‘The reason Ilkar came to Calaius was to recruit mages to take back there to raise the Heart. Perhaps he knew something was going wrong. Is that possible?’
Dila shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Like all of us, I expect he just wanted Julatsa returned to her former position. And if you’re right about Xetesk’s intentions, then that has become an urgent consideration. How many mages did he think he wanted?’
‘He wasn’t specific,’ replied Rebraal. ‘Hundreds, I think.’
Dila’s heart sank. ‘Rebraal, we’ve barely got two hundred spread around Xetesk now.’
‘I know,’ he said.
‘When will our reinforcements arrive?’
‘Hard to tell. When we left Ysundeneth to come here with The Raven there was precious little activity. The word has only just gone out and the Elfsorrow has taken so many.’
‘So what will we do?’ Dila’heth felt a surge of desperation. And the sensation that, despite the open ground on which she stood, she was trapped.
‘How many did we lose today?’ asked Rebraal.
‘Too many.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
Dila nodded. ‘But it’s still too many. There are one hundred and seventy-four bodies out there. And up here, seventy-eight won’t be fit to fight or cast for ten days. Another forty or so will be buried where they lie.’
She looked into Rebraal’s eyes, saw him doing the addition, the result making him wince.
‘We lost over half of our Al-Arynaar warriors and mages in less time than it takes to boil an egg.’ Dila gestured at the Xeteskians. ‘They could snuff us out on this front right now, so why don’t they?’
‘Like I said, they don’t have to. And actually, I’m not sure they could. Izack is still strong and they don’t know the extent of our magical problems. Anyway, why lose men against an enemy not threatening you?’
‘So what will we do?’ Dila searched Rebraal’s face for the answers she couldn’t find.
‘Wait and watch. Messengers have gone north and south. We’ll get relief. And you must organise your message to Julatsa, either by horse or Communion. Until then, we have a border to keep until The Raven arrive. And Auum gets back.’
‘Where is he?’
Rebraal gestured at the blank walls of Xetesk with his chin. ‘Where do you think? They’ve got our property and we want it back.’
‘Gyal’s tears, how did he get in? More, how will he get out?’
Rebraal smiled. ‘He’s Auum. Duele and Evunn are with him. They’ll find a way. They’re TaiGethen.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘Trust me,’ said Rebraal. ‘Trust him, too.’
‘Rebraal?’
The Al-Arynaar leader turned at the sound of his name, Dila following his gaze. It was Izack. Armour dented and blood-streaked but still very much alive.
‘Commander, we have much to thank you for. Without you, today could have been much worse.’
‘It is worse, believe me.’ Izack’s face was grim and his eyes darted around, as if the facts he knew confused him.
‘How?’
‘I’ve had word by Communion from Lystern. You aren’t going to like it.’
Chapter 3
Hirad flew from his seat as the guards closed in to take Darrick to the holding cell in the Tower, their swords drawn. His chair squealed across the polished wooden floor and Denser watched him, trying to take in everything at once: the six guards striding towards Darrick from around the left and right of the table; the law mages who had stood as Heryst delivered his verdict; and the rest of The Raven, who had spread reflexively to defend the condemned man.
‘Not one more step,’ warned Hirad. He reached for his sword but of course, he was unarmed as they all were. ‘You aren’t taking him, so back off.’
‘Hirad, this isn’t helping,’ hissed Darrick.
The swordsmen came on. Denser saw The Unknown turn towards Hirad as the barbarian switched his gaze to Heryst.
‘Make a new decision. Don’t let them make you murder him.’
Hirad’s voice was a growl, his eyes were bulging and his whole body tensed for action. Muscles rippled in his neck and arms and his breathing had the natural depth of the ready warrior. Denser had seen the danger signs before; they all had.
‘Stand aside, Hirad,’ warned Heryst. ‘You will not obstruct this court’s officials.’
‘I’ll do more than that to any man who tries to take him.’
The guards hesitated, looked to Heryst for guidance.
‘Hirad, please,’ said Darrick. ‘Do as he says.’
‘You’re Raven, Darrick. And this isn’t happening.’
At a nod from Heryst, the guards made another move. Hirad exploded. He took off at a speed Denser didn’t think him capable of any more. But The Unknown was both ready and quicker. The huge shaven-headed warrior met the barbarian square on, wrapping his arms round him and shoving hard, legs braced, feet slipping on the wood floor. The slap of the impact echoing around the hall made Denser wince.
‘Get out of my way!’ Hirad pushed, trying to lever The Unknown’s arms away.
‘Gods’ sake, Hirad, calm down!’ The Unknown shouted into his face. ‘Thraun, help me.’
Erienne was gaping. Denser made a half move and stopped. The guards kept on coming and Darrick stepped around Hirad’s back and walked towards them.
‘No!’ Hirad forced one of The Unknown’s arms back. ‘Let go of me. They’ll kill him.’
He pivoted and lunged after Darrick, threatening to break free, his rage giving him a strength to match even the big man’s. But as he turned, Thraun caught his free arm and the two Raven men bore him backwards, cursing, spitting his fury and heaving against their grip.
‘No, Unknown, you bastard. Don’t let them do this. Let me go, now!’
‘You are not helping, Hirad. Let it rest.’
The Unknown’s face was red with exertion. The muscles in his shoulders were bunched beneath his shirt and the cords of his neck stood proud. Hirad’s feet slithered, searching for purchase. But he had no answer to the combined power of The Unknown and the quiet, determined Thraun.
‘Damn you, Heryst!’ shouted Hirad as he was all but carried through a door and out into the corridor beyond. ‘You’re a murderer, you hear me? A fucking murderer. You should be the one dying, not Darrick. He’s trying to save Balaia. What are you doing? Murderer!’
‘Hirad! Enough!’
‘And damn you, Unknown. Damn the lot of you bastards who stood by and let this happen.’
The voices started to echo as the unequal struggle moved away and out of sight. A curious calm descended on the hall. Darrick had given himself up to the guards who were flanking him but not restraining him. Denser was aware of Erienne’s anxious breathing close by and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Across the table, Heryst and the law mages stood. Metsas and Simmac wore slight smiles while their clerks gathered around them, pale and frightened.
Heryst walked around the table to stand in front of Darrick. The Raven swordsman met his gaze squarely.
‘I am sorry, Ry,’ said the Lord Elder Mage. ‘But you gave me no option.’
‘I thought you a man of strength and vision. A man I could trust and be proud to serve,’ said Darrick. ‘But I saw it first in Dordover and here again today. You are weak. You would betray anything to cling on to power. What a disappointment. You are not the Heryst to whom I swore loyalty. I have nothing more to say to you.’
He looked away.
‘Take him,’ said Heryst. ‘Give him anything he wants.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’