Текст книги "The Raven Collection"

Автор книги: James Barclay

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Текущая страница: 130 (всего у книги 235 страниц)

The TaiGethen joined battle, the enemy spacing allowing them two to a target. Auum flicked in a slash to the stomach which was blocked away, Duele carving towards the mask only to see the flat blade of an axe clatter against his sword, the sheer force knocking him momentarily off balance. Auum leapt, drop-kicking the enemy in the chest with both legs, forcing him to step back, but already the heavy axe was up and ready, the sword crashing down. Auum swayed right, deflecting the heavy blow, then skipped back a pace, narrowly avoiding a blow from the next Protector right. Duele mimicked Auum’s movement, an axe grazing his arm, tearing the leather.

Next to them, Evunn had the help of a ClawBound pair. He ducked a cross-swing from an axe, his blade licking up into his opponent’s body. Simultaneously, the panther leapt, clamping onto the sword arm in mid-swing and bearing it backwards. The Clawbound elf went for the man’s face, hardened nails clawing at the mask’s sides and teeth ripping at the eye slits. The Protector fell back, trying to push the elf away. His defence compromised, Evunn pierced his chest.

Auum checked in again, rolling under a sword thrust and whipping his blade up into the enemy’s thigh as he rose, his head crashing into the point of the man’s chin, snapping his head back. Duele saw his opportunity and roundhoused a kick to the Protector’s head. Auum slashed his throat, turning as the body dropped.

Across the line it was slow going. He saw one of the masked men decapitate an elf in front of him, and with the follow-up with his sword, thrash it through the chest of another. The Protector moved forward, another beside him deflecting a blow he had no right to reach, allowing him to carve his axe into the body of a third Al-Arynaar. There was no sound from them and they worked closely in concert, just like Rebraal had said. They would be overwhelmed but it would take time.

In the centre of the enemy, their key targets kicked at their horses and sprang away. Auum heard shouts and some of the horsemen broke off, turned and followed.

Auum called his Tai and raced off, gathering others to him. He whipped out another jaqrui, this one finding a gap in the shield net and thudding into the back of one of the rider’s heads. The cavalryman pitched from his horse.

‘Get the runners! Get the runners!’

Ahead of him arrows flew and elves sprinted on the chase. ClawBound joined them, the panthers snapping at the heels of cavalry horses, one cat leaping to snatch a trooper from his saddle and bear him screaming to the ground. But the key men were getting away.

The surviving Protectors curved in more sharply, blocking the elves’ route to the escaping Xeteskians, and around their flanks came the remains of the cavalry, swords held high, yelling war cries, their mounts thundering across the plain.

‘Arrows!’ yelled Auum, and he pulled another jaqrui from his belt pouch and flung it, seeing it miss its target as the rider ducked reflexively at the sound, hunching close over his saddle. ‘Tai, be sure.’

The horses were on them, eight riders crashing into the line of TaiGethen, the elves dodging, waiting for an opportunity to strike. From the sides, arrows came in, thudding into three of the horses, which grunted in pain but ran on. One rider was downed, tumbling forward and under the hooves of his mount.

Auum could all but feel the breath of the animal on him when he skipped right and slashed his sword high, taking his opponent in the leg. He turned to watch them halt and turn. Auum took off at a sprint, racing past battling elves and men and hearing the scream of a dying TaiGethen cut off abruptly. The rider had pointed his horse and was kicking it back into motion, holding his sword low this time and to his left, defending his wounded leg.

But Auum wasn’t interested in dodging this time. Going full tilt at the horse, he gauged the closing distance, leapt high, rolled in the air and arrowed in straight-legged, his feet catching the rider on the top of his head and catapulting him from the saddle. Auum landed rolling, coming up fast to finish the job, but there was no need. The broken angle of the still body told him everything.

He swung back to begin the chase after their main targets but could see immediately he was too late. Yelling in frustration, he turned to look for his Tai in the closing moments of the battle only to see a Protector impossibly close to him. He caught a glimpse of slashed mask and bloodied face behind it and an axe blade flashing towards him. He dived reflexively right, looking up to see the weapon coming at him again, head height. He raised his blade to block but knew it wouldn’t be enough.

A black shadow crossed his vision and a panther took the Protector at the neck. The axe came through, catching the animal’s hindquarters, shearing off a leg. It dropped to the ground dead, its ClawBound partner howling anguish. The bound-elf dived onto the prone enemy and stabbed straight-fingered again and again into his throat until it was nothing but bloody gore.

Auum placed a hand on the elf’s shoulder. Elsewhere, the fight was done, the Xeteskians disengaging and running; some escaping, others being cut down as they went, victims of sword, spell and arrow. The ClawBound’s howls split the air, his cries taken up by his brothers and their animals. The elf hugged his panther to him, smoothing its bloodied fur as ClawBound ran in from across the plain to mourn his loss.

‘I am sorry,’ said Auum. ‘That blade was meant for me.’

The elf looked up at him, paint streaked with his tears, eyes red and glistening. ‘It was vital you lived,’ he said, then he let his head drop in prayer. He would be buried with his panther.

Auum backed away and rejoined his Tai. The war was not yet won.

Tendjorn had been moved to command the Dordovan forces south of Xetesk and took it as a rebuke for his failure to lure the Xeteskians into an incursion across the River Dord. It had been a one-sided affair, he had lost far too many men and perhaps he was right to be shamed. The thought, though, did not improve his mood.

It was early evening, and in the camp between the south and north lines he was debating what to have for supper. He was bored with thick soups and stews and wondered if he could persuade some of the men to go out hunting deer. It was against regulations to leave the front but a forest two miles to the east was said to be home to a few. It could hardly hurt.

He was in charge of two hundred foot soldiers and mages spread thinly against an attack he didn’t believe would come; not now Lystern had joined the blockade. And they had been effective in reducing supply to Xetesk to a trickle at best. The Lysternan leader, Heryst, was engaged in diplomacy which Vuldaroq was determined would fail. And though part of Tendjorn wanted it to fail too, so he could avenge his earlier poor showing, most of him wanted to go home, put his feet up and continue his research.

Tendjorn ambled out of his command tent and wandered over to one of the perimeter guards to the south of the camp. The majority of his men were north, well dug in against a Protector force he knew was out there. But he had stationed as many as he could spare in his south-facing line because command said Xeteskian researchers were heading home and would try to break the blockade. He didn’t believe that either.

‘Anything to report?’

The guard saluted then smiled and shook his head. ‘Still nothing, sir.’

‘Have they checked in?’

‘A couple of hours ago, nothing to—’

FlameOrbs appeared in the sky perhaps three miles south, maybe less, quickly followed by the unmistakable sparkle of HotRain.

‘What on earth?’ he said. ‘Have we got anyone that far south?’

‘No, sir.’

‘The Lysternans?’

‘Not as far as I’m aware, sir,’ said the guard.

They watched for a while, seeing spell after spell crack across the sky, getting no nearer.

‘Get out to the first watcher,’ ordered Tendjorn. ‘Get me some information.’

‘No need,’ said the guard, pointing.

Someone was running towards them, arms flailing for balance, legs pumping hard at the coarse scrub-covered ground. He was shouting something unintelligible and seemed to be waving them away. Tendjorn stood where he was, a hand cupped to his ear.

‘I can’t hear you!’ he shouted, and beckoned him on. ‘Get closer.’

The man was screaming his words out. Tendjorn frowned. Someone else was shouting too, but from behind. The watcher got within earshot.

‘Protectors!’ he gasped. ‘Twenty-five, running this way. Bring in the defence.’

Tendjorn nodded and turned, running back towards the centre of the camp.

‘Captain, I need a defence south. Protector force coming this way. Twenty-five. Mages, FlameOrbs and DeathHail. Now move!’

But there was something else. While some ran to do the Captain’s bidding, more were running the other way, grabbing weapons from stands, other officers screaming orders, faces white with fear.

‘Gods, what is happening?’

Tendjorn hurried up to his north line, cresting a rise that looked out across a long plain. They had chosen this position as an ideal battlefield. Coming across it were more Protectors. A hundred more at least. They would have their battle.

‘Shit,’ he rasped. ‘Keep them back as long as you can. Beware our south! More coming from the south.’

He turned and ran back towards his tent. From the south line, the ring of steel and the crump of spells had begun. Tendjorn slipped inside the tent and lay back on his cot, trying desperately to calm himself enough for a Communion. Vuldaroq had better be receptive. Tendjorn didn’t have long to live.

Chapter 40

Hirad saw the bloom of spells above the treeline back to his right and urged his horse to greater speed, The Raven hard in his wake. Echoes of voices rose above the sporadic detonations, the battle itself hidden by forest and hill.

‘Running out of time, Raven!’ he called over his shoulder.

But they’d travelled as fast as they could. Keeping away from settlements of any size had been difficult enough and the route they’d taken had been made even less direct by their need to keep Aeb in the dark about their direction for as long as possible. Xetesk now knew their destination – that was a given – but in the lattice of valleys, crag formations and plains that made up the lands to the immediate east of the Blackthorne Mountains, it was easy enough to lose yourself if, like The Unknown and Darrick, you knew how.

It had worked thus far but now the hiding was over. Riding at the rear of the party, Aeb could sense Protectors close by. The Unknown and Darrick were at Hirad’s shoulders with Erienne, Ilkar and Denser in a line behind. Ren and Thraun rode just in front of Aeb.

The light was fading fast, the haloes of spells bright in the sky for a long time. Hirad felt a thrill as he hunched over his horse’s neck, The Raven with him, travelling fast over Balaian ground, heading for the fight. This was why he was alive.

They galloped up a very shallow slope, rounding a stand of trees that had somehow survived the elemental devastation of two seasons before, and saw it all mapped out before them. To the right, the elven army was tackling a Protector force augmented by mages and cavalry. The elves had been halted by the positioning of the experienced Xeteskian forces, which had allowed a group of over twenty-five to get away; they were charging north at a hard gallop.

Hirad swung north to give chase, The Raven following. They were perhaps a hundred yards behind and closing quickly enough to catch them before they hit the Dordovan lines. With any luck, they would be enough to stop them.

With a mile to go, spells flared into the night directly ahead and the distant roar of voices followed soon after. Hirad pushed harder still, eating up the distance. It didn’t take much to work out was what going on ahead but The Unknown confirmed it anyway.

‘Protectors backed by mage support,’ he shouted across to Hirad as they galloped. ‘I can feel them. So can Aeb.’

‘We’ve got to catch them fast.’ Hirad turned. ‘Ready, Ilkar?’

The Julatsan nodded, the SpellShield already formed, just waiting to be cast. Either side of him, Denser and Erienne prepared in time-honoured fashion. Hirad looked forward. They’d been seen.

‘It’s got to be now! Go Raven!’

Ilkar deployed the shield as weapons were hauled from scabbards and The Raven spread to a line, charging at the rear of the fleeing Xeteskians. Wings sprouted at Denser’s back and he left his saddle, plucking Erienne from hers, the two of them shooting forward, climbing high into the dusk sky, their horses following the chase, stirrups bouncing.

Ahead a group of cavalry swung back to face them. Denser tore down for Erienne to release FlameOrbs before arcing high towards the main body. The Xeteskian cavalry scattered from the approaching spell. It splashed onto a single rider, who died instantly with his horse in a deluge of flame.

Before they could reform, The Raven were on them. Hirad veered hard left and lashed out his sword, slicing into the chest of a cavalryman. The impact slowed him and he pulled back on the reins of his horse to keep from falling, dragging his blade back and hacking down through the man’s shoulder to finish the job. He pulled his horse round. Ren was trading blows but winning her battle, her quick strikes too much for the horseman who leaned away as he defended.

Further away, Aeb’s axe took the head from a horse and the rider plunged to the ground as the animal collapsed. Thraun was riding a wide circle, followed by a pair of riders. Hirad set off after them, roaring a call. He jumped a fallen horse, saw The Unknown with Ilkar, defending the mage easily from a clumsy attack, and drove into the flanks of the pair chasing Thraun. Letting go his reins, he leaned out and smashed his fist into an enemy face, feeling the cheek crack under the force of the blow, then raised his sword. The rider saw it coming, recovered to block but fell from his horse nonetheless.

Thraun had turned. He rode in hard, blond hair flowing behind him. Raven coming from either side, the Xeteskian turned and fled.

‘Let him go!’ shouted Hirad. ‘Raven! Raven with me!’

The regrouped Raven galloped away to resume the chase. Hirad could see Denser coming in from a great height, diving incredibly fast at the knot of Xeteskians who were now two hundred yards distant. Behind the group, three horses and riders wheeled to a stop. Mages.

Erienne released a blanket of HotRain to force a change of direction in the main group. Denser soared back into the sky. Hirad watched them go, saw Denser veer sharply right, dip suddenly as if hit, right himself temporarily then crash in a heap from a height of ten feet or more.

‘Thraun, Darrick! Defend them.’

The two men broke from the group and charged away to the fallen Raven mages as enemies closed in around them. Hirad erased unbidden thoughts from his mind and carried on north, finding himself riding through the evidence of a very recent massacre. Tents burned, fires were scattered everywhere, the bodies of men lay twisted and broken, their brutal wounds the type only Protectors could inflict.

With The Unknown and Aeb right beside him and Ilkar behind, the shield still holding, he charged up a short rise, plunged down the other side to continue the chase and found a wall of Protectors blocking their path.

He hauled hard on the reins, his horse slewing to a stop with an angry grunt as the bit sawed at its jaws. Beyond the Protectors, their quarry galloped on into safety. He stared at the blank faces in front of him, sensing The Unknown and Aeb riding to his sides, Ilkar and Ren behind.

There had to be close on a hundred of them. Hirad felt the sweep of reverence like a breeze across his face. The Protectors were facing Sol, who had almost God-like status among them. And there with him, Aeb, the Protector who was about as close to a rebel as any of the calling could get.

Hirad knew they weren’t going to be attacked. He laid his blood-spattered blade across his saddle and turned to The Unknown.

‘Can’t you make them move?’ He eyed the crescent line. They were not going to be able to simply ride around.

‘No,’ said The Unknown flatly. ‘They should be killing us but they won’t bear arms against me or Aeb. They will stop us following though.’

‘Damn, but we were so close to them,’ said Hirad. The sound of hoof beats had faded and a curious silence had fallen. Hirad was at a loss. ‘So what do we do?’

‘I don’t know,’ said The Unknown. ‘But their support mages must be close. We shouldn’t delay here too long.’

And then Aeb spoke.

‘We do not seek to harm Xetesk’s sons,’ he said, addressing the Protectors aloud presumably for The Raven’s benefit.

There was a ripple in the line but none spoke, the masks staring back impassive. Aeb continued.

‘We seek a fragment of a statue taken by Captain Yron. The elves will die without it.’

‘Aeb, enough,’ said The Unknown, and to the Protectors: ‘Xetesk is wrong to have taken it. Please. If there is anything you can do, help us recover it. A whole race depends upon it, not a few hundred lives. And do not speak Aeb’s words in the Soul Tank. You know where it might lead. They were my words. Let it be so. We are one.’

‘We are one,’ murmured the rank of Protectors, and Hirad felt the completeness of their union.

He looked left towards the sounds of shouting and horses. Four men, cloaks flying, were riding their way.

‘Time to go,’ he said. ‘We need to find the others.’

‘Incoming,’ said Ilkar distantly.

Fire flared over the SpellShield, venting harmlessly across its surface and into the ground.

‘Our Given mages are close,’ said a Protector from the middle of the line.

‘Too close,’ said The Unknown. ‘We wait.’

‘What?’

‘Trust me. They’ll need some administrative guidance, as Ilkar calls it.’

The quartet of mages cantered up, riding between The Raven and the Protectors.

‘Why aren’t you attacking them?’ one of them screamed at the Protectors. ‘Why aren’t they dead?’

‘Because I am here,’ said The Unknown. His voice was quiet but carried total authority. Hirad felt a shiver along his spine. ‘And they will not strike me.’

‘Ah, The Unknown Warrior,’ said one, turning to them. ‘They can protect you but you cannot protect them.’

‘That is true,’ said The Unknown evenly, taking the quartet in with his slow stare, a slight and dangerous smile on his face. ‘But if a single one of these men is subjected to punishment for his actions today, I will know. And then your lives, all of them, will be forfeit.’

It was why Hirad loved him. He didn’t have to shout or posture. He just had to speak and people listened and, more important, they believed.

‘They have prevented us catching those we want,’ said The Unknown. ‘Their task is therefore successfully completed and that is enough. Are we clear?’

Almost as one, the mages nodded. Hirad almost laughed.

‘We’ve done what is required,’ said one. ‘We can leave it at that, I think.’

‘Good answer,’ said Hirad.

They watched while the Xeteskians wheeled and trotted away, the Protectors following them in close guard.

‘It’s what the Master wants,’ said Aeb suddenly.

‘I beg your pardon?’ asked The Unknown.

‘For the elves to die,’ explained Aeb. ‘It is more than he dreamed of.’

‘How do you know that?’ asked Hirad.

‘The Soul Tank knows it,’ said Aeb.

‘Think we’ve got a good deal to talk about tonight,’ said Hirad. ‘Come on, let’s go and find the others.’

The Raven rode into the dusk.

Heryst was surprised at Vuldaroq’s calm as he joined Communion.

‘Vuldaroq, I’m sorry,’ began Heryst.

‘What did I tell you?’ Vuldaroq said. ‘Gods burning, I warned you. He lies to us all. He played you for time, pure and simple. Kept you off your guard and from formal military alliance. It is I who should be sorry. Sorry that your ideals, naive though they are, are misguided. The research is through and on its way to Xetesk and there is nothing we can do about it. Now will you join me and save our country?’

‘What do you intend to do?’ Heryst felt so weary. He’d clung to hope and yet Vuldaroq was right. He had been taken for the fool he was.

‘We have to strengthen our defences south of Lystern, we have to block any route to Julatsa and we have to abandon the southern blockade to do it. And when we are assembled, we will march on Xetesk.’

It was a nightmare, pure and simple. Everything that Heryst had sought to avoid was coming to pass. Everything he feared for Balaia would happen. The war would engulf them all. He had failed. Dystran wanted dominion; he had to be stopped and war was the only way.

‘I will issue the orders to Izack and my field commanders immediately. ’

‘We have battle plans,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘You must fight to our design. You must let Dordover run this war as we have been for a season now.’

Heryst would have said no but Darrick wasn’t here to improve Dordover’s plans. And Heryst was not a student of the military.

‘I will grant you overall field command but I will not have my forces committed to suicide. There will be discussion on the ground at every front.’

‘Of course,’ said Vuldaroq.

‘One thing I want to make very clear, Vuldaroq. This war must not go so far as to destroy Xetesk. This country needs magical balance and so it needs the Dark College. This war removes Dystran and the current Circle Seven and nothing more. Do I make myself clear?’

‘I had planned for nothing more,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘You won’t regret this.’

‘I don’t doubt that I will,’ said Heryst.

He broke Communion and put his head in his hands. Lystern was at war with Xetesk.

Selik stood on the ramparts of the Understone garrison and looked down over the army assembled before him. The sun was warming the earth from a clear blue sky and a gentle breeze ruffled his cloak. Men, women and youths from two dozen towns and villages were standing looking up at him. Refugees scattered across the land had come to his side to avenge what had been done to them.

Most of them were tradesmen or farmers. There was a scattering of militia and soldiers but the vast bulk of the estimated two thousand seven hundred would be holding swords in anger for the very first time. Some would run, others would be heroes and many would die. That was the way of war. He scanned the pinched and hungry faces, the eyes looking to him for leadership, for a way out of their darkness. They had come to the right man.

‘My friends,’ he said, his voice loud, carrying across the silence. ‘You are all standing here because the time has come to right a great wrong. The time has come to win back the land of Balaia for its God-given people. To take it from the mages who destroy it so casually. To make it pure again.

‘Because make no mistake, our land is riddled with the disease of magic and only the righteous can purge that disease. And I am looking at the righteous here and now.’

A great roar erupted from the crowd below, fists and weapons punched the air. Selik held up his hands for quiet.

‘You have all seen the war spread. It has torn down our peaceful towns and is destroying our beloved land. And now it is our turn to strike. Last night Lystern joined the war, as we knew they would. Even those who preach peace have betrayed us now. What more evidence do we need that, if we let it, magic will kill us all? So we will join the war. We will fight on one front only and that front will be Xetesk.’

A murmur ran through the crowd.

‘They are the dark heart of magic and they must be thrown down. And once the surviving colleges see our power and the righteousness of our fight, they too will fall before us. We are on a march to victory. Nothing can stop us.’

Another roar.

‘My friends, this is a great day to be a Balaian. Return to your commanders, strap on your swords and prepare to march!’

Selik turned to face Devun, a smile broad across his ruined features.

‘It’s finally happening, my friend. What Travers began a decade and more ago, I will finish. When will you reach your positions south of Xetesk?’

‘Three days, Captain.’

‘Excellent. I will join you in the field as soon as I can. There are more reserves coming in and I need to be here for a while yet. Meanwhile, you know the plans and the people trust you. It’s beautiful isn’t it?’

‘Sir?’

‘Light will dawn on a new order, an order not dominated by the evils of magic. We will all live outside the veil of fear. We are the righteous.’

‘So what happened to you last night?’ said Hirad to Denser as they rode from their camp the following morning, heading to the west of Xetesk, aiming to throw any pursuit off the scent.

‘Some of their mages were sharp. As we flew in to drop the HotRain, I could see them casting. I veered away when Erienne cast but got clipped by the edge of a ForceCone. The jolt knocked my concentration all to pot and it was all I could do to hang on to the shape until a few feet from the ground. We were lucky.’

‘That’s what you call luck, is it?’

‘Could have been DeathHail. Then we wouldn’t be riding with you at all. As it was, I managed to get my legs under me as we landed but I was going way too fast.’

‘Bad moment,’ said Hirad. ‘How’s Erienne?’

‘Well the arm’s not broken but it’s sore. It’s a good job we’re a couple of days from more action or she’d have trouble casting.’

Hirad was silent for a moment. He didn’t feel in control of the situation and that made him uneasy. There were too many variables. Too much to go wrong.

‘Are you happy with this hare-brained scheme we cooked up last night?’ he asked.

Denser shrugged. ‘I don’t really see any alternative. If we’re going to try and snatch Yron, then we have to have accurate information on his location in the college or we’ll fail before we start.’

‘But Aeb . . .’

‘I know,’ said Denser. ‘It’s just a matter of time before he’s found out and he knows that. But he’s the only one who can talk to the Soul Tank and get us what we need. Other Protectors are going to risk themselves too. Funny, isn’t it? All these years and then you find Protectors have a collective conscience.’

‘Yeah, and all these years and we find they’re actually so vulnerable. ’

‘I suppose, but none of them have ever gone against Xetesk before, so a punishment for that crime has never even been considered. ’ Denser paused and looked across at Aeb, who rode between him and The Unknown. ‘We could still get away with it though. With the war escalating every day, rescinding the Act of Giving for one Protector isn’t going to be top of anyone’s agenda.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘Xetesk have more important things to worry about. Lystern have been forced into the war alongside Dordover and that changes the balance against them. Blackthorne will be in Lystern in a couple of days to effectively pledge baronial support. Rebraal is going there too and the elves will be fighting alongside the other colleges. It’s nasty out there.’

‘I can’t quite believe Dystran wants what Aeb says he does,’ said Hirad. ‘It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Like I said, no elves, no Julatsa,’ said Denser. ‘But we’ve got to be focussed, not get caught up in the war. For us, saving Ilkar and Ren is all that matters.’

Hirad chuckled. ‘So strange. Remember when we first met?’

‘You wanted to kill me.’

‘Sorry about that.’

‘No offence taken,’ said Denser, smiling.

‘I hated you. So did we all. But now, a few years down the line, you’ll attack your own college to save Ilkar.’

Another shrug. ‘He’s Raven. That’s all there is to it.’