Hirad got the idea. ‘Raven!’ he shouted. ‘Line abreast, three yard spacing. Raven with me!’ Not waiting to see if Styliann was with them, Hirad ploughed off through the grass, sensing The Unknown and Ilkar flanking him. Glancing left and right, he could just about see them but couldn’t make out the rest as they stumbled and fought their way through the tall thick grass that impeded their every step.
They were running blind and it was all a game of chance. As he thrashed through the pliable stems, he imagined the dragon rushing down, laughing at the pitiable attempts to escape it could see as it chose its first victims. None of them had a chance. It could wield its fire at will and soon they would all be so much ash floating up into the sky.
He felt anger that Sha-Kaan could leave them so unprotected and he called the Great Dragon’s name in his mind, demanding assistance, pleading for rescue. Stumbling and almost falling, he choked back a cry, a stark realisation thumping through his skull. This was his nightmare made real. In Taranspike Castle he had dreamed that he was running on cracked earth and going nowhere but the result would be the same. He would be caught and the skin would be burned from his bones as he stood helpless.
A wave of heat washed across the plain from away to his right accompanied by red light as flame scoured into the grass. No one screamed but then they wouldn’t have had the time. Hirad prayed it wasn’t Jatha and increased his pace. Crackling noises filled the air and a dense smoke flooded into the sky as the dry grass was enveloped by fire. Through a swirl in the smoke the dragon, something like seventy feet long and no more than forty yards away, peeled back into the sky to prepare for another run, its sleek blue body slipping easily through the air, its wings beating in graceful time. Its shadow was black on the ground, those huge wings snapping like sails as they dug at the air, pushing it aside with great sweeps, the noise like wind howling around buildings. With cold certainty, Hirad knew it was coming for them next time.
He plunged on, shoulders hunched and arms up and protecting his face. No more than a dozen paces ahead, the ground fell away. It was their only chance.
‘Raven!’ he roared over the noise of the fire, the shouts of other men and the calls of a hundred dragons. ‘Slope dead ahead. Let’s get down it. Stay low!’ He could sense the dragon wheeling behind them. He ran on, took his last pace at a half dive and plunged to roll down the slope, turning over and over, grass, earth and loose stones filling his sight as he went.
It was a steeper slope than he had anticipated and he struggled to control his speed. A great scorch of flame lashed overhead, incinerating the grass at the top of the slope and sparking another fire that raged and consumed the vegetation all around. Heat washed down the slope, the shadow of the dragon passed over him, he splayed out his limbs to slow himself, hit the bottom of the slope and came to a sudden halt against The Unknown, dust filling the air and a run of dirt and broken stems sliding behind him.
The two men helped each other to their feet. Ilkar lay a few yards away, shaking his head as he dragged himself to a sitting position, dust clouding around him, smoke fogging the air above. An acrid, burning smell filtered down and the noise of the dragon-induced fire was close.
‘Raven!’ called Hirad. ‘Sound off if you can hear me. Be moving this way.’
Denser and Erienne both called that they were all right. Thraun appeared at Hirad’s side, nodding curtly.
‘Assessment,’ said Hirad.
‘The smoke in the sky will obscure us but the fire will kill us if we hang around,’ said The Unknown. ‘We need to move away and up the other side of this slope. The prevailing wind is blowing east to west, I suggest we push east.’
Denser and Erienne came into view, the Dark Mage with an arm around Erienne’s waist, she with blood running from a cut in her chin.
‘Not exactly the entrance recommended for a pregnant woman,’ she said. Hirad’s concern must have shown as she quickly smiled. ‘But it takes a lot more than a slide in the grass to hurt a mage child.’
‘Good,’ said Hirad. ‘Come on, let’s move away from the fire. Cover your mouths if you can.’ He moved off, fetching a cloth from his pocket and tying it over his mouth and feeling instant relief from the smoke that smothered the sky overhead and was moving to fill the shallow cleft in which they were hiding. The fire burned on two sides of them, making its way steadily down the slope behind them and to their right as they trotted quickly along the base of the cleft.
Angling slightly up-slope in the direction of their travel, Hirad strained to hear the attacking dragon or some sign of other life from the sundered travelling party but couldn’t. Worried by the sudden apparent withdrawal, he unsheathed his sword almost reflexively, turned to tell The Unknown to do the same, heard a whisper through the grass and was calling for Ilkar’s HardShield before the short arrow struck Thraun in the left shoulder.
‘Shield up,’ said Ilkar.
‘Raven, watch those flanks. Denser, I think your blade will be more use in here. Thraun how are you?’ A second arrow bounced from the shield, then a third.
‘Flesh only. I’m bleeding but I can fight.’ His flat-toned voice held no hint of the pain he had to be feeling.
Hirad pushed onwards, The Unknown two paces to his right, Denser coming to his left, leaving Thraun as rear guard behind the casting mages. He could hear Erienne muttering as she built the mana shape for a spell he prayed held no fire. Another three arrows bounced before shouts from in front of them preceded the cracking of grass and the running of feet.
Hirad stopped and hacked the grass flat in front of him. ‘Here they come. Expect short swords; you know what Jatha was carrying.’
Three shaven-headed men burst forwards, all less than five feet tall and carrying stubby spiked clubs two-handed. As they charged, they shouted in a language Hirad couldn’t understand, their faces suffused with hatred. Behind them, others were coming.
Hirad swayed backwards and caught a surprisingly powerful blow on his blade, moving it left to right and down, exposing his enemy’s right side. He rebalanced swiftly and snapped his blade up to slice the ear of the man as he tried to dodge the blow. The man cried out in pain and Hirad brought his sword back down in a killing blow through his shoulder, crashing through bone.
He stepped back again and waited, seeing Denser stabbing his victim through the chest while The Unknown had made even shorter work of his opponent. The chasing pack faltered. Where their companions had run on in a hate-lust, they stopped to look at those they faced, taking in their height, strength and the size of the blades ranged against them.
‘Move up,’ said Hirad. ‘Keep an eye on those flanks. Erienne, I think another demonstration if you’re ready.’ The enemy, perhaps a dozen of them, were backing off, Hirad watching them every step. He could see movement either side. ‘They’re going to attack again. Not frontal. Erienne, ahead is yours.’
Erienne stepped up to Hirad’s shoulder, opened her palms and spoke a single command word. IceWind howled away into the grass, destroying man and vegetation over a twenty yard spread. The Raven warriors advanced quickly into the chill behind it. Shouts of pure terror erupted from all around and suddenly the sound was all of running feet as the enemy fighting men turned and fled.
‘Excellent,’ said Hirad. He pushed on, trotting through the dead zone Erienne had created, poles of grass shattering at his passing, the bodies of half a dozen men, forever frozen in fear, scattered about him. Moving on up the slope, he could see the ground levelling out again. To his right, a pall of smoke covered the plain. The question was, where were Jatha and Styliann?
He brought The Raven to a watchful halt. Immediately, Erienne turned to tend to Thraun’s shoulder. He scanned the sky. Around the rip, a furious battle was in progress. Flame lit up the sky which was full of dragons swooping, diving and climbing. As he watched, a pair of what he thought were Kaan by their size, chased down a lone enemy. One breathed a long gout of flame over its wings while the other dived down to grab its neck, twisting violently before dropping the victim who plummeted from the sky.