Elfsorrow

Another short elven conversation.

'He says the forest will kill you.'

'I know I speak for us all when I say this. We want to help. We have to get mages back to Balaia quickly so anything we can do to speed that, to get the elves to trust us, we will do. And does he really have a choice? Right now, we're all he's got and, Gods burning, one of us is his brother.'

Erienne could feel the passion in Denser. It was a belief she knew well. She only hoped Rebraal saw it too. She watched Ren talk to him, saw him respond while looking over her shoulder at Denser. He shrugged, his expression hardened but he nodded.

'So we're all right by him now, are we?' Denser was terse.

'No,' said Ren. 'You're here, that's all. The Raven. He knows that he needs all the help he can get. Ilkar is the key. Without him, you would not be allowed to travel with him.'

Erienne felt a crawling sensation across her chest. 'Just what is it that's so wrong he thinks us worth risking?'

'Rebraal knows what's causing this. He's studied the texts at the temple. He's dedicated his life to preserving the harmony.'

'And?' pushed Denser.

'Rebraal says the harmony has been broken. That the strangers who took the temple have done it, but he doesn't know how. That's why we have to go there. Because you can't cure this sickness with magic or herbs, and unless harmony is restored the elves will die.'

Erienne frowned. 'Which elves?'

'All of us.' Aeb was unsettled. Protectors were used to being alone, travelling with their Given Xeteskian mage. But in times of conflict the Soul Tank, deep in the catacombs of Xetesk, was always troubled. The souls of those Protectors who could not be physically together communicated their thoughts and their fears for one another. Aeb had been hearing much and the anxiety was rising.

Aeb's position was unique. Officially he was the Given of Denser, the Dawnthief mage. A high honour in itself. But in reality he was more the defender of Sol, The Unknown Warrior, the only man to have been a Protector and returned from the calling, his soul repatriated to his body.

If Protectors could genuinely feel pride, then Aeb would have been proud. But it didn't change the fact that he could hear the agitation of the souls of his brothers in his head. They weren't scared. They were bred to fight and defend. But when they were split they were inevitably weakened, and so anxiety filtered across the Soul Tank.

Aeb had been sitting silent in his room, having bathed his face and let the air play across his maskless features in the dark, calming those he could and listening to the thoughts of others. But now, with the voices still whispering in his head – he could never shut them out and would never want to – he strapped the mask back over his face, ignoring the discomfort, and went to find Sol.

The Unknown Warrior was standing alone but turned when the Protector approached.

'Aeb,' said The Unknown, nodding to him.

Aeb could see immediately that he could sense something. It had been a mystery long cherished in the Soul Tank. How Sol, with his soul in his body and not in contact with his Protector brothers any more, could still sense them all and pick up on feelings, though not fully grasp them. It gave them hope that should they ever be released from thrall they would still be joined in some indelible way. It was what they prayed for.

'I apologise for disturbing you.'

The Unknown shook his head. 'You are still close to me,' he said. 'And something's worried you. You should be at rest.'

'Yes.'

'Then speak freely. Denser has granted you that freedom gladly.'

'It is still difficult,' he said. 'All these years…'

'You've heard something in the Soul Tank,' guessed The Unknown.

'Yes,' said Aeb. 'It is not information I can volunteer, Sol. You know the strictures of the calling.'

'But you cannot knowingly lie to a direct question from your Given,' said Denser, joining them. 'Sorry to overhear.'

Aeb swung to face the mage.

'So ask,' said The Unknown.

'Aeb, take The Unknown's questions as coming from me. Answer us both,' said Denser.

'Yes.'

Denser looked across at The Unknown to speak.

'The Protectors are engaged in combat?'

'Yes.'

'Where?'

'Arlen.'

'And Xetesk are in control of the town?'

'Yes.'

'How far have the Dordovan forces been pushed back?'

'They have been eliminated.'

'What?' The Unknown gaped and looked across at Denser.

'Were they given the option of surrender?' asked the mage.

'No.'

'And the Protectors were ordered to kill them all?'

'All that survived the magical attack. Cavalry were despatched to deal with outlying forces.'

The Unknown and Denser exchanged another glance. Aeb was comforted by it, seeing in their expressions a reflection of his own unease. He would relay this to his brothers later.

'Describe the spell and its effect,' ordered Denser.

Aeb paused, consulting with the Soul Tank.

'A cooperative FlameOrb. Mages called it a FireGlobe. Large area effect. It destroyed the north-western quarter of Arlen. At its splash point, the heat is still too great to bear, even after a day.'

The Unknown cursed. 'They're clearing a path,' he said. 'And riding roughshod over the rules of engagement. It'll escalate the conflict.'

'Clearing a path for who?' asked Denser.

'The mage researchers and my brothers on Herendeneth,' said Aeb immediately. 'They will return to Balaia soon.'

'So,' said Denser, staring at The Unknown. 'Which of us gets to tell Hirad that Xetesk has no intention of helping his dragons?'

The Unknown raised his eyebrows and walked back into the house.

Chapter 23

Ben-Foran was asleep. It was born of exhaustion, both mental and physical, and the knowledge that Yron wanted more of the same from him the next day. For the Captain himself though, sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. He wasn't sure how long they'd clung to the log. Two hours, maybe more. All he knew was that when the tributary eventually emptied out into the River Shorth, he'd never been so glad to feel the ground beneath his feet.

They'd been swept through gorge after gorge, across rapids, their bodies grazing rock and sandbar, through swirling currents and over one mercifully low waterfall. Yron's only consolation during the whole bruising ride – apart from the knowledge that they were putting good distance between themselves and the elven hunters – was that no serious predator could be after them.

And the whole time Ben hadn't said a word, just clung on to the log, keeping his head above water and his legs stretched out behind him as well as he could. His teeth had chattered from chill and fear but he hadn't complained. And even though the journey must have drained every ounce of energy from his body, as it had from Yron, when the waters suddenly slackened and they joined the two-hundred-yard width of the Shorth, it was Ben who had kicked for the bank harder.

They had barely stopped even then until, with the evening beginning to close in and the light fading fast, they sought a place to rest. Yron hadn't liked the look of the forest where they'd landed. It was very dense and heavy, the ground rising sharply away, and neither he nor Ben wanted to climb. So they'd walked along in the shallows, mindful of crocodiles but seeing none except those basking on the mud of the opposite bank.

With night almost upon them and an evening deluge keeping them drenched, they'd come to a section of bank where rock rose sheer from the water to a height of some two hundred feet. Opposite, the forest tumbled away up a long, gentle and beautiful slope, revealing the full glory of the rainforest canopy. Thousands of birds flocked above it, filling the air with their cries, while closer to the bank the trees rustled with a troop of monkeys, on their way to a new feeding ground.