'I'm sorry, master,' he muttered, knowing it would make no difference to his pain.
He could feel himself slipping away and a tear squeezed from his eye. The bearded man spat on to his scorched body and he was too weak even to threaten revenge.
'Very good, Izack,' said the bearded man. 'Let's get to the next sector.'
The cavalryman nodded and the two turned away. The demon's vision faded and greyed. He felt the pull and was gone.
Denser couldn't sleep. He knew he needed the rest, the spell cocooning Erienne's mind was so draining with the One fighting to break it every moment. He poured mana into the structure to keep it strong and saw that mana picked apart by the enemy in his wife's mind.
It was a batde he was helpless to aid. He lay down beside her, stroked her face.
'Please wake, my love,' he whispered. 'Give me something to tell me you're fighting.'
He tuned in to the mana spectrum and tasted the turmoil surrounding Erienne. He could sense the power of the One through his shield and the Dordovan mana that resisted it. The force surrounding her was immense. He could see the raw fuel of magic being dragged into her mind, into the One entity. The damage it had to be doing… he could hardly bear to watch.
There was no way to cap the well. Erienne and Cleress had to do that. And so they did when Cleress was awake and with her. But the ageing Al-Drechar was alone and when she was forced to rest, all her work was undone. He snapped out of the spectrum and swallowed hard.
'You can do it, Erienne. You have to. We can't lose you,' he said. ‘Ican't lose you.'
Helpless. Weaponless. Impotent.
'Please,' he said, hearing his voice strain with the desperation and feeling the tears begin to come. 'Please.'
He felt strong hands lift him and arms crush him close.
'Let it go, Denser,' said The Unknown. 'Or you will never rest and she needs you rested.'
'But it won't help her,' he managed, choking back a sob. 'I can't help her.'
'You are helping her. If the power could escape untamed, you know the One would draw in yet more to feed it. You help her, you help us all.'
Denser nodded. Perhaps it made sense but it was so difficult to see. He drew in a shuddering breath and pushed away from The Unknown, wiping his eyes.
'I'm sorry,' he said. 'Sorry.'
'Why be sorry?' said The Unknown. 'We all yearn to help the ones we love and when we can't, what's left but tears?'
Chapter 34
However many times he had told them, in live exercise, in training rooms and now, in the reality of action, both in the early hours when he had toured the guard positions and the evening before when they had stopped for the night, they hadn't taken heed. Not when it really mattered. And men would die in their sleep because of it.
Chandyr had no time to don his armour, merely grabbed his sword and ran from his tent. He'd been awake, just composing himself to get out and organise the cook fires. He'd wanted to be away at dawn. The first impact had been enough and he'd left his tent before the second and third had hit. There had been no prior warning and that was what made him seethe.
'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.