Xye complied. A man died.
Aeb felt the calm detachment of imminent victory. Pulsing commands left and right, he brought the Protectors in, allowing any wounded, and there were precious few, to fall back as the ring tightened. Seeing they were trapped, the Dordovan voices rose further, their blows came in harder and wilder, and their defensive formation buckled and heaved. Although noise flowed around and over Aeb, he concentrated on the pulsed messages in his mind, leaving the desperation to those he faced.
He buried his axe in the neck of a Dordovan, the man grasping at the weapon as he fell. Aeb let it go, retaining his balance and blocking high with his blade as directed by the brother behind him. He turned his attention on the astonished enemy, smashed a fist into his mouth and nose, knocking him back before reversing his blade across his chest.
The sword screamed against chain mail ringlets, sending sparks flying and knocking the wind out of the man. He was in no state to defend the next strike which tore out his throat, spattering gore on Aeb's mask. He shook his head to clear the drips over his eye slits.
No one lives. No one goes home, he pulsed.
We will be victorious. We are one.
The Protectors drove on, their weapons flashing dully under the clouded sky as their enemy's torches sputtered to extinction on the muddy ground. The screams of the hapless Dordovans diminished as they fell. One threw down his weapon in a gesture of surrender. Xye beheaded him in the next heartbeat.
And so it was over. Aeb's final Dordovan took a blow through his gut and he and half a dozen comrades breathed their last.
We are one.
We are victorious.
Report, pulsed Aeb.
Three Protectors were down. Twenty-one had cuts, of which twelve would not fight again that night. Aeb felt a surge of annoyance. Somewhere, their discipline had failed them.
No, pulsed Xye. The cornered fight like two men. Desperation breeds strength in the dying.
Then we assumed too much. Learn, brothers, learn.
We are one.
Aeb retrieved his axe and cleaned the blades of both his weapons on the clothes of the fallen, before handing them to Xye to replace in their back mounts, a favour he reciprocated. Stooping and tearing a length of cleaner cloth from a Dordovan shirt, he wiped over his mask and shoulders, turning to greet the approaching Sytkan.
'I would say congratulations but it seems a heartless statement in the face of such slaughter.'
'We are victorious,' said Aeb.
'So I can see,' said Sytkan, surveying the carnage with obvious disgust. 'Surely they tried to surrender at some stage. Report.'
'Prisoners are a threat,' said Aeb.
'And that's it?'
'We have no capacity to hold prisoners,' said Aeb.
The mage sighed. 'No, I suppose not. Retrieve any masks and have any wounded report to a mage. Leave any that can't run and form up. The battle is not over. Problems?'
'None. We will return this way?'
'Of course. Let's go, Aeb.'
The Protector chosen issued the orders and soon the army ran on into Arlen.
Darrick turned his mount and faced his cavalry, aware that whatever he said would carry to Selik too. It couldn't be helped. His men stood expectant, quiet, their horses calm, flanks steaming in the pale light of the lanterns and torches on ship and in hand. Earl Arlen would doubtless be here before long but it wasn't him Darrick feared. It was the Protectors. He hadn't let it show but The Unknown's words had struck home. He didn't want to be seen as a coward. He nodded to Izack.
'General speaking!' shouted the commander. The silence became deeper. Darrick saw Selik saunter back on to the deck of the Ocean Elm.
'I am surprised, disappointed and disgusted to confirm that the Dordovans behind me are in full support of the Black Wings on the ship to my right.' He paused as a ripple ran through the company. He held up a hand and continued.
'As you are aware, our Council has agreed to support the Dordovan Council in its efforts to secure the child and return her to safe keeping. But clearly the desire has changed and instead the Dordovans have willingly delivered the child's mother, a Dordovan herself, into the hands of the Witch Hunters.
'We are not, therefore, being invited to retake the ship, and indeed our task has become one of defence of the vessel and its current incumbents.' Another pause but this time there was no sound. Izack would know what was coming. For many of the rest it was a hammer blow.
'I cannot speak for any of you on this because it is for the individual consciences of you all. You know what is happening to Balaia; the elements batter us and it is magic that drives them. We all accept that this must stop but the method is apparently not so clear.
'Here you face Dordover. Nominally our ally. Approaching are the Protectors, and Xetesk too has designs that we are, again nominally, opposed to.
'I say again, look to your morals and your consciences, think of your families and all that is important to you before deciding your actions. For myself, I cannot and will not countenance or support the scum aboard that vessel. I therefore resign my commission, my Generalship and my command of this cavalry and withdraw my support for the actions of the Lystenan and Dordovan Colleges. This makes me a traitor. Any of you that would arrest me now, I will make no protest. If not, I take my own path. Izack, you're in charge.'
Darrick put his heels to his horse and rode from the growing tumult, the tears already rolling down his cheeks.
'You up to this, Unknown?' asked Hirad as they ran for the dock-side.
'What?' The Unknown frowned.
'You know, dodgy sword, no armour. Hope you're feeling quick.'
'I'll get by. Just you mind your new pets.'
Hirad smiled. The wolves loped easily along beside him, while The Unknown ran the other side, with the two mages a pair behind them. The Raven could see the dock ahead as they came alongside the timber yard.
'I'll let Thraun know you called him that.'
'Fluent in wolfish, are you?' The Unknown grimaced suddenly and put a hand to his head. 'Gods, it's started.'
'Protectors?'
'Like echoes of war in my head. They're fighting,' affirmed The Unknown.
'Must be outside the town or we'd be hearing it. Go right at the dockside,' said Hirad.
The Unknown nodded and led The Raven around the corner. The wind was harsh and cold off the lake and the rain, which had begun falling as little more than a blown mist, was now heavy and well set. The Unknown had to be cold but he didn't show it. Hirad was feeling the chill across his face and wasn't looking forward to the sweat freezing on his body when they stopped. If they stopped.
No, when they stopped. In front of them was a mass of cavalry no further than a hundred yards distant. They were fanned out in front of what had to be the Ocean Elm and beyond them, dozens more torches flickering in the downpour indicated another force they couldn't really make out.
'That's Darrick's lot in front of us,' said The Unknown as they dived into shadow in the lee of the timber yard as much for shelter as obscurement.
'Is he defending that ship?' asked Hirad, peering out.
'Either that or stopping anyone else getting on,' said Ilkar. 'I can see him. He's addressing his men and judging by their reactions, they're not liking what they're hearing.'
Hirad watched Thraun and the pack. Initially, they'd run on but turned as The Raven stopped and now Thraun was padding in a loose circle around the pack, all of whom were on their feet, eyes fixed on the mass of horseflesh ahead of them.
'So what now? The wolves are getting edgy.'
'I can't understand why you brought them, Hirad,' said Denser.
'Tell you what, Xetesk man, you tell them not to come and see how far you get.'
'Quiet, you two,' said The Unknown. 'Save your bickering for later. We have to get to Darrick and warn him what's coming in. Let the Dordovans take the hit as I suspect they already have outside the town. Trouble is, I think that's Dordovan cavalry behind him and I think they'll be even less pleased to see us.'