‘Just where are the Dordovans?’ asked Endorr, his face pale. He was gazing north from where the Dordovans would most likely approach, the swirling grey of the DemonShroud filling the air beyond the College walls.
‘I have no idea,’ said Kerela. ‘But that poor man was right. They should have been here by now. If they have turned back or been killed, I don’t think anything can save us. We are in the endgame for this College now, my friends. We have made enemies within as well as without and the time to act is soon. When calm is restored, we must meet with Kard and name the day we try to break the siege.’
‘But they will kill us and take the College,’ protested Seldane. ‘Nothing has changed but that more of our people are dead and the Wesmen better fortified.’
Kerela said nothing for a moment and Barras followed her gaze to the courtyard where the two fallen men were picked lifeless from the cobbles, blood slicks marking where they had rested.
‘We have waited as long as we can,’ she said eventually. ‘I do not believe that Dordover will help us now.’ She turned back to them and the tears were beginning to run down her face. ‘We are going to lose our College.’
Sha-Kaan felt an emotion he’d thought was forever alien to him. Returning from the Keol, his Kaan in victory formation behind him - a single, curving line in the sky forming a quarter circle - he had considered the implications of the apparent union between the Naik and the Veret and didn’t like the conclusions he drew. His heart sounded heavily in his great chest. He was anxious.
First and foremost, the union meant that at least two Broods were actively talking to each other. Presumably, their initial goal, the destruction of the Kaan, was the same. Beyond that, though, he could see no future in any allegiance. For the waterborne Veret particularly, the extinguishing of Kaan life from Beshara would have little significant effect.
The Kaan and the Veret had historically tolerated one other’s presence simply because their Broodland desires were so different. Why then, should they ally with the Naik to destroy the Kaan? Perhaps they felt able to live in and around the River Tere. Sha-Kaan knew this would never happen. His Broodlands were as coveted by the Naik as they were secret and secure. The Naik would not slipstream aside to let the Veret into occupation.
So, the following conclusion was that the Veret were under threat and had allied to stave off that threat. Why then, had they not come to the Kaan? And who posed a threat of substance to them? No Brood wanted the Veret’s vast expanse of Shedara Ocean. They had eliminated all other marine-based Broods many cycles before.
Finally, it dawned. The Naik were capable of destroying the Veret, should they so desire. It would be an act of pure vindictiveness but it could be done. Knowing a little of the psyche of the Naik, Sha-Kaan thought it not beyond them to promise extinction if they weren’t aided. And if they could promise it to one Brood, they could promise it to others.
An alliance of fear it might be but an alliance of any sort would quickly prove fatal for the Kaan. Indeed, Sha-Kaan had been relying on inter-Brood hatred and mistrust to gain The Raven as much time as possible - even up to the moment the critical size of the gateway was reached, when he knew they would be overwhelmed. An alliance, though, would bring that day of defeat much closer.
As he approached the entrance to the Broodlands, Sha-Kaan dismissed the thoughts from his mind, revelling in his moment of pleasure as he and the victory curve swept along the mist-filled valley.
Later, in the quiet of Wingspread, he mulled over the growing spectre of Brood alliance, cursed its vengeful nature but understood its necessity if the Kaan were to be defeated quickly. Unlike his forebears, Sha-Kaan would not debate openly, choosing to announce decisions and invite criticism and further options. He found it hastened the process.
There were two actions he felt he had to take. First, talk to the Veret and find out the manner of their alliance. Subsequent to that, he had to break it, forge his own perhaps, or seek out weaker allied Broods and destroy them if he could. The latter was not a palatable prospect given the stretching of the Kaan forces.
The second action was far more personal and one which he should not have neglected so long. He was out of touch with Balaia. He had no inkling of the way its struggles leant and, more crucially, was without the healing stream that inter-dimensional space could provide him. He had to select another Dragonene.
But this was not a simple operation. With the battles raging near and in Balaia’s College Cities, the chances for his Brood’s existing Dragonene to recruit a mage capable of dealing with the demands of Sha-Kaan had been few. No suitable candidates had been seriously discussed.
And in itself, this presented a critical problem. The bonds he had enjoyed with Septern so long ago and the subsequent mages that had served him up to the death of Seran were all known quantities, selected with both their blessing and in the knowledge that their minds possessed the necessary strength. To force his mind into that of an untried mage, however highly recommended, risked confusion in his mind and the death of the subject.
That left one possibility. One man who he knew could withstand the power of his mind and whose colleagues could provide the necessary magic. It was a break with over four hundred Balaian years of tradition but the time to be more selective was gone - if he was to fly to speak to the Veret, he had to have the means to heal and, without a Dragonene signature in Balaian space, he had none.
He reached forward with his neck and grabbed a bale of Flamegrass, tossing it around in his great jaws as he chewed and swallowed.
‘So be it,’ he said. ‘So be it.’ He stretched full length across the warm wet floor of Wingspread and opened his mind to search for his new Dragonene.
It was an hour after noon on a day that had chilled as the sun fled west over the Blackthorne Mountains and cloud bubbled up on the prevailing south-easterly wind. In their sheltered space, The Raven had slept, enjoying the gentle warmth of the stove. The Unknown had watched without break while even Thraun slept, his flank a pillow for the anxious Will’s head.
Shortly after midday, Erienne had conducted a Communion, making contact with the refugee mage in the hills to the north of Julatsa. The spell had been relatively short and, as Erienne opened her eyes, Ilkar could see that she didn’t know whether to smile or frown. It was a while before she could meet Ilkar’s eye.
‘Are you stable?’ asked Ilkar. Communion, or rather the breaking of it, left channelled mana suddenly without focus but lying still in the mind. Its return to a more normal randomised state sometimes disoriented both caster and contact.
Erienne nodded and gave Denser a little smile. He smoothed some hair that had fallen over her face back behind her ear. Her smile broadened at the small show of affection.
‘The College is still standing. The Heart is still intact,’ she said and paused. ‘I’m not sure which order to say this in.’
‘Does the mage know how many Wesmen are in and around Julatsa?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Yes,’ said Erienne, glad for direction. ‘She, that is Pheone, says that somewhere around ten thousand Wesmen are occupying Julatsa and erecting a stockade to defend it. They have reinforced since the initial victory and further tented areas to the west hold about five thousand. They haven’t yet moved south-east towards Dordover.’
‘And what about those who escaped into the hills?’ The Unknown ladled himself a mug of coffee.
‘They’ve been ignored so far, Pheone thinks, because the College is still resisting.’
Ilkar felt at once proud and devastated. His city, occupied by invaders; his people, those who escaped, forced to scavenge in the hills. But his College somehow stood against the tide.
‘There’s more,’ said Erienne. ‘There are knots of Julatsans all around the city, hiding in the hills and woodlands. She doesn’t know how many though a group to the south-east intercepted the Dordovan force that Darrick mentioned, over three thousand foot and cavalry, and stopped their scouts running into the Wesmen lines.’