Sha-Kaan howled in anguish, the pain biting into him, deeper and deeper. The mages from the other side of the college had been quick. Too quick for him and he had been blinded by his success. He had to climb away, to reach safety where he could see to his wounds. But the hail had damaged the wing membrane and it was weak. Too weak to withstand this atmosphere for long. The muscles at the roots were cut deeply and blood poured from him like rain.
He looked down. Only one place to go, only one hope remained. He angled sharply again and half flew, half fell into the college.
'No!' roared Hirad. He pushed past The Raven and began to run down the gatehouse stairs.
He knew where Sha-Kaan intended to land. He had felt the pain of the DeathHail strike as if it was his own. But he was unharmed while the Great Kaan was seriously, if not mortally, wounded. Weakened from his long years of exile, he was so vulnerable. Why had he not listened?
Hirad burst into the gateyard and ran up the wide pathway that crossed the entire college and that had as its centre point the Heart pit. The Al-Arynaar and Julatsan mages were gathering there for the second, and what would be final, attempt at the Heart raise. Denser and Erienne were with them, all of them looking into the sky at the stricken dragon trying to control his fall.
'Get out of the way!' he yelled as he ran. 'Clear the area. Move, move!'
He was waving his arms frantically and it took an age for them to see him. When they did, they began to run, heading for cover in the refectory, the infirmary, the lecture theatre or any long room that was close enough. He saw Denser shepherding Erienne to safety and breathed again, not slowing his pace.
Sha-Kaan took the roof off the lecture theatre, his hind legs ripping through stone, wood and slate, bringing half the building tumbling down. The impact drove him up a few feet before his wings folded and he crashed to the ground, legs giving way, sending him rolling and bouncing over the Heart pit. His tail bit through the frontages of both refectory and infirmary, striking stone, his neck was coiled in to protect his head as he rolled and eventually he slid to a stop, his back hitting a long room with a shuddering force that bowed the stone.
Behind him, dust billowed into the air and Hirad ran with a hand over his mouth and the other trying to keep the grit from his eyes. He was half blinded but he could see the heaving mass of Sha-Kaan and the neck still moving, dragging his head around to fix on his Dragonene.
Hirad slithered to a halt by his head and looked into a slowly blinking eye. He didn't have to ask after the dragon's condition, he could feel everything. Sha-Kaan couldn't shield the agony from him. The spell had blistered him where it struck, the cold hail prising up scales that had torn free when he crashed. He seemed to be bleeding from every part of his body.
Hirad placed a hand on the dragon's head, fighting back panic. Around him, he could hear running feet and cries from those who had sheltered in the wrong places. He sent a short prayer that few had been badly hurt and turned his full attention to the ailing beast.
'It was not my best landing,' said Sha-Kaan, his voice choked and pained. 'It was the landing of a newly weaned birthling.'
'This is not the time for jokes,' said Hirad. 'You've got to hang on.'
'You have told me that there was always time for jokes,' responded Sha-Kaan.
'Not now, not now,' said Hirad. 'What can I do? Gods, but you are a mess.'
The startling blue eye blinked very slowly, the lid seeming to struggle on its way back up. 'There is little you can do,' he said. 'I have overstayed my welcome in your dimension.'
'So we'll send you home. Now,' said Hirad, turning. 'Denser! Denser get over here!'
'Hirad, I don't think I have the strength to get up on my feet, let alone fly inter-dimensional space back to Beshara. Keep your mage's strength, you need it more than I.'
'No way,' said Hirad. 'No way. Hold on.'
He felt the surge of pain that ran up and down Sha-Kaan's body. Ribs were cracked, wing membranes torn, neck sprained and tail broken. He turned and opened his mouth to shout throught the dust cloud that still swirled around the Heart pit.
'D-'
'I'm here,' said Denser, running up, Erienne with him. 'Oh dear Gods, is he all right?'
'Of course he's not bloody well all right! He's dying.' Hirad swallowed. 'Please Denser, it has to be now. We won't get another chance. Before the Xeteskians get themselves reorganised. Please.'
But the Xeteskians were already reforming. Darrick was issuing orders and a quick glance told him that the next spell against the gates was only moments away. The General himself was clearing the gatehouse and a defensive line was in position beyond any backwash when the gates gave way.
'Don't do it, Denser,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Finish what I started. Keep them away. Raise the Heart. I will wait.'
The eyes were closing.
'Don't listen to him, Denser, please.' Hirad grabbed his shoulders, shook him while he spoke. 'We could all die here. It looks like we will. But if there's one we can save, we can't miss the chance. Sha-Kaan is that one. For everything he has done. Please.'
Denser nodded. Hirad dragged him forwards and kissed his cheek.
'Don't-' began Sha-Kaan.
'Now you listen to me, Sha-Kaan,' said Hirad, rounding on him. 'You are not going to die here. I promised that you wouldn't and I keep my promises. You cannot let it end like this. You have work, we have work and yours is on Beshara, leading the Brood Kaan.
'You've had your rest and now is the time to roll back on to your feet, test your wings and be ready. Got that?'
Sha-Kaan's nostrils flared. 'Frail human, I am not so weak I cannot snuff out your life.'
Hirad grinned. 'That is what I like to hear. But you'd better be standing up first or I'll outrun you. Denser, make sure whatever it is you open, it is right in front of his face.'
'No problem,' Denser's voice was faint with concentration.
'Hirad!' Darrick's voice carried to him. He could see the General running over.
'Right with you.'
'Now, Hirad,' said Darrick. 'They're coming through any moment.'
'Right with you,' repeated Hirad. 'Erienne, that Heart has to come up.'
'I know,' snapped Erienne. 'It was happening until he dropped in.'
'No time for argument, get it done,' said Hirad. He caught her expression. 'Shout all you want but we're on borrowed time here.'
'Can it work?' asked Darrick. 'The Heart raise?'
'Of course it can.' Erienne led their gaze to the pit to which elves and Julatsans were already returning, some being supported by their friends.
'But will they have anything left when they've done it?' he pressed. 'Anything at all?'
Erienne smiled at last. 'Enough,' she said. 'Perhaps.'
Hirad barely concentrated on the exchange. Darrick was already running back to his defensive postion. He felt an impact through the ground and heard timbers giving way.
'Hurry, Denser,' he said quietly.
He placed a hand on Sha-Kaan's head again. The eye opened and fixed him with an unblinking stare.
'Move aside.'
Hirad moved and so did Sha-Kaan. Slowly, painfully, he rolled, pushing with a twisted hind leg and feebly flapping a free wing. But he moved upright, his neck still dragging on the floor, he without the strength to lift it or his head. With his legs finally beneath him, he pushed and relieved the pressure on his chest and torn underbelly. Blood ran from the hundreds of puncture wounds and he sighed.
'Next time you touch down, it'll be in your own Broodlands,' said Hirad. 'Think on that and keep yourself strong.'
Sha-Kaan said nothing, merely concentrated on breathing that was getting more and more ragged.
Denser was lost within himself, picking at the air with deliberate movements. Once again, Hirad found himself wishing he could see what a mage took as read, the mana flow, the structures it made and the wonder of it all. Next to him, Sha-Kaan twitched violently and his snout picked up off the ground.
Hirad jumped, made to ask what was wrong but instead felt the warmth of rediscovery flood through him. Around Denser's head, a tiny slit had appeared and emanating from it was a line of blue light, hair-thin and rippling in one direction.
'Follow your path, Sha-Kaan,' Denser said, his voice hushed. 'It will take you all the way home.'
Hirad felt the Great Kaan move and that head nudge him gently, almost knocking him from his feet. He twisted his neck and looked one more time into the deep blue pupil.
'Don't you dare die,' said Hirad. 'Not now.'
'Thank you,' said Sha-Kaan, the simple words burning into Hirad like the gratitude of thousands.
The Great Kaan shifted out of Balaia.
Behind Hirad, the gates of Julatsa were sundered.
Chapter 43.
Izack moved his cavalry forward but he was not going to enter the city from anywhere but the south this morning. He had half of his shield mages in the air, spotting ahead, one having reported back on the attack by Sha-Kaan. For a few glorious moments it had seemed that the dragon had singlehandedly broken the enemy but the mages from the rear of the college had gathered, having driven him away, and now they assaulted the gates once more.
He led his men in at a gentle canter, watching for the signs in the sky. Darrick had instilled in him the importance of not making a hasty move and he had been proved right already today. His spotters had been chased by familiars and harried by Xeteskians but they had seen enough to stop him sacrificing himself in front of the walls at dawn. Nor had the TaiGethen been drawn to attack, but now the situation would change.
Izack waited his moment. They were very much alone. No support was coming. The Xeteskians had destroyed the relief force completely and all that was left was Blackthorne and he had gone his own way. High up the three spotters circled, diving and climbing to avoid the menacing familiars. The demons were the only immediate threat now that every available Xeteskian mage was presumably at the college gates.
While Izack watched, the flight pattern changed. The slow circling and diving switched to the figure of eight, each mage describing his own. Simultaneously, new smoke rose above the city. The spotters, their job done, dropped into the college to provide support.
'Lystern, let's move!' shouted Izack. He snapped his reins and the cavalry accelerated. He had two miles to travel and the gates of Julatsa were down. The next stage of the fight relied on The Raven.
The heavy gates had rocked back against their hinges and the left-hand had sagged and fallen. Splinters filled the air and with a roar, the Xeteskian soldiers stormed in through the breach to be met head-on by Al-Arynaar warriors, Julatsan guardsmen and, at their centre, The Raven.
Hirad had run the moment Sha-Kaan had vanished into inter-dimensional space, dragging his sword from its scabbard and howling some barbarian cry that Denser never had understood. For himself, he took just a moment to collect himself, readying a HardShield and sprinting in Hirad's wake to the back of the defensive line.
Up on the walls, Al-Arynaar archers were firing the last of their arrows into the backs of the attackers who, temporarily unshielded, were taking significant losses. But while he watched, FlameOrbs exploded in three places in the parapet. Elves were catapulted screaming into the air amongst clouds of stone chips, wood slivers and dust, to fall burning to the ground behind the defensive lines.
On the ground, the Xeteskians had run into solid defence as they knew they must but were still moving forward, trying to clear a path for a cavalry charge. Denser could see Chandyr lining up his horsemen. Crossbow bolts traced out over the forward line to strike at the line of elven archers responding in kind and he had to take his life in his hands, running across the space to where he could cast and direct.
'Shield up,' he said.
Hirad nodded but didn't take his eyes from the enemy in front.
'Pushing Raven!' he roared.
Hirad's blade, quick as ever, licked into the face of an enemy, reversed and chopped down through his chest guard, dragged out and turned away another blow. Next to him, The Unknown was deep in the heart of the enemy line, the dagger in his left hand blurring as he struck out, the long sword in his right carving gracefully, blocking, twisting and thrusting.
His power was immense, every blow from either weapon knocking opponents back, giving him all the time he needed for the killing thrust. One man died with the dagger clean into his eye when he had thought a heartbeat earlier he had scored a hit on the big man. Another took a cleaving blow into his side which opened up his gut and he fell, spilling entrails over the blood-slick ground.
To The Unknown's left, Darrick and Thraun fought in a partnership that was beginning to work very well indeed. Darrick, the consummate swordsman, played defender while Thraun, raw power in every blow, thrashed his blade two-handed into enemy faces.
But it was the flanks that worried Denser. He could see the Xeteskians pressing there. For all their speed, the elves were very lightly armoured and their short blades didn't have the reach. Too often, they were being dragged a pace forwards, too often the result was a cut, a body blow or a killing thrust.
'Flanks weakening,' warned Denser. 'Cavalry waiting.'
'Archers!' shouted Darrick, pushing away a man. The Unknown clubbed him down with a huge blow to the top of the skull. 'Flank support! Fire at will.'
Rebraal stood in the left flank, sporting a cut to his face and holding his left arm gingerly, his sleeve soaked red. He called out in elven and Denser heard the bows stretched behind him. Another shout and every elf to the left of Thraun dropped to his haunches and turned a backward roll, arrows flying over them into the enemy beyond. They stood back up to run in but a volley of crossbow bolts from behind cut hard into them, felling four at least.
'We need more shields!' called Darrick. 'Someone get me a Julatsan from the pit.'
But there was no one free to do it and, Denser suspected, not a single mage able to detach by now. The enemy pressed on both flanks while making no progress against the centre. He heard a shout from behind and the thundering of hooves. At the rear of the Xeteskians, the press of hundreds parted and the cavalry, two abreast galloped in.
With no respect for the few of his own caught beneath hooves, Chandyr drove his horses through the weakened left, scattering Al-Arynaar and knocking Thraun from his feet.
'Break!' shouted The Unknown. 'Reform at the pit. Go, go!'
Denser dropped concentration, turned and ran. The Raven were all in a group, Al-Arynaar behind them keeping the cavalry from forming a charge. Spells detonated behind them, arrows filled the air and the sounds of hoof beats rang loud in the courtyard.
Racing for the path to the Heart pit which ran between the library and the long room Sha-Kaan had fetched up against, Denser dragged in concentration for a new casting. No time for defence now. He had to disrupt the charge.
'Turning, Denser!' warned Hirad.
Denser stopped and turned. A dozen cavalrymen were charging them. Behind them, the gateyard was chaos. Al-Arynaar fought in packs, Xeteskian soldiers and mages formed up into a cohesive line again, and more of Chandyr's cavalry piled through the shattered gates. In front of him, The Unknown tapped his blade. This time, though, Denser was faster. He brought his arms together across his chest, his fists clenched, held at his shoulders. He focused on the centre of the charge now ten yards distant and widened his mana vison. His voice was calm and certain.
'HellFire.'
Multiple columns of superheated blue mana fire scorched down from the clear sky, seeking the souls of the cavalry. The centre of the charge was deluged in an instant, the lead man disintegrating under the force of the spell, his horse driven into the ground, legs ripped to either side. On either flank, the columns gorged on flesh, their targets screaming briefly before dying. Fire splattered everywhere, riders veered away and circled, the burning horses plodding painfully to a halt, collapsing in agony. A wave of heat washed over The Raven and to a man, they staggered backwards.
'Too close,' breathed Denser, feeling the exertion of the powerful spell drag at his reserves.
'Good work,' said The Unknown, his sword still tapping its rhythm.
Al-Arynaar were running in their direction, aiming to strengthen their line. Out in the gateyard, the Xeteskians were slowly winning, their superior numbers telling. But The Raven couldn't break. Here they had to make a stand. Behind them, the last chance for Julatsa was being played out.
But to Denser's ear came the unmistakable manic laughter of familiars and following that, the calls of the ClawBound.
Erienne had seen the mages fly in and heard them call out their college allegiance as they came. A quick dip into the mana spectrum had revealed the truth and she had bade Pheone carry on the preparations. Mercifully, Sha-Kaan's untimely crash into the grounds of the college had injured several but killed none and the wounded had all come out to cast.
'You can hold off the shadow, Erienne?'
'We'll soon find out, won't we?' she said. 'One way or another, this is it. Get casting.' She had turned to the first Lysternan mage. 'Guard us,' she ordered. 'Never mind what's going on out there, The Raven will handle it. Familiars are my biggest concern. We can't afford to have any distractions, and you can't afford to show them any fear. They can be downed with magic. Believe in yourselves.'
'I understand.'