Once the focal point of trade and travel both east and west of the pass, the town had fallen first to disuse, then to disrepair, following the surrender of the pass to the Wesmen. All that remained was a poorly provisioned garrison of first-tour career soldiers paid for by the Korina Trade Alliance, though the parlous state of that organisation scarcely warranted the name, such was its fading reputation.
Seventy-five men made up the total defence against incursion from the west, an incursion that none in the KTA believed would happen after the first five years of quiet.
How times change. In the aftermath of Travers' extraordinarily brave but ultimately doomed defence of the pass, Understone was fortified and garrisoned with three thousand men. With the entire eastern part of Balaia deemed under threat, no cost was too much in ensuring the Wesmen got no further than daylight the other side of the pass. Temporary accommodation was built, and traders, prostitutes, entertainers and innkeepers saw their best-ever years. But it didn't last. The Wesmen never attacked again. It seemed, after five years, that control of the pass and the tolls Tessaya could exact was the limit of their ambition.
Why they took the pass was a question left unanswered at the time. In the years before the series of battles that led to Travers' defeat, an uneasy peace had been maintained, allowing trade from the richer east to flow west, opening up new markets and developing new industries. But now nine years after the fall of the pass, the situation was unfortunately clear. The Wesmen had taken the pass as a precursor to the eventual return of the Wytch Lords.
The town of Understone stood no more than four hundred yards from the thirty-feet-high by twenty-five-feet-wide open black arch that was the entrance to Understone Pass. To either side, the mountains spread up and away, rolling into hills and scrubland which stretched as far as the eye could see, north, east and south. It was a bleak but beautiful sight, the town standing squarely in the middle of a carved wagon trail, its tumbledown houses littering neighbouring hills or jostling for position on the inadequate flatter spaces away from the main street.
It was bleaker still when the rains came, as they often did, clouds sweeping over the mountains on the prevailing wind to disgorge their contents on the hapless inhabitants below.
Flooding, mudslides, subsidence, all had left their scars on the town, whose solution to the rains was a lattice of drainage trenches probing in all downhill directions. They had worked well but disrepair now limited their effectiveness and the floods had returned. The main street was ankle deep in a thick, clogging mud, its stench rising with the sun.
The unannounced arrival of more than five hundred men and elves from the four Colleges caused panic in the small garrison. While a few stood in the way of the mounted force, most disappeared into buildings or ran shouting for their commanding officer. By the time he had dragged his way from an old inn, buttoning his tunic over his ample belly as he came thrashing through the mud, only twelve conscripts remained. It was pitiable.
The garrison commander looked past General Ry Darrick at the long line of horsemen who filled his town's main street almost end to end. He looked at those of his men who had chosen to stand their ground and nodded his thanks before facing Darrick, who leaned forward in his saddle, not even honouring the man by dismounting.
'And this is how you would face those who would take our lands,' said Darrick.
The commander smiled. 'No,' he replied. 'Because those who would take our lands would hardly draw breath while slaughtering so small a garrison. Whom do I address?'
'I am Darrick, General, Lystern cavalry. And you are Kerus, commander of the garrison standing at the gates of hell.'
For a second time, Kerus frowned, gauging the meaning both of Darrick's words and of the weight of numbers behind him. Choosing to keep the rest of the conversation private, he walked through the mud to stand by Darrick's chestnut-brown mare.
'General Darrick. What I have here are seventy-five men, none of whom is above nineteen. They have been sent here to patrol the area outside the pass and to deal with any raiders who might come through. They were never expected to repel an invading army because no army will ever come through the pass. And now, I must ask you, what is your business in Understone?'
'Preparing to repel the invading army that you say doesn't exist. I have five thousand foot two days behind me.'
'Perhaps we had better talk in my quarters,' said Kerus.
'Perhaps we had.'
Chapter 19.
It was late afternoon. Will had the wood burner firing and a pot of water bubbled on top of it. No light could be seen.
'I'm astonished, frankly,' said Denser. 'We didn't meet another soul. How likely is that?' He, Ilkar and Hirad had walked away a few yards to talk. Jandyr and Thraun were seeing to the horses and Erienne had already put her head down to sleep.
'He's a good tracker, I'll give him that,' said Hirad.
'Good! It's hardly desolate out here. We didn't even hear anyone. It's extraordinary.'
'Not only that, half the time we didn't hear him ourselves,' agreed Ilkar.
'All right. Meeting of the Thraun appreciation society closed,' said Hirad. 'What about Dordover?'
Denser gestured for Ilkar to speak.
'It's the largest of the College Cities. It is more closely linked to Xetesk than Julatsa and has a history of allegiance with Denser's lot, although they now barely talk. It wouldn't make our job any easier if they did. One thing you have to understand is that the colleges guard their lore more jealously than any other possession. What we are about to steal is part of Dordover's lore.'
'So it'll be protected.'
'Yes, but not by people. Spells,' said Ilkar. 'That's our problem. Wards, alarms, traps, all coded. If the wrong person moves in their sphere, they'll be triggered.'
'So how?' asked Hirad.
'Our only choice, unfortunately, is Erienne,' said Denser.
'Why unfortunately?'
'Because we shouldn't be asking her to take such a direct part in this theft. She's already torn apart by losing her sons. I wonder whether this might not be one thing too many for her to take.'
'I know,' said Hirad. 'But if she's only telling us what to do . . .'
'You misunderstand,' said Denser. 'She'll have to go in.'
'So we're talking of sending Will and Thraun into this place in the company of a woman who's out of her mind with grief and was schooled just around the corner, to steal a ring which is central to her beliefs.'
'That is a very accurate summary,' said Denser.
'Do they know she's coming?' asked Hirad.
'Yes, of course,' said Denser. 'Just one more thing. There's to be no killing, Erienne will not stand for it.'
'Want me to lop their hands off too?'
'Sorry, Hirad.'
'Let's hope we're not all sorry before tomorrow.' He moved away and called to Thraun before turning back. 'So before we met Erienne, what was the plan?'
Ilkar and Denser exchanged a glance and the cat raised its head.
'It is possible to subvert weaker minds remotely, given time,' replied Denser.
'Believe me, you don't want to know the details,' said Ilkar.
Hirad nodded and walked over to the stove.
Styliann rattled his glass back on to the table, his eyes blazing, his face colouring red in the lanternlight of his study.
'The Protectors are under my direct control. No one assigns a Protector without my prior authorisation. Not even you.'
'But the situation, my Lord . . .' began Nyer.
'Should have been discussed with me,' said Styliann. 'I do not like the flouting of my authority. And I particularly do not like your choice of Protector.'
'Sol is extremely capable.'
'You know precisely what I am talking about,' snapped Styliann. 'You will recall him at once.'
Nyer dropped his eyes to the floor and nodded his head. 'Naturally, my Lord. If that is your wish.'
'Damn you, Nyer, I don't know!' said Styliann. He poured the older man a drink. 'What has got into you? You always discuss such matters with me. Always.'
'You were in conference at Triverne Lake. I felt a decision had to be made.'
Styliann considered and nodded. 'Very well. Let the Protector stay. At least until after Dordover. But keep me closely informed of progress. I want a full account of all communions and I would hate to have to employ TruthTell to be sure you were telling me everything. '
Nyer recoiled as if slapped, but recovered to smile. 'I suppose I deserved that,' he said. 'Selyn is well?'
'Considering the invading armies of the Wesmen trampled her toes on the way to Understone, yes.' Styliann sucked his lip nervously.
'She'll make it, you know.'
'Thank you for your thoughts.' The Lord of the Mount rang the bell by the fire. 'I need to rest. Please don't work behind my back again.' His expression was bleak. Nyer left in response to the opening of the door. Styliann sighed. He wouldn't have believed it of Nyer, he really wouldn't.
Erienne, with a few brief words to Denser and a squeeze of his hand, left the camp well before sundown alongside Thraun and Will. Unlike Xetesk, Dordover was not a closed city and the trio rode through the gates under the disinterested gaze of the west gate guards two hours later.
'I couldn't bear to go back to the house,' said Erienne when they were seated at a table downstairs from the rooms they had taken for the night at a quiet inn near the College.
'I understand,' said Thraun. 'When this is over, we'll sort the place out for you.'
Erienne nodded her thanks, tears again threatening behind the sunken, dark-ringed eyes in her pale face. 'So many memories, so much happiness. And now . . .' She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the table, pushing her hair back over her ears.
'We'll help you through this,' said Will. 'We'll always be here for you.'
Erienne reached out a hand and squeezed Will's arm. She breathed in and composed herself. 'Now listen,' she said. 'Although Dordover is far more open than somewhere like Xetesk, the College has strict rules concerning visitors. You're not allowed in the College grounds after full dark, so please, take my lead and try not to say too much.'
'Will you be recognised?' asked Thraun.
'I expect so, near the College anyway. I spent a lot of years here, after all.'
Food and drink arrived at the table.
'Let's eat,' said Erienne. 'Then we need to get out to the College. We won't gain entry after dark.'
The College itself consisted of a group of ten or so buildings arranged in a rough circle around the 'Tower'. That the Tower looked nothing like its name suggested it should was something Will was quick to point out.
The trio were walking up to the single gate of the walled-in college, and the Tower, in actuality a twin-winged four-storey mansion house, lay directly ahead of them.
'There used to be a tower before the College was formalised as a centre of excellence in magic,' explained Erienne. 'It was the done thing about four hundred years ago, I think, but completely impractical. When the College developed around it, the Tower was eventually demolished to make way for the house. Only Xetesk retains towers. They've got seven, and that's a reflection of the College hierarchy's thinking.' She couldn't quite keep the sneer from her voice. 'Everyone else has moved with the times.'
'So what was the point of a Tower, if you'll excuse the pun?' asked Thraun.
'They were a symbol of power and authority.' Erienne shrugged. 'Phallic symbols for men whose mana ability was less than their egos demanded. Pathetic, really.'
At the gate they were stopped by a single guard who, after a moment's reflection, recognised the mage in front of him.
'Erienne,' he said kindly. 'It's been a few years since you came here.'
'We all have to fly the coop sometime, Geran, but it's good to see you.' The guard smiled, then looked at Will and Thraun. 'Friends of my husband,' said Erienne. 'I've had a little trouble, I'm afraid.' Her voice caught and she stopped.
'And now you're here for some help.'
'Something like that.'
Geran stepped aside. 'You know the rules on visitors,' he said.
Erienne nodded and walked past him. 'I'll see they don't encroach. '
'How is Alun, by the way?' asked Geran.
Erienne stiffened but carried on walking, not turning. Thraun came to Geran's shoulder.
'That's the trouble. He's dead. And the boys.'
Geran's face fell. 'I'm-'
'I know. Best left.'
It was close on two hundred yards to the Tower from the gate. To their left, a line of stubby wooden windowed huts - classrooms - arced away, and to their right a long, shuttered building, metalled and black.
'It's where range spells are practised and new spells live-tested. It has to be strong,' said Erienne, stopping to look. 'Did you know that across the Colleges one in fifty mages die in their long rooms and test chambers? No, of course you didn't. You thought we all just wake up one morning able to cast. There never has been enough respect for the dangers we face in training and research. You think it's a gift, but to us it's a calling we have no choice but to obey. We don't walk in here, they find us and bring us.'
'Take it easy, Erienne.' Thraun, taken aback by her sudden anger, put a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off and began walking again.
'Behind the Tower is another place to dread. The Mana Bowl. That's where mages learn to accept, build and control mana. Next door is the ward where the ones who opened their minds too far too soon lie gibbering and drooling until death takes them. Mercifully, that isn't usually too long.'
She marched up a short flight of stone steps, across a paved relief and hammered on the massive oak doors that fronted the Tower. The left-hand one swung open silently and a man stepped out. He was old beyond anything they had seen or even dreamed. White hair cascaded below his shoulders and his mouth was obscured by a grey-flecked beard. While his body was bent with age and he supported himself on two sticks, his eyes were a clear blue, flashing from a face wrinkled and rolled into a grotesque caricature of the man he once was. But the eyes gave him strength and Erienne bowed to him.
'Master of the Tower, I am Erienne. I seek knowledge in the library.'
He considered her for a moment before nodding.
'Indeed,' he said in a voice brittle and quiet. 'And your companions? ' He gestured vaguely with one stick.
'They guard me.'
'They may enter the hall but go no further.'
'I know, Tower Master.' Erienne wrung her hands.