There was far more to the situation than Auum had appreciated and for the first time he wished he had listened more closely to The Raven. This was no simple two-way fight. At least two other factions were involved and that made decisions complex. However, the outcome was still not in doubt.
The ClawBound had discovered the party of Xeteskians on the third day of searching, moving steadily along the trail Rebraal had indicated. Their communications had spoken of a sizeable force. It had been another day before Auum and his Tai had found the pair. Although sympathising with how unsettled they were, he had rebuked the ClawBound for attacking an innocent. He had then personally tracked the Xeteskians for another day before moving quickly to the meeting point.
He reached it half a day ahead of the enemy and immediately began to plan, gathering other Tais to him and assessing information from the northern scouting. Troops in battle lines had been found a further three days north, their purpose unclear because they faced both north and south. There was no knowing if they were Xeteskian but the fact that they could be enemies added further weight to the argument for attacking the travelling force at the first opportunity.
‘The enemy strength is not considerable in numbers but the warrior and mage quality is high,’ said Merke, leader of the second Tai tracking the travelling Xeteskians.
‘Agreed,’ said Auum.
And it was so. The mounted forces numbered fifteen mages and thirty cavalry. On foot were twenty foot soldiers and fifty of the masked warriors. It was these last about whom Auum was most concerned. He had seen the one who fought with The Raven and his speed and raw power were beyond question. Rebraal had been at pains to emphasise that the more of them there were in one fight, the better they became. So fifty were to be rightly feared.
Given their strength and the focussed magic they could bring to bear, to attack them with the numbers that had landed from the Calaian Sun would be foolhardy. But the main elven force was now on land and travelling north. If they kept up their pace, there would be a chance to attack the Xeteskians south of the battle lines. Assuming the troops in the line were also Xeteskian, it was vital to attack the marching force as soon as possible.
Auum called Rebraal to him.
‘What are the numbers we can expect here?’
‘A further fifteen TaiGethen cells, four ClawBound pairs and a hundred and seventy Al-Arynaar. But every day more fall prey to the Elfsorrow.’
‘The Tai have been mercifully free of the Elfsorrow since we left Calaius but it won’t last,’ said Auum. ‘We have an opportunity but I need to combine our forces quickly. Hold Communion. Have the main force move more quickly northwards and be prepared for battle a day after they join us. We must strike before the enemy reach the college lines to the north.’
‘And if we don’t secure the fragment?’ asked Rebraal.
‘Alert The Raven,’ said Auum. ‘They say they can help. If we fail, we’ll see what they can do, won’t we?’
‘You are sceptical, Auum?’
Auum shrugged. ‘It is the way of an elf. You have listened too closely to your brother. Rebraal, one more thing. We are going to track the strangers from a distance. They must have no idea we are following them. If they increase their pace, we are lost. Be sure your people understand.’
‘Don’t worry. None of the Al-Arynaar will travel forward of the TaiGethen or ClawBound.’
‘We are in an alien land,’ said Auum, ‘People talk and messages cross long distances by magic. Unless you have no option, keep clear of Balaians. This must be the greatest victory since the unification of the elves. Our lives are all at stake. Be sure they are mindful of that, too.’
‘We understand, Auum,’ said Rebraal.
Auum nodded. ‘Pray with me.’
‘It will be my honour.’
Ilkar came out of his Communion with the Al-Arynaar mage and outlined the elves’ plans.
‘Where do they report seeing the college lines?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Three plus days north of Thornewood.’
‘That’s the southern border of the Xeteskian mage lands,’ said Darrick. ‘When you talk to her next, tell her the troops they can see are going to be Dordovan; the lines they can’t see a couple of miles further north will be the Xeteskians.’
‘And they’re planning on attacking where, exactly?’ asked The Unknown.
‘Rebraal’s brief is a little sketchy but it’ll be close to the lines. Perhaps not in sight but not far off. It’s all a question of getting the main force that followed us into the Bay of Gyernath north quickly enough. With the best will in the world, they can’t catch Yron and the researchers much south of the Xeteskian lines. They’re all on foot after all.’
‘But fast,’ said Ren. ‘And resolute.’
Ilkar nodded. ‘So where does that leave us?’
‘Simple,’ said Hirad. ‘We can get north of Yron’s force and perhaps even contact the Dordovan lines. Let them know what’s coming. What do you say?’
‘It’s good enough for me,’ said Ilkar.
The Unknown looked at Darrick, who nodded his agreement. ‘Let’s do it.’
Yron had never been able to shake off the idea that they were being watched. For practically every mile of the ten-day journey since they had left Arlen with the researchers, he’d had a nag at the back of his mind. He knew they drew glances from everyone they passed but that wasn’t it. Hollow-cheeked men and women trying to work the land or with bow in hand on the hunt, traders wary of attack giving them a wide berth on the trail and refugees in any number just drifting; they weren’t the problem.
Nor were the Dordovans. He’d been given clear assurances that their path to Xetesk was clear of enemy college forces until close to the mage lands. And he had no reason to disbelieve the army command. The devastation in Arlen, shocking as it was, served as ample proof of Xetesk’s intent to see them safely home. There were parts of the town where nothing would grow again, the magic had caused so much damage to the core of the earth. Like a smaller version of the Torn Wastes far to the west.
But something wouldn’t let him relax, and it wasn’t the vague threat of Black Wings and misguided non-mages. Riding in the midst of fifty Protectors he would hardly fear those. It was the elves. He had no evidence whatever that they had followed him across the ocean as The Raven would have done. And he had no evidence they were being trailed or watched but he just knew it was so.
And because of this feeling he ordered them to follow a path away from the cover of valley, crag and forest. He would even have avoided long plains grass if he could, but to do that they’d all have had to fly. So instead he drilled his guards and kept half of his mages awake and shielding them day and night. He was aware they thought he was mad, but they hadn’t been in the rainforest. They didn’t understand these elves’ capabilities.
The Protectors of course said nothing, and he was grateful for their reassuring presence. The rest of them would be welcome to laugh in his face the moment the gates of Xetesk closed behind them. In fact, he decided, he’d be the one to start the laughter. Only Erys understood, but all his words with the researchers, foot soldiers and cavalry served to do was make him seem as ridiculous as the Captain.
Yron had spent several nervous days riding between the ruins of Grethern Forest and Thornewood but with no incident. They had stopped off in Erskan to find themselves unwelcome and the gates of the castle closed against them. And they had skirted the earthquake rubble of Denebre over which the birds would not fly. Nothing. Not a hint of trouble.
They were less than half a day from the Dordovan blockade of the Xeteskian mage lands as late afternoon began to give way to dusk, but still Yron refused to relax. One word from him and the Protectors that ran with him would pass the message to their brothers in the battle lines and the way would be cleared, but still he could not stop fidgeting.