Текст книги "The Raven Collection"

Автор книги: James Barclay

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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 235 страниц)

Chapter 23

It was, Ilkar reflected as The Raven rode towards the City of the Dark College, the only viable route to a solution. Yet somehow he’d convinced himself that the Masters would be able to issue instructions to Denser remotely.

Understandably, Denser looked calm and happy. There was something undeniably comforting about returning to your College. It was like going back to the welcoming arms of your family. But watching the Dark Mage chatting easily to Erienne as they rode ahead of him, he couldn’t help but feel there was more to his high spirits than his imminent return home.

Xetesk wasn’t far. None of the Colleges was far from each other. When they had set off, they had a little over two days’ ride ahead of them. Now they were no more than half a day from the closed City, and so much was still to be straightened out.

At least the Dordovan chase had been called off. Denser, following another communion, had confirmed that a four-College meeting had been called at Triverne Lake. The secret of Dawnthief would soon be out.

But there was going to be trouble at the gates of Xetesk. Plenty of it.

Will had refused point-blank to enter the City and wouldn’t even ride near Denser and the Familiar. He was still shaking slightly; his nerves – his lifeline – had not recovered and yet the nightmares with which he was plagued worried him less than the grey which flecked his hair.

And Hirad. Hirad didn’t want the two catalysts entering the City but he hadn’t informed Denser of this. His view was that they might need some bargaining power, and Ilkar was inclined to agree. As for Denser himself, he was curiously tight-lipped. Brooding on something he’d heard in communion.

Ilkar, for his part, was just plain scared. He’d never visited Xetesk – few Julatsans had – but he knew he’d have to go in. And so would Erienne. What Jandyr and Thraun – now back in human form but still tired – thought, he couldn’t guess. Confusion, probably. And wishing they hadn’t bumped into The Raven, certainly. Only Erienne had a smile on her face, and for some reason he couldn’t fathom, that worried him. Much of the time they rode in silence, keeping to the main trails now they were free of pursuit, but still wary.

Ahead of Ilkar, Hirad, who had done little but stare at The Unknown and glare at Denser, was finally talking to the latter. Ilkar urged his horse forwards, anxious to hear what was being said.

‘. . . I haven’t given up on you, Denser. I just want to know where you stand.’

‘I’m not sure I follow.’

‘I mean do you align with The Raven or with your masters?’

Denser thought for a moment. ‘If you’d asked me that a week ago I’d have been firmly with Xetesk, the way I was when I met you. But now there’s no definite answer – wait, before you say anything, let me explain.

‘What I believe is that Balaia faces disaster if we don’t recover Dawnthief and use it to destroy the Wytch Lords. In this, I agree with my master that The Raven was, and still is, the most likely route to success.

‘But as regards Sol, they have misled me, betrayed your trust and beliefs and so damaged our chances severely. I cannot forget that, because it was a conscious decision to send him and I’m not sure I buy the story that we were the subject of an experiment.’

‘Meaning?’ Hirad frowned.

‘Meaning someone there has a vested interest in my – our – failure.’

‘But—’ Hirad was at a loss. ‘But if we fail—’

‘Not everyone in Xetesk accepts the threat from the Wytch Lords needs to be met with the casting of the spell, but everyone wants Dawnthief to be found. There is a power struggle going on in the Mount, and ownership of Dawnthief will end it. I’m sure Ilkar would be happy to tell you that in Xetesk, Mount politics cloud every decision.’

‘All right.’ Hirad tried to sort things out in his mind. He rubbed his nose with thumb and forefinger. ‘So who sent you out in the first place?’

‘My master, Nyer.’

‘Well, that’s something I suppose, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Denser. ‘And it is he I talk to in communion and who has warned me of potential danger inside the City.’

‘So what’s the problem? Won’t he protect you?’

‘Possibly. But it was he who sent Sol to us. Look, I think we’d better all stop and talk before we go any further.’

Hirad nodded. They rode off the trail a short distance and Will set up the stove.

‘Xetesk is a very different City to Dordover,’ said Denser, once a cup of coffee was in his hands.

‘I bloody hope so,’ muttered Thraun.

Denser ignored him. ‘Not only does my presence not guarantee our safety, in certain circles it will invite trouble. Dawnthief and the Wytch Lords have caused a split of opinion as wide as Understone Pass. We must have a strong bargaining position and this is what I suggest.

‘I have to go to the Mount with Sol, and to give us the best chance of fair treatment, Ilkar and Erienne should be with me. As a three-College party and with representatives already in Xetesk, we should be all right. You two?’

‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,’ said Erienne, smiling at him. He smiled back.

‘Agreed.’ Ilkar was less than enamoured to hear the confirmation of his fear.

‘And as for the rest of you, the good news is that I think you should stay well away from Xetesk,’ said Denser.

‘But the bad news is you want us to guard the catalysts while we’re at it,’ said Hirad. Denser nodded. ‘Good. I wondered whether you’d see sense.’

‘So did I,’ muttered Ilkar.

‘Well, we all harbour misconceptions, don’t we, Ilkar?’ said Denser shortly.

‘If that’s what you want to call them,’ replied Ilkar with equal cool.

‘You know, I thought we were really coming to a meaningful understanding.’ Denser sighed.

‘On the occasions we have had to work together, the situation has been successfully resolved.’ Ilkar chose his words with care.

Denser shook his head and pursed his lips. ‘What hurts me is that we have really suffered together. Do all those hours with the Black Wings mean nothing? Or our fight to keep Hirad alive? What else do I have to do to prove that I am different from your image of me?’

‘Bring The Unknown out alive. Really alive. Then I’ll believe. Until then, I can’t forget where you were schooled and what that has meant for countless hundreds of years.’

‘Julatsa!’ Denser threw up his arms, got up and moved away, spilling what was left of his coffee. ‘You look forward with both feet planted firmly in the past. You know something? Around this stove it’s you who everyone sees has the closed mind and the chilled heart. I make no secret, Ilkar, that I respect and like you despite your College ancestry. I think I deserve the same treatment from you. Shall we ask what the others think? Shall we?’

Ilkar said nothing, just stared back, impassive.

‘This is a fascinating debate I’m sure,’ said Thraun. ‘But tell me, is it how the Triverne Lake meeting will proceed? If it is, we might as well all fall on our swords now, because you’ll still be bickering when the Wytch Lords stroll in and take your precious Cities.’

Denser and Ilkar looked at him as if he’d spat in their dinners.

‘It won’t be far off the level of debate, I can assure you,’ said Erienne before either could reply. ‘It’s getting us nowhere, and there’s something else I think we’d all like to know: what exactly will this meeting achieve?’

‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’ Denser frowned.

‘No, it is not,’ said Erienne. ‘If Xetesk is as split as you suggest, then the message you bring to the table will be confused and likely to cause further division.’

‘No.’ Denser shook his head. ‘It won’t be confused. The Lord of the Mount is delivering our message personally. The College delegates already accept the threat, and Dawnthief is the only solution.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ she said.

‘So do I. We mustn’t lose the four-College co-operation or any force will be too weak and the Wesmen will sweep us into the eastern seas.’

‘Cheerful, isn’t he?’ said Hirad.

‘Getting back to the reason we all stopped,’ said Jandyr. ‘What is the risk to us outside Xetesk?’

‘To be honest, I’m not sure,’ said Denser. ‘I’ve been away a while and I don’t know the strength of those who want Dawnthief for themselves. However many, they’ll be dangerous if they discover your location.’

‘And you’re leaving us without any magical protection,’ said Hirad.

‘But not out of contact,’ replied Denser. ‘The Familiar will stay with you much of the time.’

‘You are joking,’ said Jandyr. He was sitting next to Will, who stared at Denser in mute disbelief.

‘I—’ began Denser, then saw Will. He sighed. ‘It’s the only way to cover all the angles.’

‘After what he did to me, you can even suggest this?’ It was the first time Will had spoken all day.

‘I’m sorry for what happened, Will,’ said Denser. ‘But he didn’t actually do anything to you.’

‘You call this nothing?’ Will’s voice rose to a shout. He pointed at his greying hair. ‘And this?’ He lifted a spread hand, palm downwards. It trembled. ‘This is your nothing, Denser. Without my nerves, I am nothing. Your bastard creation has ruined me.’

Denser regarded Will for some moments.

‘I understand your fear, but it will pass. Talk to Erienne, understand its nature. It will not harm you.’

‘With you here, I believe it is under control. In your absence – well, I have seen the results.’ Will drew up his legs and hugged them to his chest.

‘It will not harm you,’ repeated Denser.

‘Accepting that,’ said Jandyr into the silence that followed, ‘I understand that it can communicate with you, but how does it do so with us?’

‘Someone will have to agree to see him,’ said Denser. ‘For whatever reason, he seems to regard Hirad as acceptable company.’

Ilkar sniggered.

‘The feeling is barely mutual,’ growled Hirad.

‘Do you consent?’ asked Denser.

Hirad shrugged.

‘Don’t,’ said Will.

‘I really don’t have too much choice, do I?’

‘Good,’ said Denser. ‘Come with me. Introductions have to be made.’

‘One more thing.’ Thraun stopped them. ‘Where will we hide?’

‘I know a place,’ said Denser.

The darkness suited her, and with her keen sight picking out pitfalls in front of her feet, Selyn began making her way towards the once dead and now apparently resurgent city of the Wytch Lords.

With night falling on the Torn Wastes, the scale of the Wesmen encampments was hidden, but the firelight and noise of laughter, talking, shouting and fighting; of dogs barking and wind flapping canvas, all served as reminders of her precarious position.

But they were clearly preparing to leave. Before the light had failed completely, she’d made a rough count of the tents she could see, surmised a total to encircle Parve, added the number of Wesmen she’d seen marching away from the Torn Wastes two days before and multiplied it by a likely number of occupants per tent that still remained. Twenty thousand. And that was probably conservative. Call it twenty-five thousand. She’d shivered. That took the total number of Wesmen way past eighty thousand. And they were clearly once again servile to the Wytch Lords.

It was now merely a question of when the Wytch Lords could take significant part in the impending invasion. Too soon, and the Colleges would merely become the wavefront for the tide that would wash eastern Balaia into the Korina estuary. It was a question to which she had to find the answer, quickly.

Selyn dropped to her haunches behind a large lichen-covered boulder. She was a little over halfway to the first buildings of Parve, and already the smell of fear was invading her nostrils.

Low, dark cloud moved slowly overhead, lit by myriad fires, but none burned more brightly than the six beacons that ringed the top of the pyramid housing the shattered remains of the Wytch Lords’ bodies.

Now, the folly of her Xeteskian predecessors could be seen for what it had become. Built by Xetesk and sealed by its magic, the pyramid had represented a warning to any who challenged the might of the Dark College. But now, with their mana cage empty, it merely served as a focus for the growing power of the Wytch Lords, and the massing of their acolytes and soldiers. She shook her head. Overconfidence and ultimate arrogance. Not traits shared to such a degree by the current Lord of the Mount, but he would surely suffer for their presence in those who had gone before him.

She looked over and to either side of the boulder. A stand of seven tents, lit inside and out, was directly in front of her, no further than three hundred yards away and ringing a large fire. Wesmen stood, sat, crouched or lay in the light of the flames, making silhouettes of bulking shoulders, powerful frames and bull heads that filled her vision.

To her left, a similar encampment, this one hosted by a Shaman. She could not risk running into the mind-sight of one of them. Right, the tents stretched into the dark, the noise of thousands filling the air with a restless energy.

Looking away towards Parve, she assessed her options and found she had none. Her principal problem was that the mana drain for a CloakedWalk of such distance might not leave enough for communion. But considering the sprawl of enemies in her path, she knew it was a chance she simply had to take.

She gathered herself, formed the simple mana shape, spoke the single command word and started running.

Hirad studied the cat lying curled asleep in his lap, breathing fast and shallow. With eyes and mouth closed, the black was so complete you could lose yourself in its depths. Hirad shuddered. How different to the beast Denser had shown him. Even prepared, he had found it hard to keep looking as the demon’s eyes bored into his face from inside its pulsating skull. And, try as he might, he had flinched when it had placed a clawed hand on his arm and spoken his name.

Will’s terror had been so easy to understand, then. Already scared half witless by his journey through the Dordovan crypt, to see this thing in all its hideous glory would have been too much for most men.

It wasn’t just the look, though. A look you could get used to, however awful. There was something else. In demon form, the Familiar exuded an aura of contempt, as if it was only there on a whim and could break out at any time and do anything.

The sound of a door opening brought Hirad to himself. Jandyr walked in.

‘What do you think?’ asked Hirad.

‘Of this place?’

‘Yes.’ Denser had brought them to a farm some three hours outside Xetesk before riding immediately for the College City with Ilkar, Erienne and Sol. It was a working property, sprawling across several dozen acres and providing meat and cereal crops for nearby villages.

The house itself stood apart from the collection of barns and outbuildings, but all were clustered in the centre of the farm’s land. In every direction, the ground undulated gently away, giving clear vision for a good six hundred paces before a stand of trees or a low hill obscured what was beyond.

Denser and Evanson, the farmer, were clearly on good terms, and though Hirad had initially opted for a barn, the farmer insisted they stay in the house.

‘It’s more comfortable for one thing, but more important, it keeps you out of sight of my workers. Village locals all of them, and none would keep their mouths shut if they saw you.’ Evanson was middle-aged, with a face deep russet brown and wrinkled from long exposure to the elements. He had huge hands and powerful shoulders that bulged inside his loose shirt. His eyes sparkled from beneath his brow and his mouth was set in a smile. There was plenty about him to remind Hirad of Tomas back at The Rookery.

So they had agreed to stay in the house, and it was certainly a cosy option. Two storeys high, the building had beds enough for all of them to enjoy a little privacy. The range in the kitchen maintained a pot of hot water and food on demand, and with enough rest to let the adrenalin levels sink, all of them discovered a deep tiredness. Consequently, there had been little action save for some gentle snoring and a round or two of cards.

‘I think several things,’ said Jandyr. ‘It’s easy to defend. We have clear vision, plenty of warning and these beds are sent straight from paradise.’

Hirad smiled and lay back, arms supporting his head. ‘My thoughts too. Where are the others?’

‘Will’s asleep and Thraun is reading one of Evanson’s books. He’s assembled quite a library.’

‘Tell me about Thraun,’ said Hirad. To him, shapechangers had been figures of myth. Until now. Now he had seen with his own eyes, and he didn’t know whether to be scared, disgusted or amazed.

Jandyr nodded. ‘It is something he tries so hard to hide.’

‘How did it happen?’ asked Hirad.

‘It’s a hangover from old Dordovan spell research. Thraun is descended from mages who tried to enhance their strength, agility, eyesight, hearing, whatever, by blending themselves with the essence of animals. For Thraun’s forebears, it was strength and speed, hence the wolf shape.’

‘But . . .’

‘I know what you’re going to say,’ said Jandyr. ‘The problem was that they didn’t understand what they were doing. So rather than enhance what they already had, they replaced it. Some lived out their lives as the animals they used. Others found they could control it and the knowledge was passed down through the generations.’

‘Why won’t he talk about it?’ Hirad had seen the benefits, the power and the speed.

‘Because of how people view him,’ replied Jandyr. ‘There are enough who think all shapechangers are abominations whose lines should be stopped by death to make him scared to admit what he is.’ Jandyr rose. ‘Look, you have to understand that Thraun is a man like any of us. But he has another side he would rather not have. He is not to be feared, more to be pitied. Just treat him like a man. It is all he wants.’

‘I understand,’ said Hirad.

‘None of us can ever truly do that,’ said Jandyr.

Denser opened his door in response to the soft knocking. He didn’t consider a threat – with Sol guarding the corridor for all of their rooms, he didn’t need to. Anyway, he knew who it was.

So there she stood, and the first thought that rose in his mind was that, cleaned of all the grime of the trail and wearing soft, loose fabric, she was, as he had thought since he had first laid eyes on her, very attractive.

His groin stirred, unbidden, and he suppressed a smile. He wondered if she could read his face. He would enjoy this. He pushed the door wide.

Erienne swept into his room, smiling. ‘Tonight I will conceive.’ Her face was turned away from him, her voice emotionless.

He chuckled. ‘Is that really all it is to you?’

‘We made a deal. This is the payoff of that deal. What else could there be?’ But her smile betrayed her words.

Denser closed the door and moved towards her, his eyes tracing the shadow of her body beneath her white robe as it flickered in the candlelight.

‘It may be that the payoff of the deal could be pleasurable to you,’ he said, eyes sparkling, pupils dilated.

‘That isn’t why I struck the deal,’ she said quickly. ‘But things do, um, develop.’ Denser saw her face colour.

He stood close to her now. She didn’t move away.

‘I did it because I respect your skill as a mage.’

‘And my power,’ added Denser.

At last she turned to him. ‘That’s the main reason I chose you instead of Ilkar.’

‘Ilkar, he . . .’

‘He is certainly more handsome than you.’ She was smiling again.

Denser stood squarely in front of her. ‘But Ilkar’s an elf !’

‘Yes, and a Julatsan. Two more reasons I favour your seed.’ The smile broadened and softened her face to beauty.

‘Well, I’m flattered my College is so much more attractive to you,’ said Denser.

‘Lucky, more like, or I could be standing in front of Ilkar now.’

‘Not short on self-confidence, are you?’ He placed a hand on her cheek, cupping her face as she leaned into it.

‘It covers the emptiness,’ she whispered. She pushed a hand through his hair, smoothing it down his neck.

‘Do you still hurt inside?’ asked Denser.

‘Like a knife is twisting through my heart.’

‘Tonight, I want to stop that.’ His voice was barely audible as he moved his lips to her ear. ‘Together, we can make you whole again.’

She grabbed his face in both hands and looked deep into his eyes, searching for lies. She found none and felt tears well up.

‘What’s wrong?’ Denser asked.

‘Nothing.’ She kissed him gently and he let his tongue whisper across her lips. Her hands moved to the back of his head and his arms caught her about her waist, crushing them together.

The kiss gained intensity, their tongues meeting, exploring mouths, heads moving, breath drawn in hard. Hands searched. He felt hers trail to his neck, where they kneaded and pressed before moving down to his chest to pick at the buttons of his shirt.

She was wearing a simple white shift, clasped at the shoulder. He found the fastening, fumbled briefly, and snapped it open, hearing her gasp involuntarily as the shift dropped soundlessly to the floor. Beneath it she was naked. Denser’s arousal was complete. He walked her to the bed and laid her down, straddling her body on hands and knees and looking down at her face and at her breasts, which were moving in rapid response to her breathing.

He cupped one in his hand, feeling the nipple harden.

‘You didn’t want to waste any time,’ he remarked.

‘No. And I still don’t.’ She grabbed at his belt and the button of his fly, and while she hauled his trousers down over his hips, Denser pulled his shirt over his head. Together, they added his trousers to the pile of discarded clothing.

She took his penis in one hand and guided it towards her, Denser looking down at the hair between her legs, which was as dark as her skin was pale. She moved her legs apart and he responded, moving his inside hers and leaning down to her. His mouth was on her breast as he entered her, and as he began to move inside her, the clamour of the mana swept him away.

Shafts of blue light shattered before his eyes as he pushed himself fully inside her. The trails they left spread away, flickering and dying, absorbed by the warm orange pulsing all around Erienne.

She felt smooth but he barely noticed as, with each gentle thrust, the mana poured around him in ever darker tendrils, catching and mixing with the Dordovan strain. The sight was so beautiful it took his breath away, and as Erienne began to move with him, it took his rhythm too.

‘Don’t stop,’ she whispered, and he picked it up once more.

To Erienne, it was a mana-meld miracle. She could feel his hand on her breast, his lips on her neck and his movement inside her, confident and sensual. She held herself in check, denying herself orgasm as she watched their manas weave while the colours became indistinct, ultimately forming a cocoon of softly pulsating deep mauve.

Now the conditions were ideal. Denser’s thrusts were more urgent, his tempo increasing, and she felt him deeply, her legs and back tingling and numbing with pleasure.

She reached a hand down to cup his testicles, his breath hissing out suddenly against her shoulder. She moved her pelvis with him, swift but controlled, bringing herself to the point of orgasm.

Above her, Denser moaned as he approached climax. His penis hardened further, delighting her with its touch, and they came together in an explosion of mana light. The cocoon disintegrated, sending rainbow teardrops splashing around them. Erienne cried out in pleasure and triumph. Denser pushed hard once more then stopped moving, still deep inside her.

She placed a hand low on her stomach and probed down with her mana to warm the semen, to keep them alive and to imbue them with the beginnings of the power her child would possess.

Denser lifted his head and looked down at her. Erienne smiled, put her hands either side of his face and kissed him.

‘Now we should sleep,’ she said. ‘And then next time we can concentrate on pure enjoyment.’