He would have to be careful.
Chapter 29
‘Denser!’ Thraun’s voice was low and urgent.
It was mid morning. The sounds of fighting at the east gates of Xetesk rolled up the gentle slope, filling the air with discordance. From where he had been lying, Denser had guessed that the combat was mainly magic-based, the two opposing armed forces having all but fought themselves to a standstill.
But this morning, both sides would have renewed hope of a breakthrough. With no Protectors in the Xeteskian lines and no elves in the allied lines, both were weakened in muscle and in spirit. Mere men opposed each other now. And those with the greater will, who had remained the stronger through the days of battle, would prevail.
Denser scrambled to his feet. Above him, the trees were calm and a warm sun dried the sodden ground. While he had been resting on leather under his elven-made bivouac, the mana had coursed into him through the dark gateway Xeteskians had used for centuries, and the mana storm had blown itself out.
Thraun was sitting by the embers of the night’s fire, one leg stretched in front of him. The trouser had been cut away and he wore clean bandages through which a hint of blood had soaked. Next to him lay Erienne, beautiful but so pale in the broken sunlight. He stroked hair from her face and looked up at Denser.
‘She is strong,’ he said. ‘I told you.’
Hope gripped Denser. He dropped to his knees at her side and stared at her face. Beneath their lids, her eyes were moving.
‘Erienne,’ he said, leaning in close, his lips brushing hers, feeling their warmth. ‘Can you hear me, love?’
‘She fights,’ said Thraun.
‘How long has she been like this?’
Thraun frowned, struggling to frame the words. Denser prompted him.
‘An hour ago? Just now?’
Thraun nodded. ‘Now,’ he affirmed. ‘The sun helps her.’
Denser understood. Thraun had refused to leave her side when Denser had been forced to rest to regain mana stamina. She had slept in his arms under a leather and leaf shelter, his warmth about her. They went back a long way. Thraun had been a good friend of Alun, her first husband, and now the troubled shapechanger was uniquely positioned to understand her pain. Like him, she was possessed of a force she hated and craved in equal measure.
‘You think Cleress is there?’ he asked.
Thraun nodded again. ‘Her spirit is calm.’
‘Thank you, Thraun,’ said Denser. ‘What would I do without you?’
Thraun shrugged. ‘Raven,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘You must rest more.’
Denser couldn’t refuse. He looked into Thraun’s eyes and saw the frustration boiling there. He didn’t think Thraun would ever quite recover himself. The worst thing was that Thraun knew it too.
‘I know it’s hard,’ he said, climbing slowly to his feet and putting a hand on his chest. ‘But in here, you are everything you always were, and we’ll never forget that.’
He walked back towards his bivouac. Placed at the heart of the elven camp, they were shielded from the prying eyes of the Lysternans near them. It was probable that the allies suspected they were here, or at least very close. The mana storm would have seen to that. But the camp was sealed by TaiGethen and ClawBound. None would dare cross the line. The elves would not hesitate to fight back.
He paused by the sleeping forms of Hirad, Darrick and The Unknown. Men pushed right to their limits and now paying the price. On their arrival back in the elven camp it had been immediately apparent that all needed spell treatment in addition to their bandaging and wound cleansing. Their plan to leave at next dusk was simply not practical.
Darrick was the worst. He’d collapsed from his horse the moment they’d stopped. His blood loss was serious, the wound across his hip deep and open through his forced action. The spell had knitted the damage, bandages held the wound closed but only time would replace the blood. He would be weak for days.
Hirad’s armour was being repaired elsewhere. What was left behind was a shirt barely recognisable as such. Both arms were ragged, his chest was bandaged from throat to gut and his forehead too was hidden beneath clean coverings.
The Unknown had fared better in the fights but had followed that exertion by all but carrying Darrick for over two hours into the teeth of a gale. His was a muscle weariness only rest would relieve.
Strange. Before meeting the elves of the Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen, there was no way The Raven would have slept without one of their number on guard. How necessity bred reliance and trust, how the world moved on. Denser dragged the leather from his bivouac and lay down in the warm open air. He began to relax into himself, seeking the demon gateway from where the mana flowed to feed Xeteskian mages at rest. The demons would close it if they could but until that day, it was the best source of stamina replenishment a dark mage had.
Dimly, he heard the soft padding of a panther, no doubt come to check on Thraun and Erienne. That was why The Raven could rest. Denser closed his eyes.
‘She is so close,’ muttered Vuldaroq. ‘And we are powerless.’
He pushed a forkful of food into his mouth and chewed slowly, looking up and across the table at Heryst only when he’d swallowed. He reached for his wine glass and sipped.
Lystern’s Lord Elder Mage had arrived in Dordover the previous evening to discuss the next moves in the war. So far, the allies had been less than convincing in their efforts to overcome the defence of Xetesk. They had been surprised by the tenacity of the enemy and had been forced to commit too many men to the watcher ring around the city. Rightly they feared the excursions of familiars and assassins but had failed to stop the attacks by both demons and Cloaked mages. They had also failed to stop supplies entering the college, and The Raven were still free.
The strained relations with the elves hadn’t helped. They couldn’t deny their intervention was valuable, even critical, to the effort. But it wasn’t as a partner in belief. The elves had their agenda. And now they’d taken what they wanted and were moving on. That changed the battle plan, as did the worsening of the Julatsan mana focus.
Vuldaroq found himself wondering about the benefits of Julatsa failing terminally. Heryst, he was sure, was not.
‘We will bide our time and wait for our opportunity,’ said Heryst. ‘She and The Raven have the protection of every elf on the battlefield. We cannot act now. She’s going nowhere except, presumably, Julatsa. We can wait.’
‘Tempting, though, isn’t it?’ said Vuldaroq.
Heryst smiled briefly. ‘You and I can sit here and say that. My commanders on the east gate front would say otherwise. I suspect we do not have the warrior or mage strength there to take them on though we outnumber them almost three to one. And even if we did, we would have to leave the east gate unguarded to do it. Like I say, we wait. She will fall to us eventually.’
‘And when she does, we must be agreed on how she is handled,’ said Vuldaroq.
‘She must be treated as a joint asset, Vuldaroq. We have been through this already. Please don’t claim fealty over a woman who does not see herself as belonging to any of us.’
Vuldaroq held up his hands. ‘Another time, my Lord Heryst. Other matters are more pressing.’
‘We agree there.’
‘Now, clearly your forces at the east gate will be most affected by the departure of the elves to Julatsa. And, with Izack’s very astute decision to reinforce the north front with Lysternan forces, you are further weakened there. I have some reserve still in Dordover that I can offer to you. What do you need from me? Men? Mages?’