‘Indeed, although our efforts are not over,’ said Senedai. ‘But we have the option of waiting for you to die of hunger, or thirst, or for the barrier to drop as you weaken. And there is further pressure we can bring to bear but I don’t wish to be forced to use it. I am not a savage but, one way or another, we will bring down your College.’
‘I will die before I see you set foot on this hallowed ground,’ said Barras coolly. Senedai threw up his arms.
‘That is your choice mage, and everyone should be allowed to choose his own death. But perhaps your people are not so willing to follow you into death. It is up to you, all of you. You can either live as our prisoners and we will treat you well, or you can choose to die on our swords or from the slow death that follows an end to your food and drink. I give you until first light tomorrow to decide, when I will be forced to use other methods.’ He turned on his heel and walked back into the heart of the fallen city of Julatsa.
Barras waved for the gates to be closed and walked back to Kard and Kerela.
‘And that’s what you call negotiation, is it?’ asked Kerela, putting an arm around Barras’ shoulder. The three began to walk back to the Tower.
‘No. That’s that I call winding up a Wesman Lord who had no intention of negotiating himself.’
‘I take it surrender isn’t an option?’ said Kard.
‘No,’ said Kerela and Barras together.
‘Why did you have to ask?’ asked Barras.
‘And what did Senedai mean by “further pressure”?’ added Kerela.
‘I know and that’s why I had to ask,’ said Kard, his sadness so complete it brought a lump to Barras’ throat.
‘What is it?’
‘I think we’d better go inside,’ said Kard. ‘We have a great deal of talking to do before morning.’
Chapter 8
Sha-Kaan chose to leave the companionship and quiet of the Choul, flying instead to his own structure above the ground, the great Wingspread his Vestare had created under his guidance and direction.
Though the battle had been long and hard, the superior organisation of the Brood Kaan had limited the damage and losses and left them with enough strength to maintain sufficient guard on the gateway. But the enemy would be back. And they would keep on coming back until the Kaan were defeated or the gateway was closed. Already he could sense it widening, gnawing at the edges of the sky.
The most damaged of his Brood he had sent to the Klene, havens in interdimensional space connected to Balaia. There, the Dragonene mages would serve and heal them for the next fight.
For himself, he had no Dragonene. Since the theft of Septern’s amulet and the death of his Dragonene, Seran, during his first encounter with Hirad Coldheart and The Raven, Sha-Kaan had not paused to make a selection.
The Great Kaan flew with his Brood the short distance to the Choul where all but he dived into its cool, dark depths to rest, choosing the companionship of a press of bodies over the solitude of heat as was the way after victory in battle for all but the sorely wounded. For him, though, there was still work to do and he wheeled away, taking in the state of the Kaan’s territory.
From the edge of the blasted lands of Keol, past the dry wastelands and scarred mountains of Beshara and across the rolling hills and plains of Dormar and into the steam-hot forests of Teras, over which he now flew, that was the domain of the Kaan. A fitting tribute to their dominance and size, and one that would soon be lost if a way wasn’t found to close the gateway to Balaia.
Much of the lands the Kaan held without contest but it hadn’t always been so. For most of his young adult life, three generations and more past, he had fought the Brood Skar for control of the once-fertile lands of the Keol.
He still remembered the sheer cliffs protecting beautiful deep glades fed by spectacular waterfalls. The swaying long grass in the wetlands atop the old volcanoes and ice-cut plateaux. The burgeoning woodland where the Flamegrass grew from the rich soil beneath the canopy of leaves, harvested by the faithful to feed the Kaan’s fire, its verdant blues and reds a beacon for the needy. And for those who would take it for themselves. The Skar.
The Kaan had been weakening through the long rotations of the battle, their numbers dwindling without the mind-support of a parallel dimension with which to meld the Brood psyche.
The Skar and the Kaan had fought in the skies, across the ground and in the lakes and rivers, banishing life from every wad of earth and swallow of water. People were slaughtered, those who did not run for the wastelands and beyond, the courses of waterways were changed forever by barrages of dislodged rock, by slides of burned earth and by the collapse of tunnels beneath the surface as Choul after Choul was found and destroyed.
On the surface, the vegetation was scorched to its roots and beyond, the richness and fertility driven from the soil and the ground baked and blackened by endless flame from the mouths of those who relied upon it for life.
The land died and the Kaan would have followed it to oblivion but for the appearance of Septern, the one great human, on the edges of the cracked and devastated land that had once been Keol, most coveted of domains.
It was Sha-Kaan who had found him. It could just as easily have been a Skar and then history would have been so very different. He had just been there beneath Sha-Kaan’s low-level sweep, walking a little aimlessly, staring up at the sky full of warring dragons, staring at Sha-Kaan as he rushed towards him.
Septern had shown no fear, just a quiet resignation, rather like Hirad Coldheart had done in Taranspike Castle. An acceptance of fate. And it was for that reason that Sha-Kaan did not kill the great human. He was curious because Septern was clearly not of the Vestare, who served the Kaan so faithfully, indeed he was also clearly not of any race that served dragons - the expression on his face told Sha-Kaan that much.
Despite the battle raging in the sky above him, Sha-Kaan had landed, his curiosity overcoming the risk. For, while dragons were masters of the skies, their movement at ground level was ungainly and slow in comparison.
His decision set in motion the events that saved the Kaan by winning them the battle against the Skar and gifting them the parallel dimension they needed to develop to the next plane of awareness.
As he’d landed close to Septern, Sha-Kaan had looked beyond him and the reason for Septern’s abrupt appearance became clear. Partly hidden by the hardy brush which still survived in Keol, he saw a swirling white-flecked brown rectangle that was practically invisible against the rock on which it appeared until viewed head-on. He’d known immediately what it was and as he had shepherded Septern away, his bark to alert the Kaan had changed the course of the battle for Keol.
Immediately, a flight of Kaan dragons flew to and through the gateway, sparking a desperate reaction in the Skar. The entire Brood broke off their attack, sweeping down towards the beacon that was the active gate through which their enemy had flown.
More than a dozen had cleared the gate before the Kaan set up a defensive mesh around it that drove off the remaining Skar. It was a lesson they were never to forget. Neither was the first brief exchange between Sha-Kaan and Septern one the former would misplace in his old but razor-sharp mind.
‘What’s happening?’ Septern had asked of no one, plainly not expecting a reply from his unexpected guardian, his bewilderment plain in his tone, on his face and in the set of his body.
‘The Kaan fly to destroy the melde-dimension of the Skar. Then we will win the battle for Keol.’ Again, much as with Hirad Coldheart, Septern’s legs had given way in his surprise at the source of the answer to his question. He, too, had recovered quickly.
‘I don’t understand,’ he had said.
‘The gateway through which you travelled leads to the dimension that supports the Brood Skar; we can feel its signatures. We will destroy its critical fabrics and break that support. Then we will win the battle for Keol.’