'What are you talking about?'
'He's in thrall, Hirad. His soul is held by the Mount of Xetesk. If he steps out of line, they will make what he's going through now seem like a Raven party. He'll be dying for eternity.'
Hirad let what Ilkar had said sink in. He walked slowly over to The Unknown and squatted in front of him, gazing deep into his eyes. And there he could see the lifetime of pain and loneliness that lay ahead. Mapped out in those orbs was all that had gone before. Everything. But it was locked away. Lost behind a mask of Xeteskian domination.
'I'm going to get you out of there, Unknown.' Hirad stood up and stalked back to Denser, not seeing the single shake of the masked head behind him.
'Never mind that it's The Unknown,' spat Ilkar. 'You knew what he was going through by the mere fact that he was a Protector.'
'I know! I can't reverse three thousand years of calling. Do you think I want this?' Denser gestured at The Unknown and searched the faces of Hirad and Ilkar. 'I can't begin to make you understand how sorry I am. Please understand that I never wanted this.'
'You know, I'm tired of your apologies, Denser.' Hirad moved in, menacing. 'Everything bad that's happened to The Raven has happened because of you. And not just all my friends who have died on your behalf. All those times when you-' he prodded Denser in the chest - 'you could have killed the rest of us. It's all down to you, this mess, and I've had it. Until you help The Unknown, I'm no longer with you, can you understand that?'
Denser removed his pipe from his mouth 'I realise this is difficult, but I really . . .'
'But nothing, Denser!' Hirad pushed Denser away, the mage stumbling backwards but keeping his footing. 'Through the rip, you risked everything because you were curious. You were going to kill Talan because he couldn't handle it - make The Unknown kill him. With Sha-Kaan, you risked my life without even blinking, and just now you chanced the lives of four people because your precious cat was in trouble, not to mention mine and Ilkar's in your haste to get away.'
'I don't think you're being quite fair.'
'Quite fair? It's all down to your mistakes, your haste and your pig-headed arrogance that we're this deep in trouble. I told you to leave it to The Raven but you always had to do it your own way. I told you we survived by being a team but you wouldn't listen. And now,' Hirad moved in again, his nose right at Denser's, 'now the final insult. Him.' He pointed behind him at The Unknown. 'You're telling us you have to leave him in hell and yet you still expect us to ride with you?'
'There's nothing I can do.' Denser shrugged.
Hirad snapped, grabbed him by the collar and hauled him almost off his feet. 'I'll tell you what you can do, Xetesk man. You can commune with your masters and you can tell them that until they release my friend from thrall it's all over. No Dawnthief, no victory. Reckon you can tell them that?'
'Let me go, Hirad.'
'Reckon you can tell them that?' Hirad repeated, barking his words, spittle flying into Denser's face.
'It'll make no difference. They won't release him.'
Hirad looked over at Sol, sorrow swamping his anger in an instant. 'Try. Please?' His voice, suddenly quiet and imploring, was backed by his eyes, searching Denser's, desperate and pleading. He let the Dark Mage go. 'This is my friend. You have to do something.'
Denser wanted to tell him that this wasn't his friend. That he was a Xeteskian fighting machine, a man with natural magical defence and strength augmented by the weight of all the Protectors whose souls resided in the catacombs of Xetesk. A being with no mind but to defend his master. A man quite without emotion or fear. A man whose ability in a fight was increased the more Protectors were around him. That he was no longer The Unknown Warrior.
Instead, he nodded. He couldn't do anything else. And he needed to find out for himself just why Nyer had sent him this Protector amongst the hundreds in the College. And why Styliann had approved the assignment. Something wasn't quite right, and Nyer needed to understand the strength of feeling that bound The Raven together.
'I will commune in the morning, the moment I have recovered my strength,' he said.
Hirad nodded his thanks. 'I mean it,' said the barbarian. 'I can't go on with him still a Protector. I know Balaia is in danger but it would be a betrayal of everything I have lived for.'
It was truly astonishing. But at the same time, it was terrifying.
Selyn had visited Parve once before, perhaps ten years ago. It was part pilgrimage, part orientation, part initiation for a mage spy. That time the City had been deserted and devastated, the dust of centuries blowing over scattered ruins, the wind howling across open spaces where great buildings once stood. Then, her march across the Torn Wastes had been simple. A stroll through cracked earth, harsh bramble and shivered stone to an empty ruined City.
Xetesk's mages and Protectors of three hundred years earlier had certainly been thorough. Within Parve itself, every building had been taken apart in a systematic destruction. Anything of any religious or magical significance had been buried. Roads were dug from their foundations, small dwellings obliterated and marketplaces turned inside out. All because Xetesk felt the desire to warn anyone who stood against the Colleges that their magic was no match.
And in an area roughly seven miles in every direction from the centre of Parve, nothing of any worth would ever grow again. The sheer concentration of mana and, myth had it, anger poured into Parve and its surrounds had poisoned the air and the earth, snuffing out vegetation and driving all animal life into the surrounding hills and woodland.
So, as the trees rotted and fell, the crops shrivelled and died and the scrubland roots delved deep to lie dormant, the Torn Wastes were born as eternal testimony to the awful power of offensive magic.
As Selyn approached the periphery of the Wastes, she all but ignored the emptiness, registering only that it would take a superhuman CloakedWalk to reach Parve across so large an open space. Because, with the afternoon fading towards a gloomy dusk, hundreds of lights and fires were burning in the City of the Wytch Lords. And surrounding the city were tented encampments bristling with life. The Torn Wastes were awash with Wesmen.
Her vantage point was the tree line which stretched across the eastern border of the Wastes. To her right, not two hundred yards away, a Wesmen guardpost stood at the head of the main east-west path through the scattered woodland. About fifteen men stood or sat around a fire, watching a stream of Wesmen marching from the Wastes, moving in the direction of Understone Pass.
Her decision was a simple one. Either take communion right where she was and be forced to spend the night recovering outside the City, or move on as darkness fell, making her successful passage to Parve more likely.
She knew she should report in, she was overdue, but her chances of capture were greater in the open than ensconced on the roof of an outhouse in the west of Parve. But should she be caught before she had a chance to communicate the incredible sight before her, Xetesk would be denied critical information.
She wasn't long in making up her mind. With a smile, and her eyes on the main prize of her journey, she waited until full nightfall before checking her camouflage and slipping out of the relative safety of the trees and into the evil of the Torn Wastes.
'How disappointing,' said Nyer after Denser had outlined the discovery of Sol's former identity. 'It is clear that the suppression of memory is not perfected.'
'Why did you send him, Master?'
'There was a need to know the answer to the question of latent knowledge affecting performance.'
Denser paused, mind racing, feeling Nyer's presence in his mind. He wanted to remain calm but found he could not.
'You used us for an experiment?' He fired the thought, knowing it would cause discomfort. 'Do you know what you have done?'
'Calm yourself, Denser,' warned Nyer. 'There has been no damage. We will merely recall the Protector.'
'It is too late for that. The Raven are demanding you release Sol from thrall.'
'Really?' Nyer's tone suggested amusement. 'They are an interesting group. And what is the penalty for failing to accede to their request?'
'They have threatened to walk away from the search.'
'And will they carry out this threat?'
'I have no doubt that they will,' said Denser. 'I could only be sure of retaining the Dordovan mage, Erienne.'
'You do know that the release of a Protector is still only a theoretical possibility?'
'Yes.' Denser sent a feeling of irritation at the question. 'But the attempt needs to be made if we are to remain on target for the recovery of Dawnthief.'
'Bring your Protector and bring your friends. But be careful. There is treachery in the College from those who would have Dawnthief for themselves. I will do what I can to release Sol. Trust no one.'
Ilkar looked at Denser, lying still on the grass as dawn broke across the sky behind him. He'd seen the occasional movement of his face as his communion progressed, but it gave no indication of the probable outcome.
Hirad came to his shoulder. 'Ready?' he said. Ilkar nodded. The Unknown stood near by, arms folded, impassive behind his mask. 'Will they see sense?'
Ilkar snorted. 'Sense is not a word often employed when talking about the Xetesk Masters. We just have to hope.'
Denser's eyes snapped open. He took a shuddering breath, dragged himself to his feet and faced Ilkar and Hirad.
'Well?' demanded Hirad.
Denser closed his eyes and sighed, a half-smile touching his lips. He spread his arms wide.
'We'd better get saddled up,' he said, swaying.
'Where are we going?' asked Ilkar.
'Xetesk.'
Chapter 23.
It was, Ilkar reflected as The Raven rode towards the City of the Dark College, the only viable route to a solution. Yet somehow he'd convinced himself that the Masters would be able to issue instructions to Denser remotely.
Understandably, Denser looked calm and happy. There was something undeniably comforting about returning to your College. It was like going back to the welcoming arms of your family. But watching the Dark Mage chatting easily to Erienne as they rode ahead of him, he couldn't help but feel there was more to his high spirits than his imminent return home.
Xetesk wasn't far. None of the Colleges was far from each other. When they had set off, they had a little over two days' ride ahead of them. Now they were no more than half a day from the closed City, and so much was still to be straightened out.
At least the Dordovan chase had been called off. Denser, following another communion, had confirmed that a four-College meeting had been called at Triverne Lake. The secret of Dawnthief would soon be out.
But there was going to be trouble at the gates of Xetesk. Plenty of it.
Will had refused point-blank to enter the City and wouldn't even ride near Denser and the Familiar. He was still shaking slightly; his nerves - his lifeline - had not recovered and yet the nightmares with which he was plagued worried him less than the grey which flecked his hair.
And Hirad. Hirad didn't want the two catalysts entering the City but he hadn't informed Denser of this. His view was that they might need some bargaining power, and Ilkar was inclined to agree. As for Denser himself, he was curiously tight-lipped. Brooding on something he'd heard in communion.
Ilkar, for his part, was just plain scared. He'd never visited Xetesk - few Julatsans had - but he knew he'd have to go in. And so would Erienne. What Jandyr and Thraun - now back in human form but still tired - thought, he couldn't guess. Confusion, probably. And wishing they hadn't bumped into The Raven, certainly. Only Erienne had a smile on her face, and for some reason he couldn't fathom, that worried him. Much of the time they rode in silence, keeping to the main trails now they were free of pursuit, but still wary.
Ahead of Ilkar, Hirad, who had done little but stare at The Unknown and glare at Denser, was finally talking to the latter. Ilkar urged his horse forwards, anxious to hear what was being said.
'. . . I haven't given up on you, Denser. I just want to know where you stand.'
'I'm not sure I follow.'
'I mean do you align with The Raven or with your masters?'
Denser thought for a moment. 'If you'd asked me that a week ago I'd have been firmly with Xetesk, the way I was when I met you. But now there's no definite answer - wait, before you say anything, let me explain.
'What I believe is that Balaia faces disaster if we don't recover Dawnthief and use it to destroy the Wytch Lords. In this, I agree with my master that The Raven was, and still is, the most likely route to success.
'But as regards Sol, they have misled me, betrayed your trust and beliefs and so damaged our chances severely. I cannot forget that, because it was a conscious decision to send him and I'm not sure I buy the story that we were the subject of an experiment.'
'Meaning?' Hirad frowned.
'Meaning someone there has a vested interest in my - our - failure.'
'But-' Hirad was at a loss. 'But if we fail-'
'Not everyone in Xetesk accepts the threat from the Wytch Lords needs to be met with the casting of the spell, but everyone wants Dawnthief to be found. There is a power struggle going on in the Mount, and ownership of Dawnthief will end it. I'm sure Ilkar would be happy to tell you that in Xetesk, Mount politics cloud every decision.'
'All right.' Hirad tried to sort things out in his mind. He rubbed his nose with thumb and forefinger. 'So who sent you out in the first place?'
'My master, Nyer.'
'Well, that's something I suppose, isn't it?'
'Yes,' agreed Denser. 'And it is he I talk to in communion and who has warned me of potential danger inside the City.'
'So what's the problem? Won't he protect you?'
'Possibly. But it was he who sent Sol to us. Look, I think we'd better all stop and talk before we go any further.'
Hirad nodded. They rode off the trail a short distance and Will set up the stove.
'Xetesk is a very different City to Dordover,' said Denser, once a cup of coffee was in his hands.
'I bloody hope so,' muttered Thraun.
Denser ignored him. 'Not only does my presence not guarantee our safety, in certain circles it will invite trouble. Dawnthief and the Wytch Lords have caused a split of opinion as wide as Understone Pass. We must have a strong bargaining position and this is what I suggest.
'I have to go to the Mount with Sol, and to give us the best chance of fair treatment, Ilkar and Erienne should be with me. As a three-College party and with representatives already in Xetesk, we should be all right. You two?'
'I wouldn't want to be anywhere else,' said Erienne, smiling at him. He smiled back.
'Agreed.' Ilkar was less than enamoured to hear the confirmation of his fear.
'And as for the rest of you, the good news is that I think you should stay well away from Xetesk,' said Denser.
'But the bad news is you want us to guard the catalysts while we're at it,' said Hirad. Denser nodded. 'Good. I wondered whether you'd see sense.'
'So did I,' muttered Ilkar.
'Well, we all harbour misconceptions, don't we, Ilkar?' said Denser shortly.
'If that's what you want to call them,' replied Ilkar with equal cool.
'You know, I thought we were really coming to a meaningful understanding.' Denser sighed.
'On the occasions we have had to work together, the situation has been successfully resolved.' Ilkar chose his words with care.
Denser shook his head and pursed his lips. 'What hurts me is that we have really suffered together. Do all those hours with the Black Wings mean nothing? Or our fight to keep Hirad alive? What else do I have to do to prove that I am different from your image of me?'
'Bring The Unknown out alive. Really alive. Then I'll believe. Until then, I can't forget where you were schooled and what that has meant for countless hundreds of years.'
'Julatsa!' Denser threw up his arms, got up and moved away, spilling what was left of his coffee. 'You look forward with both feet planted firmly in the past. You know something? Around this stove it's you who everyone sees has the closed mind and the chilled heart. I make no secret, Ilkar, that I respect and like you despite your College ancestry. I think I deserve the same treatment from you. Shall we ask what the others think? Shall we?'