Kard’s shout for calm went unheard by all but those immediately around him and ignored by even them. With the mob beginning to press, despite a fragmentation of its edges caused by more soldiers pulling people away, the greying General turned a worried face to Barras.
‘Your turn, I think,’ he mouthed.
Barras nodded and leaned into Kerela. ‘Time for VoiceHail,’ he said.
‘Just a single word,’ she advised. ‘I’ll pass on your intention.’
‘Thank you.’ Barras drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, bringing the geography of the College to his mind. The mana shape was little more than a line, tracing and connecting every building. The Tower, the Long Rooms, the walls, Mana Bowl, lecture theatres, classrooms and billets. All were linked by the shape, all became receptors, conduits and amplifiers of Barras’ voice. He opened his eyes and nodded.
Kerela placed a hand on Kard’s shoulder and every soldier and Council member immediately placed hands over his or her ears. Before any in the whistling crowd had time to react, Barras, his voice deep on the frequency of the mana stream, spoke.
‘Silence.’
The word clattered over the open space, crashing into unprotected ears to rattle skulls and stun voices to quiet. It rolled off the College buildings, a word from the Gods, deafening and irresistible. Metal resonated, glass rattled in frames and a sound like thunder, like stone shaking in its foundations, rolled around the square. Silence reigned.
‘We will talk or disperse, we will not shout or fight,’ said Kerela. Her voice, like Barras’, was augmented by the mana shape still being held firm by the elf, though much lessened in power. Still, it boomed out over the mob, now motionless but for hands rubbing heads and ears. The anger inside, though, still remained. ‘Do you not realise that this is precisely what Senedai and his band of murderers beyond our walls want? Gods in the ground, if we kill ourselves or divide ourselves so finely we cannot fight, we will have done his job far more completely than he could do it himself.’ Kerela shook her head. ‘We must remain one or we will be unable to function.’
‘But soon there will be no one left to fight for out there!’ shouted one. More joined the chorus and through it Barras plainly heard the word, ‘murderers’. The crowd closed again.
‘Please,’ said Kerela. ‘I beg your patience and your understanding a little longer.’
‘But how long. How long, eh?’ A face at the front of the crowd growled the words. He was a big man, muscles bunched beneath his shirt. He carried a mace. ‘My mother lies out there, the stench of her rotting body in my nose every time I draw breath. My heart is in tatters and yet I have to stand here and listen to you beg more time to save your own filthy skins.’
‘I understand your pain . . .’ began Kerela.
‘You understand nothing!’ spat the man. ‘How many of your family have died so far to protect mages who have grown fat off Julatsa for far too long.’
‘And who was it that saved you from death at the hands of the Wesmen?’ asked Kerela, and Barras could see her trying to keep herself in check. ‘The same mages who have already perished in the Shroud, waiting outside to give you the time to run in. Please do not judge us uncaring of our people.’
‘We are not your people,’ said the man, his voice carrying clear over the crowd that had paused to listen to the exchange. ‘And we demand you remove the Shroud and let us fight.’
‘When the Dordovans arrive, then we will fight. And where Kard’s soldiers lead, you may follow,’ said Kerela, heedless of the message that might be heard beyond the walls.
‘They should have been here days ago,’ said the man, his face reddening. ‘How long did you think we would swallow this lie? Drop the Shroud now.’
‘And if I refuse?’ asked Kerela.
‘We may be forced to make sacrifices of our own.’
Barras’ heart missed a beat and the sickness already in his stomach at the hideous sight beyond the North Gate intensified. Kerela, he could see, was unprepared for the response. He decided to talk himself, turning up the VoiceHail.
‘You would kill Julatsans to force us to action? Murder more innocents?’ he demanded.
‘Not innocents. Mages.’ A ripple ran around the crowd. Clearly, not all were privy to the plan being hatched before them. ‘Not all mages enjoy your security.’
‘And what difference do you think you can make outside if we do drop the Shroud? We are already too few. Fragmenting us more would harm us still further.’
‘You don’t care about Julatsa,’ said the man, and his voice rose in volume. ‘All you care about is the preservation of that!’ He pointed his mace at the Tower and the clamour grew again. ‘How many more must die in the thing you created before even your stuffed heads realise what is going on. We have to stop the killing.’ He took a pace forwards and was pushed back by a soldier. Hate in his eyes, he brandished his mace and brought it crashing down on the guard’s helmeted head, the man collapsing, blood running from the helm line.
Immediately, another soldier lashed out with a sword, taking the man in the midriff. He screamed and fell and the crowd erupted in fury. They surged forwards against the desperate defence of Kard’s well-marshalled troops. Barras yelled for calm but even his augmented voice had no effect. Around the edges of the mob, he could see scuffles breaking out among city folk and College guard and part of the crowd broke away to run towards the Mana Bowl where many mages were billeted.
A more pressing problem, quite literally, was the surrounding throng that moved in from all sides. Temporarily, there was a yard space between them and Kard’s men, whose swords glinted in the dawn light, keeping back the front rank who had no desire to die. Behind them, though, there was no such risk.
‘Quick,’ ordered Kerela. ‘All of you. SunBurst. Cover the compass then be ready to run for the Tower. Kard, on the command word, shield your eyes. Pass word around the ring.’
‘Aye, my Lady.’ Kard circled quickly behind his men and the message was passed.
Dropping the VoiceHail, Barras concentrated on the new spell. Its shape was flat and, as he dropped his vision into the mana spectrum, he could see the yellow disc growing in intensity as more and more of the Council lent it their strength of mind and channelled ever-increasing mana into its expanding diameter. In a matter of moments, it covered the College and beyond, a slowly revolving disc of mana, swirling with many hues of yellow and shot through with black. One by one, the Council announced their readiness to each other by flagging the disc with their signature in its centre. When all were done, Kerela spoke.
‘Now Kard. Right now. Vilif, the command is yours.’
‘SunBurst,’ intoned the ageing mage. ‘Flash deployment.’ In an instant, the mana shape was gone. Barras closed his eyes and covered them with his hands. White light deluged the courtyard, bringing a temporary blindness to everyone not shielded. Even Barras could feel its force, knowing that, though temporary, the effect was both painful and frightening. They had taken a big chance.
Screams of shock and sudden pain echoed about the courtyard and a hundred weapons clattered to the stone. Barras opened his eyes to see people collapsed on the ground or running away to nowhere, sight gone for a few moments, anger supplanted by the urge to escape.
‘Let’s go,’ ordered Kard, and he led the Council across the short distance to the Tower, seeing them safely inside before turning to bark more orders that saw his men disperse in disciplined teams to defend the College’s crucial buildings. Barras closed the Tower doors and followed the Council up the long outside stair to the first rampart. There they gathered to witness the effects of their action.
Instantly, it had proved a success. The crowd’s collective spirit had broken for now and, as sight came back to them, people fled the courtyard. But some remained, and anger filled the air.