In front of him, Hirad saw green vegetables, a sprinkling of chicken, and potatoes. Not exactly a Blackthorne feast of old but a step up from the broth he was assured they ate most other times. Still, they all had enough to satisfy them. And while they ate, they talked.
Blackthorne's eyes gleamed dark in the candlelight and his expression was set with a grim smile.
'This feast you enjoy is in honour of the return of The Raven,' he said. 'And the elves we are humbled to count among our friends. But for the life of me, I have absolutely no idea why it is you are here.'
'News, advice and weapons,' said Darrick.
'Yes, but really,' replied Blackthorne. 'Plenty of stories have surfaced as you might expect. We are led to believe you slaves to the demons; mastering the resistance; living with dragons; and hiding on Calaius. It is clearly none of these.'
Hirad took a long sip of his vintage and quite exquisite Blackthorne red.
'Until recently, Baron, the latter was the most accurate,' he said. 'But I would like to correct the man who claimed we were hiding.'
'I feel he would be in need of some of The Unknown's famous administrative guidance,' said Denser.
A chuckle ran round the table. Even Blackthorne allowed a smile.
'Oh, I have no doubt that hiding was the very last thing you were doing.' His face sobered. 'What concerns me is why you are here now. Don't misunderstand me, your arrival has brought new hope to everyone here but, well, this was already a desperate situation you were well away from. Why put yourselves in it? Have events turned further for the worse?'
The Unknown told him everything they knew. For Hirad, every time he heard it, he doubted that little bit more that Balaia would survive. Blackthorne listened without interrupting a single time. But as the enormity of the crisis was revealed to him, he sagged visibly, scratched at his grey-flecked beard and chewed his lip.
A silence broken only by the unnaturally loud sounds of cutlery on crockery followed The Unknown's summary. When at last Blackthorne spoke, there was a weariness in his voice. It described so eloquently the slow crushing of his spirit since the demons had invaded.
'I'd always believed we were doing more than simply existing. For two seasons we even made ground. Tortuously slowly, but we made it. Took back some of those the demons had taken from us. Some even got to sleep in their own beds again.' He paused, memories replaying. 'But we paid every time. They killed our friends in revenge for everyone we took. Just as they will do tonight. And every time, we all die a little more but we can't let them see it.
'Strange, but we actually felt we were winning the fight. We wouldn't let ourselves see it, I suppose. How could we afford to? Not even when we reached the limits of our ColdRoom capability. Even when it became obvious that we couldn't help anyone still outside without losing as many as we saved.
'Still we waited, though. And worked and planned and thought. And hoped. Just that others were resisting. It had to be true or we'd have been overwhelmed. But after another season or more we heard nothing. We sent out brave souls who never returned. We risked our mages in linked Communion. But we had to carry on hoping. What other choice was there? For us, for our friends outside, slaves and prey to demons.
'Do you know how hard it is to lift the spirit of everyone you meet on the days that your own is beaten to nothing?'
Blackthorne stopped. He took a long, measured drain of his wine. His guests did not twitch a muscle. Barely even blinked. Beside him, Luke gazed at him transfixed with pure adoration. Blackthorne looked across at him and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. Luke dropped his gaze to the table.
'We have known such despair. Looking out at misery from our own prison. Waiting for the end in whatever guise it came. We go hungry. We are sick so often. The weakest we buried a long time ago. Women are barren, their men impotent. Eggs are laid sour. Livestock is diseased. Milk yield is almost nothing. We are dwindling slowly, though we try to pretend it isn't happening. All those bastards really have to do is wait for us to die but of course we're no good to them dead, are we?
'And then you come from a blue morning and for a moment, we are reborn. Feel the energy from our victory if you will! But the reality is that we lost four mages and seven soldiers bringing you in and now I've heard you I'm not sure whether you are here as our saviours or to read us our last letters before death.'
His eyes glittered as they welled up.
'I want so much to believe you can save us. Can you really?' It ended as a hoarse whisper.
Hirad looked around the table. At Auum who would have understood only snatches but who reflected the mood in his eyes. At Thraun who took it all in without a flicker of emotion but who he knew would be replaying the run in here as a wolf and living the nightmare afresh. At Denser on whose shoulder Erienne rested her head, the two of them reflecting Blackthorne's pain as if it were their own. At Darrick whose eyes displayed fierce determination and the indomitable spirit that made him such a leader of men. The spirit that Blackthorne would never let fail while he was with his own people. And finally at The Unknown who understood the Baron perhaps better than any of them. He nodded at Hirad.
'Tell him,' he said and the ghost of a smile touched his lips. 'You know. In your own words.'
Hirad knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wasn't exactly sure how it would come out but he was certain he'd get his meaning across.
'The only reason we are here is because men like you never give up on what you believe. You remind us of us. And that means we can win, but only because you're behind us, fighting all the way.
'Baron, outside of The Raven, you are the bravest man I know and we need you to help us. Every demon you kill makes our job more possible. Every demon you occupy here is one less that can strike north, and so you help the colleges to survive, and survive they must.
'Everything you have done has been right. You've got people who love you and will die for you. You and I know how valuable that is. And there will be others like you. There must be resistance in Korina and the Baronies. Baron Gresse is surely still alive - he'll be taking this as a personal insult. But everyone has to believe like The Raven do that these bastards can be destroyed. If you let go that hope for a moment, we are all lost.
'Look around this table, Baron. Do you see anyone who doubts that we will eventually triumph? This is our land. And no one is going to take it from us.'
Blackthorne did look around. He searched all of their faces carefully. Hirad could see it in Blackthorne's face. This wasn't any sort of bravado. He absolutely had to know.
'When you say it, it all sounds so simple,' he said.
'He does simple very well,' said Denser.
There was a burst of laughter. Hirad pointed a finger at the Xeteskian.
'Now that was almost worthy of Ilkar.'
'I'm honoured you think so.'
'You should be.'
The Unknown held up a hand for peace.
'All right,' he said. 'Down to business. Baron, we wouldn't be here if we didn't think we could turn this around. I've left my family behind and I will see them again.'
'Of course,' said Blackthorne. 'Now, what is it you need from me?'
'Later, Darrick will need to visit the armoury for weaponry but right now, there are two things. First, you've fought and studied the demons for two years now. Anything you can tell us, no matter how insignificant, could help. Not necessarily now and not necessarily you. Throw it open to your warriors, mages, everyone. Anyone can approach any of us with information.'
'No problem,' said Blackthorne. 'Luke, handle that for me, will you?'
Luke nodded. 'Now?'
'Time is short,' said The Unknown.
Blackthorne smiled at Luke's retreating figure. The young man was upright, confident and full of energy despite everything.
'I don't know what I'd do without him to run the place.'
'He's why you can't ever give up,' said Hirad.
'I know. Now, you said there were two things?'
'Yes. Well, clearly the demons feel they have us trapped. So we need a way out.' The Unknown had the decency to look apologetic.
'Now there I can help you. As you know, our cellars are particularly extensive and we've extended them further.' He allowed a smile. 'Actually, we've built quite a network of tunnels to exit points beyond our ColdRooms, like I'm sure anyone else still holding out must have done. We rotate their use and close sections from time to time and as it happens have just completed another. You could be its first users. When do you want to leave?'
'Good question,' said The Unknown. 'Short answer is, soon. More helpfully, I think it rather depends on how we all feel tomorrow, Thraun in particular.'
'I can run,' said Thraun.
'We may need more than that, old son,' said Hirad.
'Ideally, we'd like to leave tomorrow night. There's a favourable tide early the next morning and we should be on it,' said The Unknown.
'It'll give us time to sort out a few things for you,' said Darrick. 'We've been working on some tactics I can adapt for you.'
'Well, it'll give our warriors something to tell their grandchildren, won't it? Taught battle tactics by General Darrick of The Raven,' said Blackthorne.
'And the more they listen, the more likely it is they'll actually be able to relate it,' said Darrick. 'I'll need them in squads of twenty or thirty or it'll get too ungainly.'
'I'll see it's organised for you. Or rather, Luke will.'
'There is one more thing,' said The Unknown.
'Really. That makes three, doesn't it?' Blackthorne was smiling a little more easily now.
'He never was too good with numbers,' explained Hirad.
'Gods drowning, hark at that,' said Erienne, stirring herself from Denser's shoulder. She looked very tired. Her eyes were a little sunken but they still held their mischievous spark. 'The barbarian looking down on another's numeracy.'
'Isn't it time you turned in?' said Hirad. 'I'm sure you and Cleress have much to talk about.'
'I don't think she can hear me, Hirad,' said Erienne, sobering. 'I can't feel her in my mind.'
Hirad frowned. 'But I thought . . . ?'
'I was on Herendeneth for two years, Hirad. I wasn't tending the garden all that time. I learned things.' Erienne's tone was testy, impatient. 'I can hold it back without her now. It's hard but I can do it.'
'What else?' he asked.
'The rest we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? You'll know if I do it wrong, that's for sure.'
Hirad shook his head. 'I don't understand.'
'No, Hirad, you don't.' Erienne rose and moved towards the doors of the hall, all eyes on her. 'You don't know what it's like to go to sleep at night and wonder what state your mind will be in when you wake. You'll never have to experience the dread of using a magic you barely comprehend and that has the capacity to destroy you utterly. And you'll never once wonder, when you uncap the power, if the casting you make will help the people you love the most or instead kill them in an instant. That's me, Hirad. Me.'
Hirad listened to her footsteps echoing away towards the stairs to their two small rooms; all that Blackthorne could spare.
'Sorry, Denser. I didn't mean . . .'
'It's all right,' said the Xeteskian. 'She's finding it difficult right now. When she gets used to Cleress not being there, I'm sure she'll be less moody.'
'Sure?'
Denser looked squarely at him and sighed. 'Actually, Hirad, I haven't got a clue. That's the most she's said about the One for ten days. I think you might even have done me a favour.'
'We're all here for her, you know,' said Hirad, feeling guilt grip his heart.
'She knows that. But sometimes I think she's so alone in her mind that not even we can be of any real use. That's hard.'
'Here,' said Blackthorne, pushing the decanter across the table. 'Fill your glasses. I don't pretend to understand any of what I've just heard so I'm going to change the subject in as obvious a fashion as I can muster.'
He waited for all their glasses to be charged then lifted his. The crystal caught the candlelight and the smooth red liquid within danced and sparkled.
'I'd rather Erienne were here but still, there's always tomorrow. To The Raven. To mankind across Balaia and to the endless support of the elven nation. May we all live to look back on this when we're old and infirm.'
They drank. It didn't ease Hirad's sense of guilt about Erienne and what he had forced her to reveal but it did lighten the mood.
'So,' said Blackthorne. 'What was this third thing?'
'It's a difficult one,' said The Unknown. 'There's something we're going to need you to consider very carefully. It may never come to this but if it does, you'll receive a message, I promise you that.'
'Go on.'
'It's something you must do. You must make contingency for abandoning Blackthorne and for travelling north to Xetesk with everyone you can save.'
Blackthorne's glass had paused midway to his lips. 'Gods drowned, Unknown, why?'
'Because if we don't make it, it could be the only chance the rest of you have to give the demons one final bloody nose. Now, I know you say you've heard nothing from any other pockets of resistance. But not all of your scouts have failed to return, surely?'
Blackthorne smiled. 'There are always methods of getting information. I'll tell you what I know.'
Chapter 20.
The Unknown Warrior watched the three Protectors jog away up the western side of the Bay of Gyernath, the elven mage Vituul with them. Ahead of the group was a journey nominally the lesser of two evils. They would have to avoid contact with Wesmen and take one of the mountain passes to the north of Understone Pass to bring them within a few hours of the walls of Xetesk.
Ule, Ryn and Qex had made their goodbyes to their brothers Ark and Kas, and to Sol the one to whom they all looked now they were free. For his part, The Unknown felt as they did, that it was unlikely that they would all stand together again. By the time The Raven reached Xetesk, he couldn't conceive that they would all have survived.
'We can't afford one error,' said The Unknown when the longboat had put in to the bay to head back to the Calaian Sun. 'If Blackthorne's information is anywhere near accurate, Balaia is in a far more desperate position than we feared.'
'They will not fail us,' said Ark.
'Dammit but we're so thin on the ground.' The Unknown scratched his shaven head. 'I wish there was some other way.'
'Don't think that way,' said Darrick, who had accompanied them to issue final orders and check they understood exactly what they were to relay to Dystran, assuming the Lord of the Mount still lived. 'We've passed the point of no return. We can't afford to worry at the corners of what has been decided. A change now could be catastrophic. And even if they don't make it to Xetesk, we have to be confident we'll make it, though vital preparation time will have been lost.'
'You're right, I know,' said The Unknown. 'But there's no contingency. No back-up.'
'Like there was when you went to cast Dawnthief, you mean, or when the Noonshade rip was closed?' Darrick's tight brown curls blew about his head in the offshore breeze.
The Unknown raised an eyebrow. 'Funny, but it seemed different then. For all the risk we faced, I didn't give any serious thought to failure.'
'And you do now?'