‘Anyone in Greythorne who wants us that badly will find us anyway,’ he’d said. ‘And anyone coming from Arlen is too far away to get to us tonight.’
Too far away. The words haunted Denser.
They were two days’ ride from Erienne and that was a day and a half too many. He felt angry that he couldn’t reach her, frustrated she wouldn’t hear his warning and scared of what they might find in Arlen if he failed in his contact at dawn.
Bloody Hirad. This could prove one indiscretion too many. And despite the barbarian’s confidence, Denser still boiled inside. His wife and daughter were at stake here. Hirad seemed to forget that and he clearly had not grasped how desperate Dordover was to get hold of them both.
The wind rattled the branches and blew dying leaves over the ground. The rain was in the sky now and the odd spot hit his face. Dust kicked into the air and the flames of the fire blew hard, tinged with a telltale blue-brown corona.
It was so wrong. Denser wasn’t a man of the woods but he was a sensitive mage. And this was deeply disturbing. It even tainted the air they breathed, or so it seemed to him. Perhaps it would be better if the Dordovans found Lyanna first. At least then . . .
He quashed the thought, ashamed it had even arisen. But the rational part of him acknowledged it as a solution to the ravages Balaia was increasingly suffering. Hideous, but a solution.
Hirad walked back into the firelight and sat down. He dumped an armful of leaves and roots on the ground by him.
‘There’s not exactly a mass of wildlife around here. I’ve set for rabbits but it might not be rich pickings tonight.’
Ilkar chuckled. ‘Get your excuses in early, Hirad.’
‘You’re funnier than usual tonight, Ilks,’ returned Hirad. ‘Which isn’t hard.’
‘Right,’ said The Unknown and the moment’s levity was banished. ‘We have to face the possibility that Erienne will sail straight into Dordovan hands.’
‘I take it the Communion was no better?’ Hirad looked up at Denser who shook his head, his eyes not quite holding contact. ‘Maybe in the morning.’
‘Maybe,’ said Denser.
‘But the worst case is that Erienne is captured,’ said The Unknown. ‘What then?’
‘Well presumably the Dordovans will demand Lyanna and that means all of them going back to Ornouth with her,’ said Ilkar. ‘It’s pretty simple.’
‘Agreed,’ said The Unknown. ‘But there are variables.’
‘Aren’t there always?’ grumbled Hirad.
Ilkar patted his knee. ‘Wouldn’t be the same otherwise, would it?’
‘No indeed.’ The Unknown drew a mark in the soil. ‘One. We don’t know whether the Dordovans are there in sufficient numbers to take the ship. Even if they are, it will take two days to resupply, maybe more, depending on exactly how unhelpful Erienne and the Guild are able to be.
‘Two. The Dordovans may only be able to stop the ship putting back to sea themselves. Given Darrick’s arrival at Greythorne it’s clear they aren’t there in the numbers they’d ideally like in order to go to sea. We also have to assume that Dordover are working with Lystern on this. But that leaves us still not knowing the numbers in Arlen now.
‘Three. The Guild could manage to put back to sea having rumbled the Dordovan presence. We need to think how to get out to sea and meet them - assuming Denser still can’t get in touch with Erienne.
‘Four. Earl Arlen. He isn’t going to sit around and watch people fighting on his docks. He may be a good starting point for us because he may well not be aware what is happening in his town. On the other hand, of course, he may be entirely complicit in the whole thing.
‘Five. Because of that latter point, we can’t be sure that anyone we meet or talk to is with us or even neutral. One thing that we can be sure of is that the Dordovans in Arlen will be looking for us. And it all means that getting to and helping Erienne is going to be extremely difficult. There are other possible factors but I think you get the picture.’
‘And what help can we be if the odds are overwhelming?’ asked Denser. He shook his head. The rain began to fall steadily. Not hard but that was just a matter of time.
‘We can always help,’ said Hirad. ‘We’re The Raven.’
‘Well you’d better start thinking how. This mess is all down to you in the first place.’
Hirad nodded, brushed his hands together and stood up. He walked past Ilkar and The Unknown, heading for the horses.
‘Where are you going?’ asked the elf.
‘Away.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean I don’t need to hear his smart-arsed superior remarks any longer. I made a mistake and it was a bad one and I’m sorry. But I can’t undo it, only try and make it right. But every opportunity, he’s going to remind me and I don’t need it. So you people who never ever make mistakes can rescue Lyanna on your own.’
‘So you’ll find your own way to the Al-Drechar, will you?’ asked Ilkar, ears pricking. A gust sent rain thrashing around the clearing, stinging the face and sending spats of dirt from the ground as it struck. The fire hissed and crackled in protest, shadows speared across the ground, flickering and jumping.
‘I expect we could work it out, me and the Kaan,’ said Hirad. ‘All I’m asking is a little respect for the fact that I’m helping a man who hasn’t lifted a finger to help me in the last five years.’
‘A little respect, I can grant you,’ said Denser.
‘Drop it, Denser,’ said The Unknown, his voice a growl.
‘One more word, Denser,’ Hirad raised a finger. ‘And you’ll be riding to Arlen alone.’
‘Run off to your precious dragons, Hirad. And you can all die together in your chilly cave while I try and save Lyanna, and Balaia along with her.’
Hirad spun round and ran at the Xeteskian, hurdling the fire and kicking over the pot, scattering water to steam and hiss in the hot ashes. Putting a hand up he pushed Denser in the chest, knocking him back a couple of paces. He might have been a few years older than when The Raven last rode together but he’d lost none of his speed; there had been no time for Denser to react.
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Denser, eh?’ His voice grated low, his eyes, hooded, his face muscles bunched and taut. ‘You and your powerful friends up in your towers.’
He pushed Denser with both hands this time, forcing him to fight to retain his balance.
‘Let them waste away, you thought. People will forget, you thought. We’ll play a little at research but we know we aren’t going anywhere with it. No one will really care. Bet that’s how it was in nice warm fire-bright Xetesk, wasn’t it?’
Denser met his gaze but said nothing. Hirad grabbed his cloak at the neck and marched him backwards, spitting out his words, his whole body shuddering with his anger.
‘But I haven’t forgotten, Xetesk man. And neither have the Kaan. You’ve made them suffer, you bastard, and you never gave it a thought. They are no closer to going home now than they were five years ago are they? But you’re too wrapped up in your petty politics and power climbing to give a shit.
‘But I’ve been there. Every day and every night. Seeing their eyes dim and their scales go dull and dry. Seeing their confusion grow and their minds seethe. Because every day they die some more while every day the ungrateful scum they saved forget a little more.’
Denser was backed against a tree with nowhere to go. Rain was running down its trunk and thunder barked overhead. The torrent increased its ferocity, its hammering in the leaf cover a cacophony into which Hirad shouted.
‘Get where I’m coming from, Denser? Understand even a little bit?’ Hirad made a tiny space between thumb and forefinger. ‘Because right now there’s a death sentence over the Kaan. It’s long and slow but it’s certain because no one’s going to help them, are they?’