The Raven reached Blackthorne late in the afternoon, under escort from a pair of mounted militiamen. Leaving an area of woodland, they were greeted by the sight of a busy vibrant town. Hammering echoed into the sky, the sound of children laughing floated above that of hooves on packed earth, and everywhere columns of smoke spiralled into the cloudy sky from furnaces and cook fires.
Blackthorne had a population of eight to ten thousand, though that number had been significantly swollen by refugees, and there were tented camps on three sides of the town. The rebuilt Blackthorne Castle presided benevolently over the southern end of the town, pennants flying white and blue in the breeze, its pale grey stone washed clean.
Walking through the town behind Blackthorne’s horsemen, The Raven’s reception was mixed. There was awed recognition, curiosity and shouts of welcome to Hirad as an old friend of the town, but concern because walking with them was a Xeteskian Protector.
Baron Blackthorne had no reservations and welcomed them in his private dining room with flagons of excellent red and white wine, plates of vegetables, bread and cheese. There was some meat but it was obviously in short supply.
His eyes sparkling under his stern dark-haired brow, Blackthorne greeted each one of them in turn, remarking on the return of Darrick, kissing Ren’erei’s hand on meeting her for the first time and shaking that of Aeb, though the Protector looked uncomfortable at the touch. Hugging Hirad to him, he ordered wine poured for all his guests and sat them down around his table. Aeb stood behind Denser but accepted a drink.
‘Gods, but it’s good to see you alive and well,’ he said. ‘We need some sanity in this country and I can only bring that to a small corner.’
‘We’ve heard plenty of stories about conditions here,’ said The Unknown. ‘You seem to be bearing up well.’
‘Only because I have enough men to defend my resources and the support of my people,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Elsewhere, it’s wild. Gresse and I have been touring but there’s little we can do and he’s back at Taranspike Castle. It’s down to the colleges now and the war is worsening by the day. So what brings you back from your tropical paradise?’
There was a pained silence. Blackthorne sighed and clapped a hand to his forehead. ‘Curse my stupid mouth. Erienne, I am sorry. I heard about your daughter.’
‘Seems like the whole world has,’ said Erienne, voice trembling slightly.
‘That’s about the size of it,’ said Blackthorne. ‘And I will say this because you need to know the mood of people outside my lands. The news of her death and the end of the elemental destruction was greeted with joy, not tears. She is not spoken of well, my lady, and neither are you, your husband or much of the mage community.’
‘I can see their point,’ said Erienne. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eye.
‘I, on the other hand, am aware of the full story. It’s just a shame that the colleges have determined to compound their stupidity by going to war.’
Denser raised a hand. ‘Before you tell us what you know, and we tell you why we’re here, Aeb, you should leave. Go beyond earshot. I can hardly lie to you effectively if you’ve heard everything already, now can I?’
‘Master.’ Aeb bowed and left, placing his glass on the table.
Blackthorne was frowning.
‘It will all become clear, Baron,’ said Hirad. ‘I think you should recharge your glass. If you think the situation’s bad now, just wait till you hear this.’
Into an increasingly stunned atmosphere, first Hirad, then Denser and Ilkar outlined the events on Calaius and Herendeneth and their suspicions and certainties concerning Xeteskian involvement and motivations. Blackthorne didn’t touch his wine or food, just stared back at whoever was talking to him. He asked no questions, merely nodded his head to indicate he’d understood. And despite the fire in the grate Hirad fancied he felt the room chill. Not just due to Blackthorne’s shock, but because to hear it all again brought the enormity of the situation home to The Raven.
‘You’ve got to get word to Heryst and Vuldaroq,’ said Blackthorne into the yawning silence that followed, his voice oddly quiet. ‘Xetesk must not be allowed to take possession of either research or artefact.’
‘That’s why we need your help,’ said The Unknown. ‘Our clear priority is to recover the thumb fragment. Going to Lystern or Dordover is days out of our way. You’re a respected statesman and a supporter of magic. This sort of news might be better coming from you. We’re not exactly friends of Vuldaroq’s these days.’
Blackthorne rubbed his hands over his face and drained his glass in one long swallow, refilling it himself having dismissed all his servants.
‘The situation is very tense. Lystern has formed an alliance of sorts with Dordover, but Dordover, or more specifically Vuldaroq, is the more active partner. As far as I know, Heryst still has a diplomatic team in Xetesk but details are sketchy. He’s a man of reason as you know but he’s not in a strong position. He’s gone the only way he can, blockading lands and defending Julatsa, but it’s put him in thrall to Vuldaroq whether he likes it or not. There’s no doubt that knowing what you’ve just told me about Calaius and the elves would be enough to bring Lystern firmly into the war on Dordover’s side. But I’m not sure that’ll help you, considering in all probability you’ll need to get inside Xetesk.’
‘On the other hand, as soon as the elves encounter Dordovan or Lysternan forces, the story will be out and we’ll have had no chance to mitigate the message,’ said The Unknown.
‘Indeed,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Well there’s really only one course of action we can take as far as I can see. I reckon it’s time I sent a trade delegation to Lystern. Quickly.’ He smiled. ‘I might even go myself, perhaps try and find time to have an informal talk with Heryst. You lot, on the other hand, need to get towards Xetesk as quietly and as quickly as you can. I think I can spare some horses and trail food though having an elven archer might help you down something a little more appetising.’
‘My Lord, I hadn’t considered you travelling there yourself,’ said The Unknown. ‘You’re powerful enough to request Heryst communes with your senior mage.’
‘Face to face is the only way,’ said Blackthorne. ‘This is too important for third-party communication.’
‘Just make sure you take a mage we can contact,’ urged Ilkar. ‘If events overtake us, you need to know before you get too close to it all.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said Blackthorne. ‘We’ll discuss the finer points of travel later but there is something else I need to apprise you of if you’re travelling direct to Xetesk.’
‘Wouldn’t have anything to do with Selik, would it?’ asked Hirad.
‘Your friend and mine,’ said Blackthorne, nodding. ‘He paid me an unexpected visit a few days ago. Unexpected and odious. He’s getting cocky. Very cocky. And with some reason. He’s got considerable support. Desperation does that to people and he’s a master at playing on people’s fears.’
‘But they’ll be old men, young boys and farmers,’ said Hirad. ‘Not exactly battle-hardened.’
‘But there will be lots of them. Thousands,’ said Blackthorne. He leaned forward. ‘This is a warning, Hirad. Don’t underestimate him. He’s powerful now and most of the mages are too scared to come outside their college walls. He’s someone else that needs stopping.’
‘Well you’re talking to the right man,’ said Hirad.
‘Later, Hirad, all right?’ said The Unknown. ‘Let’s get this thumb back to the elves first.’
Blackthorne pushed himself to his feet. ‘Right, Raven, I’m going to organise you some beds and horses, then we are going to talk further. If we want Balaia back, we’ve got to do this right.’
Chapter 37