Chapter 43.
'I have your signature, my Dragonene. We are coming.'
Sha-Kaan broke the contact with Hirad Coldheart and wheeled in the air. In the day since their last contact, he had probed the human's mind and found it stressed and active, denying him safe access. And during that same time the damaging battle in the skies of Beshara had finally burned itself out but the cost to the dragon population and that able to travel with him had been severe.
Almost four hundred dragons had perished in flame and fall, taking from him more than a fifth of those who had originally assembled on the plains and offered such hope. Now, they numbered a little over fourteen hundred. It would have to be enough.
Around him, the Kaan and most of the Naik circled, guarding against further trouble. Yasal was on the ground, talking with representatives of the recently warring broods while those that had taken no part were flying distant defensive patterns. It would take time to gather them all and Sha-Kaan was not confident that all would come.
He rose high above the circling Kaan and Naik and gouted flame long into the clear sky. He roared and dived, pulsing out his message, demanding their attention and their respect.
'Our time is now,' he sent. 'Gather in the skies, my allied broods. Put aside your petty squabbles. We are already weakened and we cannot afford further diminution of our strengths. The battle for our futures and for all those of our melde dimensions begins for us.
'Fly, my friends. Fly to me.'
Sha-Kaan dipped below his brood who were forming up as they had drilled. Around them, Naik did likewise. From the ground, he saw the dust flood the air, a thousand wings beating skywards. The pulse message would be passed out among the Stara, Veret and Gost. Soon those that still believed would come.
Yasal-Naik barked his relief that the call had finally come through.
'So your human has survived and made his journey.'
Sha-Kaan pulsed feelings of warmth and pride. 'Did I not tell you he was tenacious? I never doubted him.'
'Then you were alone.'
'I alone understand his capabilities.' Sha-Kaan turned his head to Yasal as they flew side by side. 'And what were the results of your diplomacy, young Naik?'
'I have salvaged much of the support but none will fly with the Skoor. They are dismissed and with them must go an equal number of Kaan and Naik to ensure they do not abuse their temporary advantage in our skies.'
'It is as much as I could have hoped,' said Sha-Kaan. 'But it leaves us a further eighty mouths short. We take with us barely more than thirteen hundred to do battle with our enemy.'
'Then we must all fight as hard as two,' said Yasal.
Sha-Kaan inclined his head in respect. 'You have grown, Yasal. It makes me almost glad this crisis fell upon us.'
'And I, Great Kaan.' Yasal's mind pulsed regret. 'We have lost so many to each other over the cycles. Perhaps our future will be more productive.'
'We can rule the skies together.'
'Yes, we can.'
The two master dragons flew into the centre of the gathering. Though they were much reduced in number, the acreage of wing and scale remained truly awesome. The days of drills and organisation had benefited them in structure in the sky. Each brood was formed and solid. The outlying patrols swept and dove and the mass was prepared.
'Now is the time of greatest risk,' said Sha-Kaan. 'Now we will know whether our talk was believed.'
'Does it matter if it is not? If you see what I mean.'
'I do and to us perhaps it does not. But it matters to Hirad Coldheart. He expects and we must deliver.'
Sha-Kaan led Yasal high above the massed ranks of dragons. Beshara's last and only hope.
'Now is the moment of trust. You know me and you know my honour. Yes, many of us have battled in the past but now that must be consigned to history. Now we fight for our survival. And for that I give to each of you the trace signature of my Dragonene who sustains me.' He pulsed the signature.
'And now, I exhort you all to follow me. Save us, save every dimension we hold dear. Be ready to fight.'
He switched out of Beshara and drove through the void to Hirad Coldheart.
Tessaya's warriors were holding but only just. Elves were with them, their fast blades and skilled movement disrupting the ul-karron attacks. Reavers and strike-strain concentrated on attacks from above, quick-fire strikes that dealt swift death to those snatched but cost the enemy more than the allies.
The Lord of the Wesmen, flanked by four lieutenants, strode into the tower complex and demanded audience with Dystran and whoever else commanded the eastern forces, such as they were.
'They are in conference,' he was told by a callow youth, barely strong enough to hold the sword scabbarded at his waist. 'They cannot be disturbed.'
Tessaya hefted his axe meaningfully. A silence had descended on the complex, punctuated by the muted sounds of battle without and the rhythmic dripping of demon blood from his axe to the marble floor.
'And on what do they confer, boy?' he said quietly.
'The defence of the college,' said the youth. His face was red with anxiety and he couldn't keep his hands still.
'The defence which I alone conduct while they cower in their towers!' Tessaya's voice rang around the complex. In front of him, the youth jumped backwards. 'Get them down here now or so help me, boy, I will take my warriors and leave the demons to feast on your rotting souls.'
The youth hesitated.
'GO!'
The youth ran through into a curtained passage. Tessaya let his gaze travel around the people sitting in the complex. Some with swords resting on walls beside them. Some plainly mages, wringing their hands in their impotence.
'Is there not one of you with the desire to stand by me and live or die a hero? Yes, that's it . . . turn away. Block your ears to what happens beyond your cocoon. The Wesmen are dying for you. And this is how you demonstrate your gratitude?' Tessaya shook his head. 'There are those who have travelled the path of banishment by choice because they believe it the only way to victory. Each one of you I would gladly consign there as cowards in the face of battle.'
There was a rustling of bodies and the odd mutter.
'So prove me wrong,' said Tessaya. 'Stand with the Wesmen. Fight for your lives.'
Movement from the passage revealed itself to be Dystran and the Dordovan, Vuldaroq. Behind them came two women, one an elf, and two more men, both soldiers, both scarred from battle. Tessaya recognised both women and one of the men. All three should have been resting after their ordeal in the playhouse and before on the road from Julatsa. He had heard their stories.
'Lord Tessaya, you asked to see me,' said Dystran, smiling and opening his arms in welcome.
'I need support out there,' said Tessaya. 'You have men and mages idle. Give them to me. Right now, Wesmen and elves are keeping you alive. You have had your rest. It is time to fight.'
'Now we need to keep reserves and ensure the sanctity of the Heart. Our involvement will and must be on need alone.'
'That need is now,' growled Tessaya. 'My warriors die to protect you.' He pointed at Dila'heth and Pheone. 'Their people die to protect you. Be visible or we will leave you to your fate.'
'And what exactly do you suggest?' asked Dystran.
Tessaya sniffed. 'Spells will kill more enemy than swords ever will. We have seen that. Warriors will occupy their ul-karron, you must cast to destroy their commanders and their reserve.'
'My Lord Tessaya, you must know that we cannot cast inside the ColdRoom shells,' said Dystran.
'You must think me an ignorant savage,' said Tessaya, carefully holding onto his temper, 'if you think that pathetic excuse will impress me.'
'Now listen-'
'The elven mages stand at risk in the spaces between the castings they have made so we can fight and they do what they can. But they are not enough. Mages must travel outside the college. Come into the back of the demon lines and kill them where they wait the order to attack. Defence alone is no longer enough. It will not give The Raven time enough to act, should they be able to do so.'
Dystran paused and held up his hands in a placatory gesture. 'Now let's not get carried away. What you suggest sounds plausible but surely mages scattered outside the college will be committing suicide, not supporting the defence.'
'And is what we do for you any different? It is slow but we will be overwhelmed eventually. That is, unless we disrupt their chain of command and damage their morale and belief now. Now.'
'I'm sorry, Tessaya, but I will not commit my mages and warriors to battles they cannot win. Their souls are vulnerable in a way yours are not.'
'Vulnerability is no excuse for cowardice.' Tessaya took a pace towards Dystran, feeling his anger infuse his body. 'And that is what you are. You and all those that follow you and do your bidding. Cowards deserving of nothing but my contempt.'
'I will not stand by and let that slur stain me,' said the soldier Tessaya didn't recognise.
'And who are you, hiding behind your ruler's platitudes?'
'I am Chandyr, commander of the Xeteskian armies, such as they are.'
'Then stand by me, Chandyr. Fight for your freedom. You are clearly no stranger to battle. And you, Captain Suarav, my words do not apply to one such as you.'
'Chandyr, you will not walk outside of this complex without my express permission,' spat Dystran. 'I will not have this man making demands in my college.'
Chandyr walked calmly in front of Dystran. 'Go ahead and hide, Dystran. I will not do so. The fact is that Tessaya speaks wisely and you know he does. All stood here know that your decisions are based on your fear of the order of power should the demons be defeated and you will risk all of us to hang onto that power.'
'Commander Chandyr, I will say this just once,' began Dystran.
'Save it for someone who will listen,' said Chandyr. He tore the insignia from his chest and arms. 'I resign my commission and fight as a free man. And I encourage any who despair of your weakness to do the same.' Chandyr smiled. 'What of your power now? To cast to stop me you will have to place yourself at risk. I would like to see that, I really would. At least it would show some courage.'
Behind Chandyr, Tessaya nodded, knowing this man had true spirit. Here was a man he could respect and trust to fight next to him. Chandyr turned to him.
'Lord Tessaya, I place myself at your command.'
'As do I,' said Suarav.
'And already you are heroes. Come, let us do that which your leader dare not and try to save us all.' He jabbed a finger at Dystran. 'You have until dawn to schedule your remaining warriors and mages to the defence of this college or I will do it for you. Pheone, Dila'heth, I urge you, work with me.'
He turned and strode from the dome, his heart swelling with new belief and his brain racing with the possibilities. Should they defeat the demons, he would be the most powerful man on Balaia. He roared a battle cry and charged back into the fray in the dying light of a freezing day, his warriors at his back.
'How long is the journey?' asked Denser.
'I don't know,' said Hirad. 'But they are coming. We'll have warning, I'm sure.'
He turned his head to the scene outside the cave. Demons crowded the entrance. Some strains he recognised, some he did not. In the darkening sky, he saw reavers hovering, screeching orders at the lesser demons in front of them. He saw ul-karron beating on the face of the Cone; and there were other, smaller wingless demons, completely hairless and pure white. Their thin fingers leeched into the Cone, trying to disrupt the construct. So far it was holding but there were signs of stress on Eilaan's face.
'How long can he hold on?' asked Thraun.
'Hard to say,' said Erienne. 'He will let us know if he comes under serious threat.'
The cave was quiet and warm. They were trying to relax. Erienne had slept for a long period and looked a little refreshed. Ark and The Unknown also slept as did the elven warrior trio. Outside, the cacophony would be undimmed but Denser's casting of a SoundBell had shut off the din, leaving them in a bubble of relative calm.
'We know Denser can cast the same spell. What can you do?' asked Hirad.
'Something similar but I'd be loath to try it. I need my strength, Hirad, and I don't need to experiment with new castings right now.'
'But if we had to call on you?'
'Hirad, do you really have to ask?'
The barbarian smiled. 'No. Just making conversation. All right, let's try something else. How far does Eilaan reckon the power source is?'
'Close. Probably no more than a short run,' said Denser. 'It's impossible to say after that.'
'What will it be?'
Denser scratched at his beard. 'Gods, Hirad, how the hell do you expect me to know that? All we can tell is that it's a massive mana construct and it is driving mana out of this dimension and obviously into ours. There's still a significant density here but it's interesting that where we landed there was a relative lack. Whatever it is they have done, it is attracting mana into a huge concentration to pump it out.'
'What's interesting about that?'
'Well, that as far as our writings are concerned, what is happening is impossible. That makes whoever is doing this very powerful indeed. And we have to kill it or them. And that's after we get through the hordes waiting outside our front door.'
'Should be fun.'
'I very much doubt it,' said Erienne.
'Now, surely it's your turn to get some rest, Hirad,' said Denser.
'What makes you say that?'
'Because your inane questioning is setting my teeth on edge.'
Hirad thought to retort but when he considered it, was too tired. The hours they'd had behind the ForceCone had allowed Denser and Erienne to deliver a few key healing casts and they were as fit as they would ever be. But nothing was going to take away the raw fatigue.
Hirad lay back on his pack, punching it into an acceptable pillow and trying to ignore the stink. He closed his eyes and was immediately suffused by feelings of warmth and speed.
'No time for rest, my Dragonene. We are come.'
Hirad shot to his feet. 'Game time, everyone. Hope you're feeling good. We're about to get help.'
Chapter 44.