Текст книги "The Raven Collection"

Автор книги: James Barclay

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Текущая страница: 123 (всего у книги 235 страниц)

Chapter 30

Auum led Duele and Evunn along a shallow stream bed into which a run of low waterfalls fed when the rains were at their height. The stream led through a series of gullies, and the crags and rock faces either side were slick with algae and moss. A heavy smell of damp hung in the air and birds circled ceaselessly, looking for stranded fish in the pools, which cut off quickly when the rains ceased.

The stream, which flowed eventually into the Shorth, made travel easy, and the Tai moved quickly, keeping up a run for hours on end, bows slung across backs, boots slapping down on the wet rock. Auum felt an exhilaration through him as he ran. He could feel his hair flowing out behind him, his heart beating hard and fast, his legs pumping, his arms the perfect balance. Even though the harmony all around him was torn and bleeding, he could sense the energy of the forest and the sounds of Tual’s denizens filled him with hope and belief.

Trotting round a gentle left-hand bend, leaping a deep pool and splashing down into the ankle-deep water on a fine silt bed, Auum saw two from another Tai cell ahead. He recognised them instantly. Marack, the leader, stood over the seated form of Nokhe. Both her hands were on Nokhe’s shoulders and she was speaking to him, or was she praying?

Auum spread his arms and his Tai slowed to a stop by their colleagues. As they did, Marack looked up, her face a picture of anguish. Auum’s exhilaration drained from him and shifted his gaze to Nokhe. The chest of the TaiGethen’s shirt was covered in a fine mist of blood.

‘Yniss save us,’ he gasped, dropping to his knees in front of the stricken elf. ‘Nokhe.’

‘It is the Sorrow,’ said Marack, her voice quiet, robbed of its usual confidence.

‘When did it start?’ asked Auum.

‘At dawn today,’ said Nokhe, his breathing rasping painfully through ravaged lungs. ‘It is a pain like no other, Auum. I’m dying and there is nothing you or Yniss can do.’

‘I will do all that I can,’ said Auum, fighting the urge to scream his frustration at Yniss and his hatred of the strangers. ‘I will pray for you and all those afflicted. This is a test of our faith and I will not fail it.’

Nokhe’s smile was bloody. ‘Just find the desecrators. And their masters. Before the TaiGethen are gone and our people left defenceless. ’

‘Walk with me in the forest,’ said Auum.

‘I can sense all I need from here,’ said Nokhe, his breath hissing suddenly, his face lined and his colour drained and weak. ‘I cannot stand for now. My stomach is shivered and the pain is too much. I am so glad it is you I see with my last clear sight. You and Marack.’

Auum looked up at Marack. ‘And Hohan. Collecting herbs for the pain?’

Marack shook her head and her face fell still further. ‘He is not coming back,’ she whispered. ‘The Sorrow took him yesterday. He is giving himself to the forest while he still has the strength.’

Auum rocked back on his heels, stunned. Only now did he take in that TaiGethen would also die. No one was safe, not even Yniss’s most faithful servants.

‘And you, my brother?’ asked Auum.

‘I do not wish to die alone as Hohan,’ said Nokhe. ‘When the pain passes, I will walk the forest a final time with Marack. Soon, I hope.’ His acceptance of his fate could not mask his fear.

‘And I will also be at your side.’

‘No, Auum. Only Marack may see me die. You must remember me in life.’

Auum nodded and leaned forward. He cupped the back of Nokhe’s head in his hands and kissed his forehead, cheeks and finally, tenderly, his lips. ‘May Tual choose you as her champion in paradise.’

He stood and turned to Marack. ‘Strength,’ he said. ‘When you have walked alone and the contemplation is done, join us. I fear many Tai will be shorn of numbers.’

Auum signalled his Tai. Duele and Evunn paid their respects to Nokhe, exhorting Shorth to speed his passage to the heart of Yniss. But before they began to run again, Auum drew them close.

‘If you should be taken by the Sorrow, I will not hesitate to escort you into the embrace of the forest. And you will do the same for me. Now come, we have work to do.’

Yron and Erys supported Ben-Foran between them now but it scarcely made travel any quicker or easier. Moving away from the bank of the Shorth for the time being to avoid being seen from the other side, they had found no respite deeper in the forest. The lianas hung everywhere. Huge spiders’ webs drifted in any clear space and the trees were so close-packed they had to back up and change direction constantly.

With every pace Yron feared the sound of a jaqrui, its ghostly wailing as it scythed towards his back or his head. Erys’s arrival had surely exhausted their luck and came close to the miracle for which he’d been hoping, but the death of the ClawBound pair, when it was discovered, would intensify the hunt. And they were still two days from the estuary and – he hoped – the welcoming embrace of the reserve force and the ship back to Balaia.

He still hadn’t let himself believe they would make it because he was sure it would dull his focus. And with the TaiGethen after them, that was something he could not afford. Yet slung between him and Erys was a man whose cries would surely attract the hunters. Ben-Foran’s legs were festering. The bandages were mostly torn off now, exposing his terrible wounds to the elements and a new host of remorseless insects and burrowing worms.

How the boy was still alive was beyond him. Erys had intimated the same and had expended what little there was left of his mana stamina trying to numb the pain and fight the infection. But there was so much damage and he was already exhausted. Yron was grateful he had the strength to support some of Ben’s weight.

They’d walked without stopping for more than an occasional short breather until well into the afternoon. Ben had drifted in and out of consciousness but had kept up his questions and talk whenever he was alert. But thirst had overcome them and Yron had boiled water and herbs together for them all, scraping guarana into the mixture to disguise its unpalatable texture and taste.

Following the inevitable rainfall, they’d continued, and now the sun was waning in the sky as the clouds gathered for another soaking. Like them all, Yron suspected, he had come to almost welcome it.

‘Do they do anything else, the TaiGethen?’ asked Ben suddenly.

Yron hadn’t realised the boy had regained consciousness and he laughed.

‘Mind still going, is it, son?’ he said.

‘About the only thing that is, sir.’

‘Anything else than what?’ Erys joined the conversation.

There’d been a lengthy and deepening silence between them all and the sound of their own voices lifted their spirits from the pit into which they had fallen.

‘Well, I don’t know. Looking after the temple and the forest, I suppose,’ said Ben.

‘No, they don’t. And actually they don’t look after the temple directly. That’s the elves we fought, the Al-Arynaar. They are the keepers. They rotate their duties and live in villages much of the time. The TaiGethen never leave the forest. Not ever.’

‘So what do they do?’ asked Ben.

‘Well, besides the obvious it’s actually rather hard to explain. They have a complex set of beliefs built around the harmony of the forest, the earth, the sky and magic. The TaiGethen are effectively the most zealous priests of the religion and they spend their lives dedicated to maintaining that harmony. Whatever it takes. Hunting people like us they believe have wronged them, monitoring animal populations, keeping tabs on elven settlements and logging. That sort of thing.’

‘Like a city guard,’ said Erys. ‘But in the forest, if you see what I mean.’

‘Hardly,’ said Yron. ‘That’s like saying – I don’t know – that Protectors are like city militia, only better trained. The TaiGethen have tracking and hunting skills like you wouldn’t believe. Or maybe you would, Erys. They are silent, they’re impossibly quick and you never see them until they’re about to kill you. They don’t want pay or glory. Bloody hell, they make Protectors look clumsy and slow, that’s how good they are.’

There was a contemplative silence. They walked on, skirting a particularly thick web in which a huge spider was wrapping up its latest catch, and ducking under the moving branches of a balsa tree. Above them, a young python watched, too small to consider them likely prey. The air was getting heavier as rain neared.

‘And you think we can make the ship?’ asked Ben yet again.

‘If our luck holds,’ replied Yron, same as always. ‘I know what you’re saying, but they really are that good. There just aren’t very many of them in relation to the size of the forest.’

‘Will they chase us across the sea, do you think?’ asked Erys. ‘Gods, I want this to be over when we get on board.’

Yron shook his head. ‘Not them. We’ve only taken a few papers, when all’s said and done. It’s a crime, but when we’re out of the forest the harmony can be restored. No, we’ll get delegations from the Al-Arynaar and probably the race elders.’ Yron chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, Erys; you won’t have to spend every day looking over your shoulder.’

Another silence but it had a clearer quality to it. Yron might have scared them with his description of the TaiGethen, but the thought of the safety of the ships was a spur to the mind and body, and for a few hundred yards the forest didn’t seem so dense. And then the rain came, and the world closed in again.

With over a dozen Al-Arynaar staying at Aryndeneth, there was plenty of room in the boats at the moorings two hours east of the temple on the River Shorth. Word was that more Al-Arynaar were coming from all directions. They would be sent immediately downstream to the estuary, or towards Ysundeneth along the Ix in case any of the strangers broke that way. Hirad thought the latter unlikely, given they’d have very little knowledge of anything other than their original route, but it kept the net tight.

Four of the shallow elven craft began the race to the Shorth Estuary, which cut into the north coast of Calaius perhaps three days’ sail east of Ysundeneth. The Shorth was one of the three principal rivers draining the rainforest, but unlike the Ix and the Orra none of its feeder streams connected with its sisters. Three boats carried a dozen elves each and one The Raven and Rebraal, who was none too pleased to be forced to travel with the humans despite their grudging truce.

Hirad found it all a little comical if irritating. The Raven were shunned almost completely – tolerated only because Ilkar was Rebraal’s brother – and assumed to be inferior. It was also clear that Ilkar and Ren were somehow lessened by their association with the humans. That The Raven might actually be able to help the elves hadn’t occurred to them at all as far as he could see.

‘Don’t let it get to you,’ said The Unknown, seeing Hirad scowl across at the nearest boat full of Al-Arynaar.

‘We’re ready to fight a battle for them,’ said Hirad. ‘We won’t get paid although we might get hurt and they’re treating us like shit. Sorry, but it is getting to me.’

‘They can’t discard centuries of prejudice just like that,’ said Ilkar from further forward, beneath the billowing sail. There was no need to row just yet, the breeze angling across the Shorth driving them at a good speed on the back of the prevailing current. ‘Particularly with what’s just happened to them.’

‘But we aren’t anything to do with the temple raiders,’ said Hirad. ‘Do they assume all elves are the same? Is it so difficult for them to understand people can be different from one another? Gods, Ilkar, but if you weren’t an elf I wouldn’t be putting up with this.’

‘So do it for Ilkar alone,’ said The Unknown.

‘I am,’ said Hirad. ‘And Ren. And any elf I know that’s still alive back on Balaia. I would just like some recognition from this ungrateful bunch that we’re on their side and trying to help. Not too much to ask.’

‘They aren’t like us,’ said Denser. ‘You just have to accept that.’

‘That doesn’t make it all right, Denser.’ Hirad looked along the bench to where the Xeteskian sat with Erienne in his arms. ‘I’m not like them. Don’t see me being a tosser do you?’

‘Not yet, anyway,’ said Ilkar.

Hirad shrugged and rubbed at his unshaven chin, then at his legs. ‘Glad we’re out of the forest for a bit,’ he said. ‘What about you, Darrick?’

The Lysternan general looked around with pursed lips. ‘I was loving it,’ he said. ‘Nothing I enjoy more than being eaten from the inside.’

Hirad laughed, knowing the Al-Arynaar would look round. ‘It’s that pasty pampered cavalryman flesh of yours. I told you years ago you should have joined us.’

‘And then I’d have had to put up with boils and bites. How are yours, by the way?’

‘Very well, thanks,’ said Hirad.

‘There’s a serious point to be made here,’ said The Unknown in that voice none could ignore. ‘We’ve got a couple of days of relative calm now. We should use it. Mages should get as much sleep as possible, and the rest of us should look after ourselves as well as we can. Only ask for a spell if you’re getting sick. Agreed?’

Hirad looked over at Aeb, who occupied the back of the boat with them. The Protector had attracted no special interest from the Al-Arynaar. And that in itself was telling about how self-centred the temple defenders were. Someone of Aeb’s size and appearance got attention everywhere.

‘How’s the face, Aeb?’

The mask turned towards him, the eyes fixing him neutrally. ‘I am not inconvenienced.’

‘Good. So does that mean you’re clear of sores and bites or that they’re under control?’

‘I am not inconvenienced.’

‘Leave it, Hirad,’ said The Unknown. ‘It is Aeb’s business and he will seek assistance should he need it. That’s all you need to know.’

‘Whatever you say.’ Hirad was already bored despite the fact they’d only been on the boat a short time. ‘Hey, Thraun, you all right?’

The shapechanger had been silent since climbing the tree for the crossing of the River Ix. Hirad had watched him from time to time and there was no doubting his love of the rainforest. Thraun listened intently to the sounds and took pleasure in the creatures they encountered. He’d been the only one not surprised by the ClawBound communication and Hirad suspected he understood it.

What went on in that mind of his none of them could fathom. Darrick, who had taken on his blade training, had elicited almost nothing from him, and The Unknown, whom Thraun often shadowed closer than a Protector, couldn’t persuade him to talk. Despite his silence, however, his fighting instincts were clearly there and Hirad had total confidence in his ability to do the right thing. Something he didn’t yet have in Ren.

Thraun looked over and shrugged. His body was almost free of bites. Either the drink Rebraal made them worked particularly well for him or his skin retained its lupine toughness. Seeing he wasn’t going to get anything more, Hirad turned his attention to Ilkar, a smile returning to his face.

‘Hey, Ilks, your girlfriend all right, is she?’

He saw Ren stiffen where she sat in the prow, looking determinedly forward. Ilkar, though, needed no goading.

‘Drop it, Hirad,’ he warned, his ears pricking and reddening in irritation.

‘Just wanted to be sure everything was all right between you two, you know. I’d hate there to be bad feeling.’

‘Everything will be fine as long as you keep your nose out of it,’ said Ilkar. ‘Just leave it alone.’

‘You’re sure there’s nothing I can do to help?’

‘Besides throwing yourself over the side?’

‘Sorry I spoke,’ said Hirad.

‘As are we all,’ said Erienne. ‘Hirad, you can be such a child. You’re giving me a headache.’

‘Erienne?’ asked The Unknown.

‘It’s all right, thank you.’

The Unknown grabbed the scruff of Hirad’s jerkin and pulled him back, putting his mouth close to the barbarian’s ear.

‘We love your banter, Hirad,’ he said, ‘but sometimes silence is preferable to your incessant babble. Now is one of those times.’

Hirad shook himself loose, sat back up and looked round, seeing the warning in The Unknown’s face. ‘Roll on the estuary,’ he muttered.

It was two days before Hirad’s wish was granted.

Chapter 31

The Shorth Estuary was a confused conjugation of half a dozen channels feeding off the main river flow. The low-lying land had created a wide shallow swamp on the margin of which brackish water filtered into the silt-filled estuary, which was bordered by stunning waterfall-strewn cliffs. Far out beyond the estuary mouth, where the water ran deep, calm and sheltered, would lie the enemy ships.

The Raven had left their boats hidden well upstream and had been brought along the west bank of the Shorth to the edge of the dense rainforest where it merged into the largely open but mangrove-bordered swamp. Past it, the outflow to the estuary was just about visible.

‘This isn’t going to be easy,’ said Hirad.

Darrick concurred. He’d been imagining a wide shallow sand plain washed by tidal waters on which a battle could be organised and won by superior tactics. What he was faced with was his worst nightmare of close-quarters combat on uncertain and possibly deadly terrain. The only saving grace was that he had no horses with him. They would have been a pure encumbrance.

‘What do you think, Darrick?’ asked The Unknown.

Even though he shouldn’t have felt flattered by the question he was, but he’d not exactly been looking forward to answering it. With the Al-Arynaar spread out to cover the likely escape routes of any surviving runners and the fabled TaiGethen yet to make an appearance, The Raven were alone in the field and they were peerless tacticians.

‘The question is, what are the enemy thinking?’ said Darrick.

‘Is it?’ asked Denser. But The Unknown was already nodding, giving Darrick the confidence to carry on.

‘We’re making dangerous assumptions at the moment. Which is fine if the enemy either aren’t here or not expecting anyone. But not helpful at all if there are either more of them than we think, or they’ve been contacted and are already dug in and prepared.

‘Now we’re able to see the terrain we have to deal with we can ask the questions that need asking. What we know is that the enemy have, or had, mage support. Should we assume they have contacted the reserve and, if so, at what point? And then, what information could they have passed on and what is the likely response of the reserve?’

‘Right, assume this, then,’ said The Unknown. ‘They know the number of runners. They know how near they are and how fast they are. They also know the hunters are close behind and that they have to establish a safe perimeter beyond the open ground of the estuary itself. Any suggestions?’

‘Narrowest defensible point,’ said Hirad. ‘But where open space for the runners to cross is limited or at least covered by archer and mage fire.’

‘Correct,’ said Darrick. ‘See where the outflow begins between the cliff edges?’ He pointed to an area perhaps three hundred yards across. ‘It’s the most secure but it’s broken by the outflow and the larger channels. It can’t be completely spanned and any force would have to fragment to hold it.’

‘So why would they set their line there?’ asked Erienne.

‘Because if they come any further forward, the forest takes over and they can be outflanked far more easily. They need the cliff edges to secure their flanks. And because there can’t possibly be enough of them to hold a longer line. And to defend further seawards is pointless. The defenders will have their view of the swamp and forest edge disabled because there’ll be no flank view. And the flanks are where our runners are most likely to break cover.

‘There’s something else.’ Darrick smiled. ‘They might know a few TaiGethen are coming but there’s no way they can be aware that fifty swords and a few mages have come downstream. No way.’

‘So what?’ said Denser, looking around at the huge arc of forest that ten times fifty couldn’t hope to cover effectively.

‘So it gives me an idea.’

It was not long before the Al-Arynaar reported back that enemy forces were in place bordering the swamp area, so dispelling the vague anxiety that the runners had already been and gone. Without confirmation from TaiGethen or ClawBound about the position of any of the hunted, The Raven had to assume they could appear at any time.

After a great deal of debate, Darrick’s plan was put in place, though the former general had advised Rebraal to present it to the elves as his own. The Al-Arynaar scouts had been within thirty feet of the forward enemy positions and reported seventy swordsmen spread across the outlet to the estuary, backed by fifteen archers and what were assumed to be six mages. The elves were also confident that more strangers were positioned in deeper cover, less than Darrick had assumed but a threat nevertheless. The strangers were positioned much as expected, with good immediate fields of fire or open spaces to strike into, but Darrick had no intention of facing them on their own terms.

With the arrival of the TaiGethen imminent, Darrick had advised that to be sure of seeing and then stopping any of the runners, they should not spread their line too thin in an attempt to cover the impossible. So the Al-Arynaar and Raven were gathered in four groups – their boat groups – in an arc around the open area of the swamp looking both in and out.

The Raven and Rebraal were out on the left flank, as close as they dared to the enemy but in a position where none could circle them unseen. Al-Arynaar elves took up a similar position opposite them on the east bank with the other two groups closer to the Shorth, one on either bank. Darrick considered that the two flanking groups would be able to cut off runners from anywhere, while the central groups could take down any that came too close but, more importantly, would engage the reserve in the event of them being drawn out.

Tucked into position with nothing to do but wait, Hirad crouched at the end of The Raven line slightly apart from the rest to give him a view of the edge of the cliffs where they soared into the darkening sky and the ground between their position and the enemy line. Looking right, he could just about see Darrick, eyes everywhere, assessing whether he’d set everyone right and searching his mind for anything he’d missed. He was relying on the speed of response and the skill of the TaiGethen, and his lack of knowledge of them clearly worried him.

Behind Hirad, Thraun was looking back into the forest, his keen eyes as good as any elf’s, his ears tuned to the sounds around him, listening for any approach. The barbarian smiled. With his sword in his hand and The Raven poised around him, Hirad felt good.

He felt a prick in the side of his neck, sharp and deliberate. He moved his head, his eyes straining round. The blade of a dagger entered his vision. He raised a hand and began to turn his body slowly. His eyes moved up the hilt of the dagger, along the dark-garbed arm and up into a face painted in deep greens and browns. The elf behind the paint stared back with undisguised hatred, his whispered words conveying his intent though Hirad understood none of them.

He should have been scared, he knew, but instead he was impressed at the stealth that had brought the elf so close without any of them knowing. To cry out would probably be to die. He and half The Raven. The TaiGethen, and he assumed this was one, worked in threes, so Rebraal had said.

But they were not invincible. Hirad smiled.

‘I don’t know what you’re saying, my friend, but one thing you should know is that no Raven is ever alone.’

Thraun’s sword rested against the elf’s neck in turn. He stiffened and hissed, his eyes narrowing but never moving from Hirad. Sudden commotion from two sides and harsh whispered words stopped the situation developing any further. Two more elves came in from Hirad’s right as he sat, Rebraal and The Unknown from the left. Hirad pushed the blade of the dagger away.

‘Sheath it unless you intend to use it.’

The elf didn’t understand him either but he and Rebraal spoke quickly and urgently, the elf still with his gaze locked on Hirad.

‘These your famous TaiGethen, are they?’ asked Hirad.

‘Not now,’ warned The Unknown.

Ilkar had joined them and got Thraun to move his blade. At last the painted elf looked away and up at Rebraal. He snorted contemptuously and bent back towards Hirad, whispering something meaningful before moving silently away, taking his two colleagues with him.

‘Clever,’ said Thraun.

‘You’re lucky you’re not dead,’ said Ilkar.

‘So’s he,’ said Hirad. ‘Who is he?’

‘That’s Auum, leader of the TaiGethen. You don’t want to know what he was saying to you.’

Hirad shrugged. ‘No, I don’t. What I do want to know is, where are the runners?’

Ilkar put the question to Rebraal.

‘They’ve caught and killed another two groups of warriors further into the forest. That’s eleven men down altogether. There are others apparently on both banks but they haven’t a bead on any of them. This side, Auum says the strangers are travelling under magical obscurement of some kind. On the other, there’s someone he apparently respects for his forest skill but wants to skin for killing a ClawBound pair. Their guess is that both sets of men are close. More TaiGethen are crossing the river now. We shouldn’t have to wait too long.’

But they did. All the rest of that day and on into the night. It was a very uncomfortable vigil. They had no relief, they had no time to eat anything other than dried meat and they had to ignore the inevitable host of insects as best they could. In the heat, humidity and rain it was a test of stamina and endurance. The TaiGethen and ClawBound were combing the forest but had so far found nothing.

Leaving Thraun, Ren, Aeb and Rebraal watching in all directions as the light faded to nothing, The Raven talked.

‘It’ll happen under cover of darkness,’ said Darrick.

‘No reason why,’ said Ilkar. ‘They’ll know elves see just as well now as in daylight.’

Darrick tapped his head. ‘The reasons are all up here. Remember, they’re scared and tired. They want every advantage, real or perceived. ’

‘Think they’re in contact with this lot ahead?’ asked Hirad.

‘Impossible to say,’ said Darrick.

‘I doubt it,’ said Denser. ‘Communion’s a spell their mages can’t afford. It’s draining at the best of times. And thinking about how we were all beginning to feel just coping with the insect bites . . .’ He shrugged.

‘He’s right,’ said Ilkar. ‘And don’t forget, we’ve got one group apparently under some kind of moving illusion that’s good enough to confuse elves and panthers. That’s going to be one impressive spell.’

‘Why don’t they just come straight in?’ asked Erienne. ‘I mean, if that spell is so good, why are they worrying? Just wander up to the line and be safe.’

‘Good point, but I suspect it’s the terrain,’ said Darrick. ‘Splashing through that swamp will be like ringing warning bells, hidden by illusion or not.’

‘Right,’ said The Unknown. ‘Here’s what I suggest now.’

But he didn’t have time to impart his idea because, a hundred yards to their right, the swamp exploded into life. Footsteps rushed headlong through water, plumes of spray scattering in all directions. There was the deeper splash of thigh-deep water and, from the lines ahead, the odd voice raised in encouragement.

‘Raven!’ roared Hirad. ‘Raven with me!’

Hirad led The Raven out of cover, heading for their holding position on the left flank.

‘HardShield up,’ said Ilkar.

‘SpellShield active,’ said Erienne.

‘Keep watching that left flank,’ warned The Unknown.

‘On it,’ said Darrick.

‘Denser, we need that illusion pierced,’ said Hirad.

‘Way ahead of you,’ said the Xeteskian.

The Raven plunged into the swamp shallows, keeping their arc line as best they could in the heavy vegetation at its edge. Behind the hidden runners, the Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen were coming. The moon broke through the clouds, giving the swamp and forest an eerie luminescence; a multiple wailing pierced the air and Hirad saw the glint of metal in the sky. A panther roared, its voice taken up by a dozen more.

Denser came to a sudden stop, uttered a command word and shoved his arms out sharply. His ForceCone hammered away into the night, slapping into the roiling area of swamp where the runners had to be. Suddenly, men were visible, sprawling in the water, dragging themselves back to their feet. It hadn’t been an illusion. Some sort of multiple target CloakedWalk. But now it was gone and that was all the TaiGethen needed. With extraordinary speed, three of them cut through the swamp almost as if they were skating across the surface of the water. Blades glittered in the moonlight.

The shouts from the estuary entrance became louder and more urgent. The thrum of bowstrings was plain. Arrows arced across the sky, falling behind the runners, slicing into the swamp waters. After them came FlameOrbs, four pairs, their orange glows like dying suns, throwing shadows into sharp relief and lighting up the faces of the TaiGethen, who scattered instantly.

‘Ward!’ shouted Denser.

The Raven stilled. FlameOrbs spattered down on them, fizzing and crackling over Ilkar’s shield. It held. It always did.

In the afterglow of the spells, the runners saw their plight all too plainly. One threw a bag to another, the mage. He stood stock-still, desperately trying to cast. His three companions gathered in front of him as the TaiGethen tore into them. The first leapt high, left leg snapping out, taking his opponent in the chest. The man staggered back, sword swiping at empty air. The TaiGethen drove through his unbalanced guard, piercing his neck. The second and third elves flung jaqrui. They were knocked aside but their targets were distracted. With incredible swiftness, the TaiGethen blades whipped in. The expanding slick of blood was black in the moonlight.

ShadowWings sprouted at the mage’s back. He shot skywards, a laugh of relief on his lips. Jaqrui wailed after him, none finding its target. He turned in the air, flying for the enemy line.

‘Damn!’ yelled Hirad.

Behind him, a bowstring twanged. The arrow speared the mage between his shoulder blades. He juddered forward and shouted briefly, arms clawing reflexively at his back. His wings vanished and he fell, momentum taking him just beyond the swamp edge. No-man’s-land.