'Get out to the margins!' he yelled, hurdling a fire pit and racing out to where the green Lysternan mana fires were burning tents and helpless soldiers. 'Get the cavalry mounted. What did I bloody tell you!'
So quick, so incisive, exactly as he had warned. While his mages were preparing shield defence and attack, he heard the thundering of hooves.
'To arms!' he hollered. 'Where was my fucking perimeter!'
He was joined by some of the quicker minds and limbs. Ahead of him, all was in disarray. He could see six tents on fire, men running in every direction, too many straight towards him.
'Get back. Think it's over?'
And in they came, forty-plus horses and riders in close form, undoubtedly under a defensive shield. It would be a single thrust, just like he'd said. Izack wasn't amongst them, he saw that immediately, but they didn't need him. They rode thirty strides into his camp, chopping down any one that got in their way, those mages not involved in the shield dropping HotRain and scattering men and precious equipment with ForceCones. Torches in the hands of half the riders flipped away, setting more tents and wagons on fire.
They had turned and begun to ride out before the first spell lit up their shield and the first arrows flew in. That brought down one man. One. His own cavalry galloped around to his right, setting off in pursuit. They wouldn't catch them. They had a hundred and fifty yards and it was more than they needed. At least it would keep them from another attack. Not that Chandyr thought they planned one.
He stopped running and slammed his sword flat on to the ground.
'Shit!'
He rubbed his hands across his face and set them on his hips, his face burning with an anger he had scarcely felt in his life before. All around him, the bedlam was in full flow. Injured men were being helped away, orders were being called to get the fires out and the cries of the dying echoed into a dark sky just edging with first light.
A lieutenant, smeared with soot and with a livid wound across his cheek ran up, saluting smartly, his expression betraying his apprehension. Chandyr glared at him.
'Don't try and make it sound good,' he said. 'This is a calamity that could have been avoided had any of you idiots listened to a damn word I said. Just report.'
'We didn't see them,' he replied, voice shaking. 'The perimeter was set but they were on us from the dark.'
'Which way were they looking, eh?' snapped Chandyr. 'There is no way those spells could have reached our tents without the mages being inside the perimeter. That is why I set it where I did. You're telling me you didn't see them? None of you? Where was the alarm, tell me that?' He stepped in very close. 'Men have died because you were not watching. You let your guard slip and the men under your command were either slacking or sleeping.
'You will consider yourself relieved of your duties. Join your column when we march. I'll be promoting your sergeant. Dismissed.'
'Sir.'
Chandyr turned to face the rest of his command team, who had sensibly assembled behind him.
'This will not happen again. I cannot afford to lose men to incompetence and dereliction of duty. This is not some jaunt. We are facing desperate men and some very skilful leadership. We can still lose this fight if we are not at our best for every hour of every day.
'Right, I want a full report on the casualties and hardware we lost, and I want the perimeter guards who managed to avoid seeing forty cavalrymen in front of me by the time I reach my tent, assuming they are still alive. Move.'
Chandyr watched them go, spun on his heel and took a slow walk back through his camp.
The moment Thraun confirmed that Cleress had joined Erienne once more, The Raven had ridden from the elven camp. They were at little more than a canter, the shapechanger still carrying the stricken One mage and holding her head against his chest. To balance her against him, he leaned back in his saddle. It was uncomfortable but it would serve.
They put quick miles between themselves and the elves, heading due north. ClawBound had run with them for a time but soon peeled away to continue their scouting. It was another two days' long ride to Julatsa. Two days in which they had to survive the best Xetesk could throw at them while distracting those same enemies from attacking the Al-Arynaar mages on whom so much hope had come to rest.
They were still so much below strength. Darrick was pale and weak but recovering, Hirad had problems with his right wrist and they were all tired from so little rest. Thraun himself was feeling strong but his heart was weary. He tried to be strong for Denser, to believe that Erienne could live through this but in truth, he was unsure. Not because he didn't believe that she was strong but that he wasn't sure anyone would have the sheer will.
It was curious. He didn't know why he should think this way or why he should know so much. He was not schooled in any of the art behind the One magic, nor any magic. But something was giving him feelings that helped him to understand. Perhaps it was the elemental nature of the One magic. He too was close to nature in the raw, could smell its moods. But the actual link between that and his innate sense of the trouble in Erienne's mind was one that eluded him.
She had not moved since she had fallen back in the catacombs and he had sworn on seeing her that he would not leave her side until she awoke. The Raven had seemed to understand. And for Denser, it had relieved him to do what he had to do, though the strain was telling on him quickly, both mentally and physically.
Thraun had managed to feed Erienne, stroking her throat to trigger the automatic swallow response, and had cleaned her too. He would not stand by while she lay helpless. He and Denser had maintained her dignity, desperate in their own ways to do anything they could to help her.
He wondered whether she could sense him through her unconsciousness. He hoped so and that in some fashion it gave her comfort and left her free to fight the One. He rode with Denser next to him. The Unknown and Hirad were at the front, both with other horses tethered to their saddles. Darrick was behind them, a spare mount with him too.
No one challenged them the entire morning. The sky had been clear and bright since dawn and mercifully free of the erratically moving dark shapes of familiars. But they were under no illusion that they would be followed. They might get clear of foot-bound assassins but Chandyr wasn't stupid, and if he could get riders through, particularly mage defenders and familiared masters, he would do so, trailing them until dusk, when they would be at their most vulnerable.
It was a great risk they were taking but one they felt they had to take. The elves would move better without them and had mapped a separate path to bring them to Julatsa. Given that they would run late into the night, it was touch and go which of them would arrive first. Thraun wondered whether The Raven would arrive at all.
The shudder that ran through Erienne's body had been so sudden that he had nearly let her fall. She had spasmed twice and murmured something unintelligible.
'Denser! Raven stop!'
He pulled up sharply and climbed from his horse with her in his arms, laying her on dry grass under a warm mid-afternoon sun. The Raven came running, gathering round him, staring down at her.
'What is it?' said Denser, dropping to his knees.
'She moved,' he said.
But she was still again. Denser's face creased.
'Are you sure?'
Thraun nodded. 'She fights. Cleress fights.'
'What does it mean?' asked Hirad.
'Let's not lose focus, Raven,' said The Unknown. 'We'll break and eat, it seems a good time. Hirad, Darrick, let's check out the immediate vicinity. If we aren't defensible we'll move until we are.'
Thraun didn't look up while his friends ran away to their tasks. He just gazed down at Erienne, praying for her to open her eyes.