Yron told him. Everything. Barely rested but driven by a desperate need, The Raven rode from their forward camp in the dead of night, allowing their horses to pick careful routes through the tussocks of grass, moss-covered rocks and bracken thickets of their route back to the south-west side of Xetesk. During their rest, another dozen Al-Arynaar had succumbed to the Elfsorrow, as had three TaiGethen, one of them Marack, who had already seen the rest of her Tai cell die. To her it had been a release from grief.
A Communion between Dordovan and Lysternan mages eased their passage between the two battle fronts and on towards the no-man's-land to the south and west, which was still nominally controlled by Xetesk but under pressure from the Black Wing force camped a few miles south.
The Raven, with their quartet of elven guests clinging unhappily to the saddles of their cantering horses, had made good progress through the latter half of the night, and as dawn brightened the sky, the three mages took to the air.
The decision had been made to cover the ground in a wide arc and track back along the most likely route Merke's cell would have taken on leaving Xetesk. There was some risk attached to the tactic as Xeteskian mage-defender trios were out looking for the same quarry. Ilkar was the southernmost, Denser nearest to the walls of Xetesk but a good four miles distant, with Erienne in between them, slightly ahead of both and with a brief to look as much into the sky ahead as at the ground below her.
They flew a mile ahead of The Raven, who split as necessary to check knots of trees, heavy bushes and areas of taller bracken. With the horses going at little more than a trot, Auum and his Tai had taken the chance to dismount and track. But for hour after hour there was no sign.
From where he flew some fifty feet from the ground, Denser could see the plains south of Xetesk stretched out before him. Several miles ahead – it was difficult to guess exactly how many – he could see the smoke from dozens of fires and the off-white of tent canvas that must be the Black Wing camp.
It was large and within half a day's march of the walls of Xetesk but Denser still didn't feel they presented a threat. With no magic in their ranks they were terribly vulnerable to spell attack, and that was what would pour from the city walls should they approach too close. No doubt the Black Wings had already been scouted from ground and air and Xetesk was happy they could be contained. All that would worry them would be the drain on their mage resources.
Xetesk itself was wreathed in a heavy mist. It was a still morning and the mist wouldn't lift too quickly. Behind them the battle had already been renewed, while ahead the Black Wings seemed in no particular hurry. Of the Xeteskian hunters, there was currently no sign.
He cruised over a dozen hues of green empty but for birds, a rabbit warren and a wandering fox on the trail of prey. Over pockets of mist in dips and shallow valleys. Nothing. Glancing behind, he saw the rest of The Raven trailing them and the specks that had to be the TaiGethen a little further in advance, tracing a cross pattern as they studied the ground.
A sudden rattle of wings and the harsh calls of birds as they took flight caught Denser's attention. Away to his right, crows and seagulls rose out of a misty hollow on the plain, spooked by something. Probably that fox. Denser watched as the crows flew back down in ones and twos while the seagulls circled, waiting their chance. Curious, Denser drifted across and closer to the ground, the birds around him paying little heed, their attention focussed on whatever carrion lay hidden by the mist.
He overflew the area, hearing the irritated bark of a fox or wild dog and a scuffling on the ground as he approached. Just a few feet above the ground and what lay beneath the calf-deep mist revealed itself. A glint of metal, hair waving in the wind, a broken bow standing half proud from the ground, an empty face with dead eyes pecked out.
Denser landed. This close, the mist was thin enough to see through. He checked the bodies quickly, saw Black Wing tattoos on the necks of every dead man and found the bodies of three elves. Auum was not going to be happy. Of Yron, though, there was no sign, but here is where the hunt would truly start.
He took off again, signalled The Raven and waited, hovering above the corpses, seeing his friends galloping and flying towards him, the TaiGethen sprinting at remarkable speed. With them all nearing, he landed again and dismissed the wings, anxious to maintain as much stamina as he could. He stepped away from the scene and let the experts come in to assess what had gone on. Thraun, Ren and the TaiGethen examined the bodies and the area around them, occasionally kneeling to check a print in the grass or standing to talk and point.
Quickly, with Ren translating, there was consensus.
'The Black Wing riders came in from the south. Twenty, judging by the density of prints and the tracks we've found,' said Ren. 'Can't tell why a fight started but the TaiGethen caused mayhem when you consider where the Black Wing bodies have fallen. The survivors rode off back the way they came. We have to presume they took Yron with them. None of these dead have the thumb.'
'Well let's pray he still has it. How long ago did this happen?' asked The Unknown.
'A day, day and a half at the most. The Tai can track them.'
Denser looked at the TaiGethen and Rebraal. They had moved their dead from the mist and laid them out beneath the warming sun. Auum was crouched at their heads, leading his Tai in prayer. The Raven fell silent out of respect, heads bowed as the mist gradually cleared, Auum's low voice in their ears, his tone reverential.