'What happens now?' he asked.
Riasu smiled at his next small victory. 'Your men will stop here with my warriors. They may move no further into our lands. You will come with me.'
'Sir?' said Devun's deputy who had overheard the exchange.
'We'll do exactly as he says. Just keep yourselves quiet, demand nothing and you'll be fine. Don't let them provoke you.' Devun indicated their empty sword belts; all their weapons were being held at the pass. 'Remember our circumstances.'
'Yes, sir.'
Devun turned to Riasu and pulled his cloak close, feeling an unseasonable chill in the evening air.
'Lead on,' he said.
'Good luck,' said the deputy.
'If I have to rely on that, I think we're in trouble,' said Devun, a wry smile on his face. 'But I appreciate the thought.'
Riasu led him towards the camp. At each fire stood a quartet of warriors. Around each tribal tent and fire group, men and women busied themselves cooking, eating and checking weapons. Around the palace tent, guards stood watchful. Tessaya was taking few chances. Just beyond the ring of fires, Riasu stopped him.
'Wait. I must seek permission for you to enter.'
Devun watched him go, walking proud and tall, nodding curtly to the guards who stood aside for him to pass before turning to glare at Devun with undisguised malevolence. He stared back, becoming aware of his vulnerability. If things went awry, he would be dead very quickly.
While he stood waiting, the scents of the camp drifted over him. Wood smoke and cooked meat, rich herbs and even a hint of canvas wax. It was a very well ordered camp but he expected nothing less. Lord Tessaya was an impressive man; and that was before Devun actually met him. He felt a nervousness he hadn't experienced since he was first introduced to Selik.
Riasu wasn't long, walking quickly back to the camp perimeter and waving him in.
'Come,' he said.
Devun strode by the guards, hearing one of them mutter something. Though he couldn't understand the words, the tone and intent were clear enough. He stopped and looked deep into the eyes of the Wesman who was a head shorter than him.
'Say what you will,' he said pointlessly. 'But we will be allies. You will respect me one day.'
'Devun!' snapped Riasu. He uttered a stream of angry Wes and the guard paced back, hand moving from the hilt of his sword. 'No games.'
Devun walked over to Riasu and the two men passed by the six-strong guard at Tessaya's tent entrance. Down a short canvas hallway, another guard held aside a gold trimmed, deep green and tasselled curtain.
'Show respect to the Lord Tessaya,' warned Riasu.
Devun smiled at him, feeling his anxiety growing. 'I had never thought to do otherwise.'
He walked into the grand single room of the palace tent, taking in the netted four-posted bed that stood at the far wall, the fine carved table and six chairs to his right and the plain woven rugs that covered every inch of grass. And he took in the group of three low, dark red plush sofas arranged around a rectangular table on which stood a jug, two metal goblets and a spread of meat and bread.
In front of the sofas stood Tessaya. He was a broad-shouldered man, his shoulder-length hair tied in a loose pony tail. His weathered, pitted face carried the scars of countless battles but his eyes were chips of pure energy. He was dressed in loose-fitting grey robes, cinched at the waist with a tri-coloured plaited cord. He paced forwards. He didn't offer a hand but his face wore an expression of welcome not hostility.
'Captain Devun of the infamous Black Wings,' he said in faultless standard eastern dialect. 'A shame neither Selik, nor his predecessor, Travers, had the wit to seek my help. I congratulate you on your good sense. Come, eat and drink with me. We have much to discuss.'
Chapter 10.
It took The Raven almost three days to reach the periphery of the war zone. Three days in which The Unknown's growing concern for the safety of his family was only tempered by his determination to see The Raven reach their destination capable of making a difference. That was the difference between them, Hirad decided. He would have hurtled down the trail, taking his chances because time was everything. The Unknown knew they would achieve nothing by being caught.
It hadn't made him any easier to live with, though. Whenever they rested, hidden in a cleft, river valley or one of the few surviving stands of trees, the emotions he kept in check for the good of The Raven surfaced. He prowled, biting his nails. He irritated Hirad for more and more contact via Sha-Kaan and he snapped at Darrick, who had suggested a faster route.
Now, a mile and more from any supply trail and travelling over tricky ground in the dead of night in a direction designed to take them into the Al-Arynaar camp without crossing allied patrols, Hirad felt he should speak to Darrick.
'This is us,' he said. 'The balance we strike between emotion and practicality is one of those things that makes us who we are. Or so Erienne says. She calls me the heartbeat and The Unknown the brain.'
'And what am I?' asked Darrick.
'A friend with a lot to learn about us.'
'But I could have helped. Selected a better route.'
'The Unknown didn't agree and we believe what he says,' said Hirad. 'But in this case it's personal too. And if The Unknown wants us to be cautious, that is what we'll be. He only turned on you because you didn't understand that. We do it our way and you're one of us now but we all have our key strengths. Yours are things like tactics, on and off horseback. One of The Unknown's is always, always doing things the right way. Question him and you question his ability.'
'I would never do that,' protested Darrick. 'The thought is ludicrous. I just wanted to help.'
'And you'll learn the ways. Believe me, Ry, he holds you in high regard. But this is his task we're helping him with and we must let him do it his way. When he needs help, he'll ask.'
Darrick blew out his cheeks and threw up his hands. With a mercenary sword at his side and an oversize leather jerkin over his uniform jacket, he at least looked more like a member of The Raven. But his youthful face wasn't scarred enough for a long-term mercenary. Too pretty. Like Sirendor Larn. Hirad smiled to himself remembering his old friend. A long time dead and gone from The Raven but never forgotten.
In front of them, the way was suddenly full of figures blocking their path. They had melted from the night and were practically close enough to strike. Bows were bent back and the crouched stance of others carried threat and intent.
The Unknown held up a hand and The Raven halted, seeing themselves hopelessly outnumbered. The Unknown kept his hands away from his weapons, Hirad staying his initial reaction and doing the same. A heartbeat later, he heard laughter ahead and saw two figures moving through the line of archers.
'I knew I was right,' said the voice in accented, slightly clumsy Balaian. 'And you are predictable.'
Hirad slid from his horse and trotted forwards, clasping Rebraal's shoulders.
'Only Ilkar's brother would have guessed our route,' he said, relief gladdening his heart.
'I can't take all the credit,' said Rebraal indicating Auum, who stood beside him, not a flicker of emotion on his green-and-black camouflaged face. 'He has an eye for the land not shared by our - uh - allies, if we can truly call them that.'
'Oh, we can still call them that,' said The Unknown, dismounting and walking to stand by Hirad, the rest of The Raven climbing a little more slowly from their horses. 'We are still after most of the same things. And don't take any credit, Rebraal. Why do you think I brought us this way?'
Auum wrinkled his nose at that though Hirad was unsure how much he really understood. Behind him, Thraun growled and crouched. A ClawBound panther loped from the shadows and nuzzled him. Its elven partner, face painted half black, half white, impassive, walked close.
'We aren't safe here,' said Rebraal. 'We have made a secure area near our camp. You can hide there. We must be quiet on the way.'
Leading their horses, The Raven followed the Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen elves in silence. It was a walk of over two miles, close to the Lysternan and Dordovan encampments, but Hirad didn't feel under a great deal of threat. TaiGethen scouted ahead and on the flanks, ClawBound ranged in the deepest shadows. Any inquisitive ally would be turned away. Any enemy wouldn't live to report back. What the elves did beyond fighting at the gates of Xetesk was their business.
The main elven camp was quiet as the early hours passed. The only fires were for cooking and they were positioned in a single area close to the Lysternan forces. Beyond them, and further into the shrub and trees that the elves preferred to the open camps of their allies, The Raven were shown into the secured area, patrolled by Al-Arynaar. Their horses were unsaddled before being led away to the central picketing area.
A small fire lay at the heart of this camp within a camp. Above it dangled two cooking pots and surrounding it, logs had been dragged in for seats.
'Been expecting us?' asked Hirad.
'We have tracked you for a day,' admitted Rebraal.
A single figure sat poking at the fire. He stood quickly and stepped forward, straightening his clothing. Hirad couldn't quite see his face but Darrick knew exactly who he was.
'Take a wrong turn off the battlefield today?'
'No, General. I just heard you might be making an appearance.'
Darrick and Izack embraced, slapping each other on the back. Izack showed Darrick to a seat, turning and waving the others in.
'Don't worry,' he said. 'I'm acting on my own.'
Hirad shrugged and moved into the glow of the fire, The Unknown at his shoulder.
'Do we trust him?' asked the barbarian, voice low.
'If Darrick does, I do,' said The Unknown. 'Let's eat and talk.'
He seated himself the other side of Izack, Hirad next to him. Denser and Erienne sat across the fire from them. Hirad was worried by them both. Erienne had been so quiet since casting the One spell and her silence had affected Denser. There was more to it than the concerned husband. He didn't want to think they were keeping something from The Raven. Surely Denser had been warned enough about that.
Last into the firelight was Thraun. His face carried a deep frown and he shook his head, troubled in the depths of his mind. If it was possible, the frown deepened when he saw Izack. His agile frame slid quickly around the fire and he dropped to his haunches in front of the Lysternan cavalry commander, blond hair flying briefly. He studied Izack's face the way a predator studied prey before striking.
'Thraun, it's all right,' said Darrick. 'We can trust him.'
'Risk,' said Thraun, focusing on Darrick momentarily.
'I won't betray you,' said Izack. 'Hear what I have to say.'
'Heryst's man,' said Thraun.
He straightened up but, before turning away, pointed to Izack and then to his right eye.
'What's got into you, Thraun?' asked Hirad.
'Later,' said Thraun, his tone so low it was little more than a bass rumble.
A little less confident than when he'd greeted Darrick, Izack ladled out strong herbal tea for them all and pointed to the soup, bowls and bread.
'Report,' said Darrick. 'Please,' he added, remembering himself.
Izack chuckled.
'A pleasure, General, though it makes grim listening. The siege is still secure but we are certain some supplies are reaching Xetesk. We suspect underground passageways but we have found nothing so far and, to be frank, can't spare too many men to look. We suffered heavy losses here on the eastern front as a direct result of the first Julatsan mana-flow failure. This has left-'
'Whoa, whoa,' said Denser, holding up a hand. 'What failure?'
Both he and Erienne were staring at Izack as if he'd just told them the world was about to end.
'You don't know?' Izack gaped.
'In case it has escaped your attention, our Julatsan is dead,' said Hirad gruffly. 'And your glorious leader told us nothing about events elsewhere.'
'I'm sorry,' said Izack. 'Stupid of me. Look, I don't know the technicalities, you'll have to ask the Al-Arynaar mages. The effect was a multiple backfire of the shield net over our front line. The Xeteskians took full advantage. We lost hundreds.
'Right now, we aren't even attacking on this front. The northern gate forces are only just holding because Xetesk have reinforced from here. South and east, it's pretty much as you were but we've taken all their reserve to ensure Xetesk can't punch through here. Not that I think they want to. They're just happy to occupy us.'
'Erienne, Denser?' The Unknown was staring across the fire. 'How could this failure happen?'
Both mages shook their heads. 'It's absolutely unbelievable,' said Denser.
'I can answer that,' said Izack. 'Julatsans arrived here at the east gate lines this morning to talk to the Al-Arynaar. They say the Heart of Julatsa is failing.'
For a time, all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and the breeze through the leaves above.
'How can that be possible?' asked The Unknown eventually.
'It isn't,' said Erienne. 'At least, that's what we've all been taught.'
'But assuming it is, what's the result?' asked Hirad.
Erienne shrugged and spoke plainly not really believing what she was saying. 'Julatsan magic dies and the balance of magic on Balaia shifts irrevocably.'
'That's not happening,' said Hirad. 'No way.'
'All right, Hirad, let's keep it calm,' said The Unknown. 'Izack, presumably the Julatsans are here to get help from the Al-Arynaar, being Julatsan-trained initially.'
Izack nodded. 'Absolutely. They say that only the Al-Arynaar can help raise the Heart because they have the knowledge of Julatsan magic. And raising the Heart is the only way to stop this failure becoming permanent. Does that make sense?'
Denser blew out his cheeks. 'Sort of. Bringing the Al-Arynaar to Julatsa to raise the Heart was something Ilkar wanted to do. It's why we went to Calaius in the first place, before the Elfsorrow struck. As for this failure of Julatsan magic, I don't know. Like Erienne says, this goes against all our teaching. Burying a Heart will stop development because the core power can't flow and that's why you'd only bury one if it would otherwise be destroyed.'
'Which is what Julatsa did when the Wesmen invaded.'
'Exactly, Hirad. But it should still beat. The power should never falter. There's no reason why, that's what we don't understand.'
'So we get the Al-Arynaar mages and go to Julatsa. What are we waiting for?' Hirad spread his hands.
'Hirad, please,' said The Unknown. 'I know you're anxious but we have to do this right. Where's Rebraal?'
'I am here.' Ilkar's brother, leader of the Al-Arynaar, walked from the shadows where he'd been leaning against a tree.
'We need to talk to one of your mages. Well, Erienne and Denser do. Find out what timescale we're dealing with here.'
Rebraal nodded. 'Of course. Our lead mage is Dila'heth. I'll bring her to you.'
'Thank you. Now, Izack, what have you been told about us?'