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'Glad you stopped by,' he said.

Hirad nodded. 'All right. Drop your weapons. We need them.' He didn't let up pressure on the mage's neck.

There was hesitation. The Unknown hissed in breath and stepped smartly across, hooking a fist into the chin of the nearest guard. The blow took him completely unawares, sending him crashing into the other two, his sword clattering to the floor. The Unknown stopped, grabbed the blade and held it ready.

'Drop them now,' he growled. The other blades dropped. The Unknown moved forward and the two guards, one Lysternan and the jailer, backed off. Denser and Ilkar moved into the space and took the swords.

'Sorry,' said Hirad to the mage.

'Don't be,' he replied. 'I know the General was uncomfortable with all this.'

'Not for that, for this.'

He spun the mage to face him, reversed the dagger and snapped the end of the hilt into the mage's temple. The man crumpled.

'Can't have you casting, can we?' he said, cushioning the stunned body to the ground. He turned his attention to the guards. 'And you. I'm sorry for your friend outside but take it as a warning. Don't follow us.'

He took The Raven in; Denser looking at him as if seeing a ghost, Ilkar who couldn't suppress a smile and The Unknown carefully neutral. All three shifted gaze to the wolves and back.

'Yes, it's Thraun. Later, all right? We've got work to do.' He smiled. 'Raven! Raven with me!'

He led the run to the dockside.

Lights were on all over Arlen when the Earl was disturbed by a frantic knocking on his door. He had posted guards at the docks following General Darrick's rather dramatic departure but, as he had expected, had heard nothing.

'Yes, yes, dammit.' He heaved himself from his chair. His guard captain half-ran in, his face severe in the glow of the fire. 'What is it?'

'The Black Wings have stormed the Ocean Elm, the Lysternans have just ridden down a guard post and the Dordovans are riding too. Our dock's going to be a battleground.'

'Not while I'm Earl,' said Arlen. 'You know what to do. Block every exit into the town. Seal off the docks and get my bloody dresser out of his bed and down to the armoury.'

'Already done, my Lord.'

Arlen's grin was mirthless. 'Then I'll be joining you all the sooner.'

The guard captain ran out, his footsteps clattering on the marbled floor. Arlen walked to a window and pulled the drapes aside. He could see nothing at the dockside but the lights everywhere told him his town was awake and not just the nightly revellers in Centenary Square.

'Damn this magic,' he muttered. 'Damn it all the way to hell.'

Darrick rode at the head of the muted charge, already feeling guilty about the Arlen guards he'd injured or killed while riding through the northern approach to the town. The cavalry clattered across the market square, scattering drunks and late-night walkers back into the bars and inns where music sounded and light still burned brightly. They galloped dead south past shipping offices and the Lakehome Inn before turning hard right for the Elm's berth.

Every ship in the docks was ablaze with light, the Elm no exception. Darrick could see elves on the rigging and heard orders drifting on the wind. The first spots of rain were beginning to fall. It promised to be a very unpleasant night.

He reined in at the Elm, the cavalry filling the dockside behind him.

'Ocean Elm!' he shouted. 'I would speak with your Captain.'

All action on the ship had ceased at the arrival of the cavalry, only for a barked order sending the elves scurrying again. A man moved to the port rail and leaned on it.

'General Darrick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'Who are you?' demanded Darrick.

'An ally,' came the reply. 'I'm afraid the ship's Captain is rather busy at the moment but I'm actually in charge. I am Selik, Captain of the Black Wings.'

'Then you are no ally,' spat Darrick.

'I think your Dordovan friends might disagree with you, General. '

'I have no Dordovan friends,' said Darrick. 'And neither do you.'

'I beg to differ,' said Selik, shrugging. 'But it's immaterial. You can ask them yourself shortly. Can I help you in any other way?'

Darrick paused a moment, aware that every ear was listening and, like him, none believed what they were hearing. He wished he hadn't left without the Dordovan mages. At least they could have been questioned. The scum on the deck of the Elm, though, was not going to give any straight answers.

'I require you to deliver Erienne Malanvai to me immediately. I then demand that you leave this ship before there is more bloodshed. I have over two hundred cavalry and thirty mages. We will take the ship if we have to.'

'And as you so accurately point out, I have Erienne Malanvai. Your next move could result in unwanted death,' said Selik. 'I suggest you don't make it.'

'You won't kill her,' said Darrick. 'She's your only card.'

'Attack me if that's what you believe,' replied Selik. 'Quite a risk, though, I'd say.'

Darrick turned to Izack. 'Deploy the cavalry. Mounted. No one gets near this ship. If it attempts to leave, burn the sails.' He looked back to Selik.

'You are unwelcome, Selik. And you will never make open waters. Be mindful before you raise sail.'

'Your warning is obviously appreciated,' said Selik. 'But I feel it to be a waste of your breath.' The man turned from the rail.

Darrick dismounted and led his horse towards the Lakehome Inn to watch and think. Izack marshalled the cavalry, and in short order, the entire column formed a semi-circle, four deep, interspersed with mages. Shields were cast and the offensive mage force sat at the centre of the formation, spells prepared, waiting.

Already to the east, he could hear hooves on stone and he wondered whether Selik would not be proved right. Reluctantly, he remounted and trotted his horse to the western end of the Lysternan formation. Snapping his fingers, he waved over an elven cavalryman.

'What can you see?'

'Several hundred riders in Dordovan colours. Our escort mages are among them, riding close to the head of the column.'

'Really.' Darrick's jaw set. He held up an arm. Hush fell in the ranks.

'Guard. These are not necessarily friendly faces. Look to me. Look to Commander Izack. Once again, guard.'

His voice carried clear to the Ocean Elm too. He studied the ship. Somewhere on board, Erienne was captive. The elves moved about, seemingly unhindered, but the Black Wings watched their every move. This would have to be played out with great care. He could still scarcely believe there was a link between the Dordovans and the Witch Hunters but the evidence was growing. Selik had to be buying time, readying for sail. If he got clear, the problems would mount.

'How far?' he asked, not turning his head. He could see the torches but the distance was hard to judge.

'They'll be here imminently. A three-wide column. Not tight. You wouldn't have been happy, sir.'

Darrick looked across to the elf. 'I'm sure I wouldn't.'

'That's not a compliment, sir, merely the way it is,' said the elf, suddenly nervous. 'It may point to a lack of discipline in the column.'

'Point taken. Let's wait and see, eh?'

'Yes sir.'

The Dordovan mounted force emerged from the shadows, sweeping around the fish market. Darrick could see what the elf meant.

'Remind Izack of your name,' said the General. 'I'll be asking for it later.'

'Yes sir.'

Seeing the Lysternan defence, the Dordovan cavalry reined in. At their head was a man Darrick didn't recognise. He was a mage, not a soldier.

'General Darrick,' said the mage, his tone not matching his smile.

'For the second time tonight, I am at a loss. I would have your name.'

'Gorstan,' replied the mage. 'Aide to Vuldaroq, Tower Lord.'

'I have the ship under guard,' said Darrick. 'Odd that you've been here this long and not seen the Black Wing threat. I would have expected you at the dockside sooner.'

Gorstan's smile was feeble. 'There is no threat, General Darrick. A meeting of minds, if not ethics. Call it an alliance of temporary convenience and necessity.'

There it was. Darrick sat stunned in the saddle, his hopes that Arlen had been mistaken lying in tatters; and behind him, even his disciplined cavalry whispered and moved in their saddles. He held up a hand to silence them. He could take the Dordovans, but in their wake the Protectors were coming, and Xetesk wanted the child too. He couldn't afford the bloodshed among his own men, nor the confusion.

And in the jail languished the men he knew he should have listened to all along. You could trust The Raven like you couldn't College hierarchy and men were about to pay with their lives for his lack of faith in his old friends.

Darrick flicked the reins of his horse and walked it forward, signalling for Gorstan to do the same. The two met in the ten yards of space between the cavalry forces. Darrick kept his voice deliberately low.

'Tell me you haven't sanctioned the Black Wing action.'

'Each to their own strengths, General. The Black Wings said they were adept at ship-taking and it appears they were right. No Dordovans were harmed and we have Erienne.'

'You have delivered one of your own to the Witch Hunters. It makes you no better than them.' Darrick squeezed the reins he held, determined not to move a hand in angry gesture, a sign he considered weak in front of his cavalry.

Gorstan shifted a little in his saddle.

'General, there are times when we must ally with the devils amongst us to obstruct a greater ill. We are facing such today and Balaia will thank us for our actions.'

'Erienne is a Dordovan,' spat Darrick.

'She is a maverick who made her choice when she deserted the College and damned us all,' said Gorstan. 'Are you blind to that?'

'No, I am not, but neither do I think that she, of all people, should be exposed to the Black Wings.'

'Your compassion will be your undoing,' said Gorstan.

'And your unholy alliance will be yours.'

Gorstan paused. 'I take it you are still in support of the accord between the elders of our respective Colleges.'

The pulse beat hard in Darrick's neck. Every moment of his training bade him simply to nod his head and ignore the consequences, foisting all blame and guilt on those who gave the orders. It was the way of the career soldier. Normally.

'They kill what they do not understand,' said Darrick.

Gorstan shrugged. 'Sometimes, it is the only way.'

Darrick could almost see Vuldaroq's fat face nodding his agreement. Even alliance with Xetesk seemed a preferable plan to what he was presented with now. He drew a long breath, acutely aware of the effect of his next utterance.

'I cannot and will not speak for those under my charge but no, I do not offer my support. Neither do I offer my blessing or my belief in the outcome justifying the means. Your actions sicken me to the pit of my stomach and I have nothing but contempt for Dordover and for any in Lystern who were party to this abomination.'

Gorstan merely smiled. 'I do believe that is treason, General Darrick.'

'So be it.'

'Vuldaroq said you were trouble.'

'I think the term you're looking for is honourable. A quality apparently in very short supply.'

'I-'

'Be quiet, Dordovan. I am tired of your bleating. I will now announce my intentions to my cavalry. They will act on their own wills. You and I will have no further contact. Indeed, if we meet again, your life is forfeit.'

'Honour.' Gorstan chuckled. 'You would see Balaia fall for it. Fool. Why do you think Lystern is so weak?'

Darrick burned to say something more, to drag the mage from his horse and punch him until his sneers were bubbles of blood and bile in a toothless mouth. But he knew he couldn't.

'Like I said, no further contact.' He wheeled his mount and walked it back to his men.

Chapter 23.

Aeb strode easily at the side of the mounted lead mage, Sytkan. The Protectors were resting after running through the day and into the night, after word from Arlen of the Black Wings' expulsion earlier in the day. The suspicion had been that trouble would flare later, probably under the cover of darkness, and the Protectors, at the time still more than thirty miles from the town over rough terrain, had been forced to make up a lot of time. There had been no further Communion.

A couple of miles outside the town, they had picked up the Dordovans; foot-soldiers trailing their horse-borne comrades by half a mile and steadily losing ground. Forward scouts reported a force of two hundred foot plus one hundred and fifty cavalry and mounted mages in all. The foot-soldiers were undefended.

Sytkan had immediately called for rest pace but had requested that Aeb order battle psyche, priming the Protectors for the potential fight.

There was a decision to be made. Aeb understood there were political considerations but did not respect the reluctance to order battle. Dordover had announced its intentions days before on the borders of the Xeteskian mage lands. The foot-soldiers were a threat to the success of the overall mission. Protectors were bred to remove threat.

'Opinion, Aeb,' said Sytkan.

'Engagement outside Arlen is more efficient,' said Aeb. 'There is more room for deployment, a reduction in the capacity of the enemy to flee effectively and minimal risk to innocents.'

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