Auum led them in a prayer to Yniss to watch over them, and to Tual, the God the ClawBound most revered, to guide them.
'There can be no sound,' he said. 'Our jaqrui pouches remain closed, the Claws must restrain their voices. We are few. We can inflict damage to help our brother Al~Arynaar and repay the debt owed to the ClawBound but we must not be heard. There is nowhere for us to run from their mages and their familiars.
'We have our targets. We move.'
The ClawBound pairs made no gesture to suggest that they had heard or agreed. They were still for a moment, and then ran away, one pair directly ahead, the other to the right, leaving the Tai cell to take the left flank.
'Care with your bows,' said Auum. 'Only if you are certain of a clean kill.'
He drew his twin short swords and sped away through thigh-high grass towards a bracken-covered mound, while Duele and Evunn, bows prepared, moved five yards left and right and ten behind.
Auum sensed every footstep he made, minimising the pressure, feet finding sure hold. The drying ground still held treachery for the unwary but the elf, born to the rainforest, would rely on it as he would solid rock. He breasted the bracken, easy movements at one with the direction of growth, stems eased aside rather than crushed underfoot. Beyond the mound, the land fell away sharply to a muddy tributary. He sized it up as he approached, the fast failing light no barrier, finding the solid ground, footfalls not sounding.
Climbing up from the tributary he slowed momentarily, assessing the land ahead, seeing a knot of trees lefty another fall in the land and clear tracks through tall grass. At the base of the dip, a figure disappeared into another small wooded area. He raised a hand, pointed to the relevant tracks and curved away, sprinting hard down the slope, eyes to his right.
He could see them botii now, walking calmly through the trees tiiat sprouted new life after the storms that had all but destroyed them. The men were close together, eyes ahead, looking forward to their rest. With the sky near full dark, it would not be long. But they were not destined for rest among their friends.
Auum checked his run and curved back towards the right, closing in. He held out an arm, three fingers straight, his order taken up by Duele and Evunn who made up the ground for the cell to advance in line. Duele was running with his bowstring taut, an enemy in range but no definite kill shot available. Evunn still searched, his mind perhaps not as keenly resolute as those of his Tai fellows.
Auum did not drink he would need either of them. The ground plateaued in front of him and he crossed it with barely a whisper. He could hear them talking, their quiet tones carrying to him above the sounds of breeze and tree, rodent and predator. At the base of a tree, its bulging trunk stripped bare by deer, he stopped, watching. They were oblivious. They were looking around themselves again, checking back and watching the route they had travelled now tiieir eyes were adjusted to the dark.
The Tai had needed no such wait.
Auum let them move ahead ten yards, nodded to Duele at his right and moved in. Beneath the trees, the ground was soft and damp. No twig lay underfoot, tinder dry, to snap. He was within four paces when one felt the skin crawl on the back of his neck and began to turn.
Auum took off, body spinning and right leg stretched, catching the man in the cheek, his cry muffled by Auum's boot smearing across his mouth. The TaiGethen landed next to the other man and jammed a short sword up under his jaw, spearing his brain through the roof of his mouth. He dragged the blade away, made to finish off the other but he already had two arrows in his chest.
Duele and Evunn trotted in and cut the shafts free, cleaning and dropping them back in their quivers. Auum nodded their direction and the cell set off again.
Not a bird had been put to flight though the blood of fresh death stained the earth.
Thraun missed the closeness of Erienne, her hair and the feel of her skin. He missed that he couldn't help her any more and that she had no use for him. For any of them. He treasured the touch she had given him, cupping his cheek, her lips just brushing his and then she was gone again as she had been from Denser. He had felt hurt but now he just felt deeply sorry for her because, to him, the torment she was going through was obvious.
Not just that every move she made was jerky and uncertain somehow. And not because she said very little but to make demands to stop, to ride, to eat or drink. But because he had seen into her eyes and not even Denser had seen the raging within. Every cell of her was fighting to restrain the One and it took her almost completely from them.
But he knew that she was better for the fact that she could sense them again. The times she had been close to him, the briefest touch or a lifting of the corner of her mouth told him she was still there with them.
Thraun was the watch now that they had eaten and the fire was doused. It was dark but his lupine eyes could separate the shades and his nose was keen, the strong smell of wood smoke hanging in the air just one of the myriad scents he could discern. The Raven were sleeping and that was compliment enough. He sat with them, right in their midst, silent.
From where would the threat come, he wondered. They had camped as they must, hidden from plain view land- or airborne but there was no geographic feature nearby to guard any point of the compass. So threat could come from anywhere and strike at anyone.
Not Erienne. She would not be killed though she could conceivably be taken. But any member of The Raven was as critical as any other.
The question was, who would they target? If, indeed, any of the Lord of the Mount's assassins were even in the vicinity.
Thraun pushed himself to his feet and padded carefully across the small camp site to where the horses were tethered. He stood with them, watching as they did, the eddies of the night around them. Horses were always nervous with him on first contact. This group had calmed now but they sensed something other than the human in him. It was just something he had to accept.
Like so much that was frustrating. Like his lack of language and die gap between thought and articulation. Like the love that remained for his wolven side but that he denied because he feared the prison of the animal form. So much he didn't fully understand.
He stood with the horses for some time, their warmth and innocence comforting. They demanded so little. But they missed almost nothing of what was around them. There was a moment when all their attention was in the same direction. Thraun moved away from them then, walking smoothly back towards his friends. Denser was stirring but in his anxiety he might have done that at any time. Might have.
Thraun paced evenly and very quietly towards Denser, seeing the mage flap his arms as if pushing away an unseen enemy. Indeed. Thraun saw the shimmer against the heat signature of the dead embers. He walked past Denser's feet, bent down and dropped his hand on the Cloaked figure, catching him a little high but adjusting his grip. Thraun pushed, the assassin becoming visible as he stopped moving, his face driven into the ground, a knee on his back. The shapechanger growled.
'Knife,' he said.
The assassin held out his right arm. The dagger in his right hand was coated. Thraun punched his wrist and the weapon dropped from his grasp.
'You will not move,' said Thraun. He tightened his grip on the assassin's neck, dragging him backwards and up, the other arm wrapping around his front grabbing his groin. 'Raven!' Thraun's voice boomed across the campsite.