Chapter 22.
'It's exciting being in The Raven, isn't it?' said Hirad, leaning back against his tree and stretching his legs in front of him.
'Feeling more comfortable about it now, are you?' asked Ilkar.
'No, I'm feeling surplus to requirements.'
'Well, you're not.'
'You know what I mean.'
The campsite was clear. All equipment was stowed and tied to the saddles, and the three horses, which included Denser's, were tethered just a few yards away.
Hirad smiled, remembering his friend's urgent words as they scurried around the camp to clear it. And now they'd been sitting with their backs to trees for getting on for an hour. He thought he ought to be worried about what was going on in Dordover, but for some reason, apart from his remaining anger at Denser, he felt oddly calm. Maybe it was just that none of them was original Raven so he didn't care that much. Actually, that was certainly part of it, but there was more - there were some of them, Thraun and Jandyr in particular, in whom he found he had great confidence. Almost the sort of confidence he had had in The Unknown and Sirendor. Almost.
Sadness fell on him with the force of night, and the memories swept through his mind, images of death and loss overwhelming the good times he recalled so fleetingly. Ras dying as they fought around him; Richmond trying to defend a man he didn't even know and paying with his life; The Unknown, his blood soaking the earth outside the low barn; and Sirendor . . . Sirendor, his life draining away while all Hirad could do was watch. For all his great words, he hadn't been able to protect any of them, and now Talan was gone too, driven away by fear and the knowledge that if he stayed on his death was inevitable.
He wiped at his eyes and looked over at Ilkar. Gods help him if he lost Ilkar, his only link to The Raven he loved and for which he had lived.
His heart began to race and his breathing shallowed. It was all beyond his control. There in Dordover, the fate of the new Raven, and perhaps that of Balaia, was being decided, and he was on the edge. A peripheral figure reduced to saddling horses and clearing campsites. Maybe they'd been right those short weeks ago in another life when they'd joked about his age. It was no joke. He'd slipped from leader to led and he hadn't noticed the change. Denser. Denser had done it. And the one thing he couldn't have was Denser in command of The Raven. Not after what he had caused.
He lifted a shaking hand to wipe across his nose and took a slow, deliberate breath, glancing again at Ilkar, hoping his fears weren't written for all to see. But Ilkar wasn't looking at him. He'd cocked his head to one side and, as Hirad watched, put an ear to the ground, hands either side, and tensed.
Hirad was already halfway up by the time Ilkar said: 'Someone's coming.'
'Let's hope it's them.'
'Well, I'm not standing around waiting to find out.' They ran for the horses but had not covered half the distance when light bloomed behind them, creating a false dawn, sweeping away the night and throwing sharp shadow ahead of it. A heartbeat later, the detonation and a noise like rushing water.
The horses bucked and pulled at their tethers. Hirad clutched at his mount's bridle, dodging a flailing front hoof and coming face against a wild rolling eye.
'I don't like the sound of that!' he shouted, trying in vain to calm his horse as he tugged to release the rein.
'No time,' gasped Ilkar. 'Just get on.' His horse was calmer, and Denser's, after flinching violently at the light, was still.
'On this?' Hirad hauled the rein free and his mount whinnied, front legs pawing the ground. 'We're going, we're going!' He hooked a foot into a stirrup while the mare jumped and snorted, threatening to bolt before he hit the saddle. 'Calm down, damn you!' He swung on to its back and forced some semblance of order on the terrified beast. As he turned it, a wolf streaked into the clearing from the direction of the light and away into the forest the other side. His horse reared again. He couldn't hold it.
Above the rushing sound, hoofbeats, and Denser broke cover.
'Go, go,' he yelled, and plunged off after the wolf. Erienne galloped through, holding an arm in front of her face to ward off branches, and behind her came Jandyr and a riderless horse, followed by Sol with the body of Will across his saddle. None of them paused in their flight.
Hirad fought his horse in desperate circles as it champed and kicked, too scared to run in any direction. And then as it slowed to a stop, quivering before bolting, Hirad looked into the light and saw what the rushing sound was. Fire. Moving towards him, engulfing tree, bush and grass faster than a man could run.
'Oh, dear God!' He hauled on the reins and jabbed his heels in hard. The horse responded. Into the fire was certain death. At least following the wolf gave them a chance.
And as he began to gallop into the forest, Hirad couldn't shake the vision of the wolf from his mind. If they weren't chasing it, there was only one reason why they should be following it, and that reason made Hirad's stomach lurch.
Ilkar drew to Erienne's side as they exited the forest a few hundred yards from the clearing. He'd lost sight of Hirad and could barely hear the other horses he knew were around him, the roar of the FlameOrb was so loud. That it was a type of FlameOrb he had no doubt. How they'd managed to create one so big and powerful was another matter.
'When will it burn out?' he yelled at Erienne.
'The forest is fuelling it, it won't reach far past the borders.'
'How did they do it?'
'ManaStack. It's a co-operative spell casting. I knew they were working on it but I had no idea they'd applied it to the FlameOrb. It's very draining, they'll all be spent who cast it.'
'Then why are we still running?' asked Ilkar.
Erienne began to rein in and, further ahead, could see that Denser had reached the same conclusion. In fifty yards, the dash was over and, horses wheeled, they lined up to see the FlameOrb spend itself at the edge of the forest.
'Where is he?' whispered Ilkar. 'Where is he?' The yellow bloom of the FlameOrb grew as it thrashed towards them. Above it, a thick cloud of woodsmoke cluttered the night sky, obscuring the stars. On the grassland in front of the tree line, the shadows lengthened at a frightening pace as the flames demolished an area of woodland easily seventy yards across. With a great whoosh it broke clear of the confines of the trees and expired in the open air, and as the last flame faded to orange and disappeared, Ilkar saw a single silhouetted figure on horseback, riding hard towards them.
The elf let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding and his face cracked into a grin. He looked across the line of horses, caught Denser's eye and nodded. Denser raised his eyebrows.
'Not easy to lose, is he?' he said.
'No,' agreed Ilkar. His face hardened. 'Right, Erienne, what can we expect now?'
'The casting mages will be spent but there may be others. There were certainly some soldiers in the pack. No doubt they'll be behind the flame.'
'And not far behind it,' said Jandyr. 'Look.' Ilkar followed his hand and saw seven or eight people running out of the forest. And, skimming the trees, a pair of mages.
'Damn,' said Ilkar. 'Can we outrun them?' Erienne shrugged her shoulders. Hirad pulled up, his face red with exertion, his horse shaking all over.
'Too close,' he said. 'Too bloody close.'
'It's not over yet. We've got ten to deal with,' said Ilkar.
Hirad turned his body and stared behind him, squinting slightly into the half-light from the stars and the fires still burning in the forest. He slid off his horse. 'We'll take them here.'
'We've got two mages in the sky,' said Ilkar.
Hirad shrugged. 'So shield us. You're the best there is.' He looked right and left. All but Sol were still on their horses. Gods, he'd have to drill them. The Raven would have been in skirmish formation by now. If they weren't all dead. Sol was already striding forwards, unhitching his sword as he went. At least someone knew what was going on.
'Jandyr, to Sol's left. I'll take the right. Where's Thraun?'
'No time to explain, but-'
'He's a shapechanger. Gods alive!' said Hirad. He pushed the knowledge from his mind. 'We can do it with three swords. How many of them are there?'
'Eight swords, two spells.' Ilkar began readying the shield. 'Either of you two know HardShield?'
'I can't cast,' said Denser, drawing his sword.
'Yes,' said Erienne.
'Good. Get it over our heads, I can sort the magical attacks. Denser, put your sword up and go away with the horses. Send Thraun back if you see him.' Ilkar locked eyes with the Xeteskian for a moment. The latter put up his blade, whistled to his horse and trotted away behind them.
Thirty yards and closing Hirad felt a double surge as the magical and hard shields went up around them. Jandyr loosed off an arrow, taking down one man. He thought to try another, but they were closing too fast. The enemy mages landed to cast; a spell clattered against the shield, flashing orange as it died.
Hirad breathed deep and roared to clear his head. Just like the old days except they weren't so old. The enemy were splitting, trying to flank them. He glanced over at Sol. The masked man stared straight ahead, taking in the scene, concentration so complete it could almost be felt. Just like . . . Hirad became aware of a sound and looked to the ground in front of Sol. The Protector was tapping the tip of his blade rhythmically against the ground. Hirad almost dropped his, clutching it as the nerves returned to his muscles. Just like the old days.
'Unknown!' he shouted. Sol turned to him, and there, in his eyes, was the unmistakable flicker of recognition.
'Fight,' he said, his voice laden with sorrow.
'But . . .' began Hirad.
'Fight,' said Sol again. From nowhere, Thraun smashed into the enemy's left flank and battle was joined.
Nothing could stop Hirad. No one could stand in his way and he almost felt sorrow for the hapless Dordovan soldiers as they were systematically destroyed. His heart was full of joy, the back of his mind full of confusion, but his fighting brain was irresistible.
As the first man went down under Thraun's jaws, the enemy strategy fell to pieces. Hirad battered the nearest skull, while beside him the big man slaughtered two without even moving his feet. Sensing Jandyr holding his own, Hirad strode forwards, slitting the stomach of one, parrying a blow from a second then slicing his sword through the attacker's hamstrings as he was forced around. The two remaining men turned and fled, their mages close behind them.
'Shield down,' said Ilkar, staring at Sol. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'
'Are you kidding?' asked Hirad, his face alight. He wiped his bloodied blade on one of his victims and resheathed it. 'Ilkar, it's him! I don't know how, I don't care, but it's him!'
'Please, Hirad,' implored Ilkar. 'This isn't the time.'
'What do you mean?' The smile was fading from Hirad's lips.
'Just bear with me. We have to get away from here first, then we can talk.' Ilkar started walking in the direction of Denser. The elf could see the Xeteskian's face and knew at once that he had no idea of Sol's former identity.
'Hang on.' Hirad tugged at Ilkar's shoulder. 'Has this got something to do with him being a Protector?'
Ilkar stopped and faced him. 'Everything.' He held up a hand against Hirad's next utterance. 'And Denser knew nothing. He has no say over the choice. Please, let's go.' He was moving again, leaving Hirad to throw his arms up. Thraun loped by.
'And what about him?' demanded Hirad. 'How are we supposed to deal with him?'
'He won't harm you,' said Jandyr. 'Please let him be.'
'You can't just . . .' began Hirad. Sol strode past him. 'Unknown, please!' Sol didn't falter. 'Will someone tell me what is going on!' Hirad shouted.
'Later,' said Ilkar.
'Now.'
'No, Hirad, we can't stay here. The Dordovans will be back. We've got to find a place to hide.' Ilkar jabbed a finger at Denser. 'This may not be your doing but have you any idea what Xetesk has just uncorked? I cannot believe that even they could be so stupid!' He shook his head.
'Neither can I,' said Denser. Hirad saw him look at Sol, close his eyes and rub a hand over his face. 'Neither can I.'
Hirad stood it for half an hour as they rode hard away from Dordover, heading for the Blackthorne Mountains. And when he could take it no more, he drove them off the trail and into some low hills, stopping in the lee of a crag, completely hidden by the road.
He watched in silence as Sol helped the now conscious Will off his horse. The thief sat down, looking at no one, taking in nothing, staring inside of himself. Jandyr walked across and sat next to him, trying to get through, but there was no reaction. Sol walked away a few paces and sat down himself, stroking the Familiar, while Erienne moved to Denser. Thraun trotted away into the gloom and disappeared.
'First things first,' said Hirad. 'The Unknown.'
'Is it him?' asked Denser. He was filling his pipe, standing in between Ilkar and Hirad.
'Shouldn't I be asking you that question?' asked Ilkar.
'I don't know.'
'It's him. Tell me how it's him, how he's not dead and tell me why there's a problem, because you two obviously think there is.' Hirad looked across at Sol again. 'Gods, I don't know why there should be. The Unknown coming back could make all the difference. ' He smiled briefly. 'Well?'
Denser breathed deep. 'I may as well tell you. I knew The Unknown was a Protector. That night after we'd buried him, I was on watch. I heard the demons taking his soul.'
'And you didn't see fit to let us know?' Ilkar was stunned.
'What would have been the point?' snapped Denser. 'You were in bad enough shape as it was. All I'd have done was ruin your memory of him by claiming him as a native Xeteskian who'd denied his lineage. I mean, do you think you would have believed me?'
'No, probably not,' said Hirad after a time. 'But if you knew . . .'
'Never in my wildest dreams did I think he'd be assigned to me. If I'd thought so for one moment I'd never have accepted him.'
'Not good enough, eh?'
'Hirad!' warned Ilkar.
'What does it matter anyway?' asked Hirad, moving away a little and gesturing at Sol. 'Let's get that ridiculous mask off and get on with it.' Silence. 'What?'
'Hirad, I can't take the mask off him,' said Denser.
'Well, I'll do it then.'
'No!' Denser voice rose to a shout. He quietened it instantly. 'No. You don't understand. If the mask comes off, he'll be destroyed. Eternally.' He chewed nervously at his unlit pipe and took it back out of his mouth. 'If you say that The Unknown's mind is in Sol's body, then I believe you. But you must realise that he is no longer The Unknown Warrior. He's changed. He's a Protector, he's Sol. There's nothing I can do.'
'You can change him back, that's what you can do.' Hirad's face was stone.
'He can't, Hirad,' said Ilkar. 'That's not The Unknown, not any more.'
'No? He recognised me, Ilkar. Didn't you see?'
'He what?' Ilkar leaned forward.
'He knew me. I called him and he knew me.' Hirad shook his head. 'He tapped his blade before he fought. No one else does that.' Hirad's voice was edged with desperation. 'It's him. It can't be anyone else.'
Ilkar turned on Denser. 'Got an explanation for that? I understood that all life memories were blanked.' Denser stared at the ground. 'Tell me that's true,' demanded the elf. 'Tell me.' Denser looked up and held his gaze, his eyes moist. He shook his head. 'Oh, no,' breathed Ilkar. He fell back a pace and turned to where Sol - The Unknown Warrior - sat, his mask facing them. He could all but taste the big man's desolation. 'Gods, Unknown. I am so sorry.'
'Ilkar, please?' Hirad put a hand on his shoulder.
'He remembers everything,' said Ilkar. 'Don't you see? He remembers The Raven, The Rookery, all our fights, all those years. His whole life! And he can't ever speak of it or acknowledge it. Ever.'