The situation was clear to him. While the defence of the east was his charge, the real battle was about to fought in the west by The Raven and, it seemed, by Styliann. Darrick looked about him. He'd assembled the most capable staff he could think of, any one of whom could marshal the defence forces equally as well as himself.
To the south, while Gresse and Blackthorne's loss of the latter's town was a serious blow, their harrying tactics should delay the Wesmen advance on one flank, and to the north, he had to believe that the Colleges would hold Triverne Inlet. There lay the greatest concentration of magic, and there the Shamen could be effectively countered for now.
In his heart, Darrick knew he couldn't stand at the head of Understone Pass and wait for the result in the Torn Wastes. He wanted his five hundred horse, his fifty mages and his freedom to ride.
He wanted a fight, and by the Gods he was going to have one.
Ilkar walked away, back towards the Temple. He was shaking. Styliann's voice came to him through a haze.
'I really am very sorry.'
Ilkar shrugged and turned. 'When did this all happen? What happened at Triverne Inlet?' He couldn't understand how the situation could possibly be so bad.
'Yesterday. I received communion earlier this evening. They wiped us out. We had thought to hold them there for days but their magic was too strong,' said Styliann. 'They've got something we never saw three hundred years ago. White fire that brings down walls and something altogether darker that can eat the flesh.'
The Raven listened in silence, The Unknown standing with the Protectors, his eyes unfocused. The mage force and warriors at Triverne Inlet had been massacred, overwhelmed by magic-wielding Shamen. The Wesmen were less than three days from Julatsa and there had to be doubts over the Colleges' ability to keep them at bay. Blackthorne and Gresse were losing the battle to keep the Wesmen from flanking the Understone Pass defence, and Darrick had ridden into the west and disappeared. The Gods alone knew what he meant to do. Suddenly, their planned approach to Parve had turned into a headlong rush and they could already be out of time.
'And what are your plans, my Lord?' asked Denser, still stunned that the Lord of the Mount should be in the west.
'You know why I am here,' said Styliann. 'They took Selyn and I will take their lives. You will come with me and so will Dawnthief. The Raven can return to Understone Pass. Their skills are better used in its defence.'
The atmosphere changed in an instant. Hirad shifted to a ready stance, sword still sheathed for the moment. The Unknown moved to stand beside him, as did Thraun. Ilkar and Erienne flanked Denser as he stood in front of the mounted Styliann. Will remained with the fallen Jandyr. There was a ripple through the Protectors.
'I'm not sure I understand,' said Denser, though an awful realisation was flooding his heart.
Styliann raised his eyebrows. 'Denser, the balance must be redressed and we must have dominion. Dawnthief must belong to Xetesk alone. Now, bring the catalysts to me or I will take them from the corpses of your friends.' He signalled, and the Protectors unsheathed their weapons, the sound slicing through the night air.
'You can't let him do this!' hissed Ilkar.
'He has no choice,' said Styliann. 'He always knew this would be the result.'
Denser gaped at Styliann, his head shaking slightly. 'And you . . . ?' He gestured behind him at the Temple.
Styliann frowned. 'Yes. And you did what even my Protectors could not. I'm impressed,' he said. 'But now The Raven's work is done.'
'How did you get here before us?' asked Hirad.
'I was never very far behind you, Hirad. You chose to rest on your way here; I did not.' He shrugged. 'A pity I didn't succeed. It would have made all of this so much easier.'
'Yes,' said The Unknown. 'Because we hold the cards, don't we?'
Ilkar fell back from Denser behind The Raven. His incantation was short. 'Shield up,' he murmured. The Raven's swords were drawn.
Styliann laughed. 'Do not think you can stand in my way,' he said, dismissive. 'Denser, do the right thing or I'll be forced to take your life too.'
'You wouldn't do that.' Denser moved back, Erienne with him, feeling Ilkar's shield cover him.
'Any reason why not?'
The Protectors came to ready. The Unknown tensed.
'Because I represent the only realistic chance of casting Dawnthief with any hope of destroying the Wytch Lords while leaving Balaia still habitable.' But Denser's words held little conviction.
'If you really are blind enough to think you are the only Dawnthief mage in Xetesk, I pity you,' said Styliann. 'I am offering you glory. You and I will destroy the Wytch Lords and then you will stand by me on the Mount and oversee our rule of Balaia. There are two Towers in need of new Masters. Come.' He beckoned Denser forward and the Dark Mage moved an involuntary half-pace before Erienne's arm, still locked through his, restrained him.
Denser looked about him at The Raven. At Erienne, who carried his child and to whom he would suffer no harm. At Hirad, who had threatened his life twice but had saved it more often and would undoubtedly do so again, given the chance. At Ilkar, who knew the way forward and tolerated him because of it. The Unknown, who was released but still in thrall to his soul memories. And Will, Thraun and Jandyr, who believed because The Raven believed.
But opposite him, Styliann. The Lord of the Mount of Xetesk. A man who could see him to death or glory with equal ease.
Denser came to Hirad's shoulder, his voice a whisper. 'Do you trust me?' he asked.
Hirad regarded him carefully, Denser watching the thoughts chasing themselves across his eyes. 'You're Raven,' he answered, shrugging. 'You risked yourself to release The Unknown. That is the act of one of us.'
'Give me the chain.' Hirad framed a refusal but Denser stayed him. 'He can take them anyway. We can't stop him.'
'We can't just give in.' Hirad's grip tightened on his sword.
Denser's voice was barely audible. 'No one is giving in. Trust me.'
Hirad switched his attention to Styliann, who studied The Raven with obvious fascination. Behind him, ninety Protectors stood ready to wipe them out. He clacked his tongue and lifted the chain carrying the Understone Pass Commander's Badge and the Dordovan Ring of Authority from his neck. He heard Ilkar's sharply indrawn breath, though the shield did not waver.
'Give Denser the stone, Will,' said Hirad. 'We have nothing to gain by dying.'
Will paused in his tending of Jandyr and passed the Death's Eye Stone to Denser. The Xeteskian smiled but, before walking to Styliann, stopped by Ilkar, his back to his Lord.
'Whatever you do, keep that shield up.' He moved to stand in front of Styliann, hefting the catalysts.
'And to think I have the fate of Balaia in my hands,' he said.
'Dangerous,' said Styliann. He reached out. 'Let's not waste any more time. It is a particularly precious commodity.'
'Indeed it is,' agreed Denser, a smile on his lips. 'And I will now decide Balaia's fate.'
The mana shape was formed and the command spoken before Styliann had a chance to react. Denser, ShadowWings deployed, shot up and backwards, finishing behind the Temple, high in the lee of the cliffs. Every face turned to look at him, silhouetted against the star-speckled night sky. No one breathed and Hirad's heart thumped in his chest, sweat freezing on his body. Denser shouted down from his vantage point, well out of Styliann's spell range, ShadowWings beating lazy time.
'I can't let you return to the old ways, Styliann. You're out of date. Dawnthief goes with The Raven. That is the contract and we will honour it or die in the attempt.'
'You are a Xeteskian mage and you are my servant,' said Styliann, his voice cold and terrible. 'You will obey me.'
'No,' said Denser. 'I am Raven.'
Hirad's smile was as wide as Understone Pass. He straightened from his ready stance.
'Oh dear, Styliann,' he said. 'Beaten again. Why not admit it and step aside?'
But Styliann wasn't listening. His eyes ablaze, his mind shaped mana with the speed and efficiency only a Master could command. A trio of FlameOrbs struck Ilkar's shield in successive heartbeats, blue and red light lashing over the invisible barrier. Ilkar gasped under the force of the attack, but though he trembled, the shield did not. Styliann looked on. None of The Raven had so much as flinched.
'Ilkar has never lost a shield to magical attack,' said Hirad. 'And I can assure you that he doesn't intend starting now. It's over, Styliann.'
'I hardly think so,' grated the Lord of the Mount. He turned to his Protectors. 'Kill them. Kill them now.' But the Protectors did not move. 'Kill them!' he screamed, face red in the moonlight, fury blazing in his eyes. Hirad prepared to die.
'Relax, Hirad,' said The Unknown, and the depth of his smile at last touched his eyes. 'I suggest you save your breath, Styliann.'
'I beg your pardon?' The words dragged from Styliann's mouth.
'It's something you can never conceive, let alone understand. They will not attack us while I am here and we aren't threatening your life. And in the same way, I will not let The Raven attack them. But I warn that should I die at your hand, your Protectors will turn on you.'
There was a shifting behind Styliann. He looked around. The Protectors were all staring at him, their masks reflecting the star-light.
'You can choose not to believe me, my Lord.' The Unknown walked forwards, out of the spell shield. 'But you've already lost the spell. Why lose your life too?'
Styliann's face darkened still further. He swung round in his saddle again, studying the Protectors' postures, unable to conceive the potential scale of their defiance. Eventually, he turned back to The Unknown.
'But you have been released. You are no longer one of them.'
'So I thought too. But the bonds forged in the meld of souls are unbreakable. My soul may be my own but it will reach out to the Protectors for ever. I accept that, they understand it. Best you do too.'
A third look behind him and the Lord of the Mount nodded. He had half turned his horse when The Unknown stopped him.
'You can help us save Balaia and gain your revenge,' he suggested. 'If you were to attack Parve from the south or south-east in response to our signal, it might ease our route to the pyramid. At least then you might have a College to return to.'
Styliann's face was blank. 'You might tell Denser that while I am Lord of the Mount, he is most unwelcome in Xetesk. As for The Raven, you will be paid on your return through Understone Pass. Be very certain never to cross me again.'
'I will sign you through the Protectors,' said The Unknown. 'If you are near, they will hear me.'
Styliann said nothing, kicking his horse to a canter and making his way through the ranks of Protectors. They remained still for some moments, meeting souls with The Unknown, before following their Given from the Temple clearing.
For several minutes, The Raven held formation while Denser circled overhead, sight attuned to the mana spectrum, probing for a clue that Styliann was about to launch a new attack. When he landed and dismissed the ShadowWings, they relaxed.
'Shield down,' said Ilkar.
Hirad placed a hand on Denser's shoulder, nodding his gratitude as the Dark Mage looked at him.
'At last, I think I can say I understand,' said Denser.
'Will Styliann help us?' asked Hirad.
The Unknown raised his eyebrows. 'Difficult to say,' he said. 'If he stops to think hard enough, perhaps.'
'Thraun, would you check the path and collect the horses?' asked Hirad. Thraun inclined his head and jogged away out of sight.
Belatedly, the focus of attention fell on Jandyr. The elf was still alive and Erienne had joined Will in ministering to him. But he hadn't moved from where he had fallen. His leather armour had been slit by the falling axe of a statue and the wound beneath it was deep and severe. His clothing and the dirt around him were filmed with blood, although Erienne seemed to have stemmed the flow.
'How bad?' asked Will.
'He's been lucky,' said Erienne. 'The blade hasn't sheared any ribs, so his heart and lungs are undamaged, but I'm very worried about the state of his shoulder and lower back.'
'Can we move him?' asked The Unknown.
'Not until morning, anyway, to give me a chance to repair some of the damage. Put it this way, he won't be using his bow for a while. There's a great deal of tendon and muscle damage in that shoulder.'
'We haven't got that sort of time,' said Ilkar. 'You heard what Styliann said. The Wesmen will be at Julatsa in three days.'
'Then they must hold them,' said Erienne. 'If we ride now, he will die. Ilkar, I'm only asking we wait until dawn. Five hours.'
'Dawn,' said Ilkar. 'It will give us a chance to verify what Styliann has said.'
Hirad considered the situation. He scanned the tree line, then turned full circle, taking in the lake, mountains and Temple. The painted faces of the statues still crowded the doors. He shuddered.
'So long as you can all stand to be watched by that lot, we might as well stay right here until sun-up. Will, the stove, please. Denser, I need you and Thraun to discuss the route to Parve. With the Wesmen on the march we'll have to stay clear of the roads to Understone. Meanwhile, Ilkar, Unknown, I want to talk to you.'
A brief flurry of activity disrupted the peace of the impromptu campsite. Denser and Will hurried out of the clearing after Thraun, Erienne began preparation of a healing spell and the three surviving original Raven members gathered on the steps of the Temple. Hirad spared the statues one more glance before speaking.
'There's things I don't understand,' he said.
'No change there,' said Ilkar.
Hirad punched him on the shoulder. 'You're funny, Ilkar. But not very funny.' He laughed. 'Explain to me what a Cold Room is and why I've never heard of one before.'
'Well, it's not something the Colleges publicise, for obvious reasons.' Ilkar shot a glance heavenwards. 'How do I explain? Right, look, mana flows everywhere and through everything. It doesn't stop for skin, bones, walls, wood, ocean, not even dimensions, as we discovered. No one knows its rhythm or the pattern to its flow, only how to disrupt it to form shapes for spells. But one thing that can be done is to divert the flow, and particular structures will do that.' He jerked a thumb behind him. 'Mana will take the path of least resistance. This temple has been very carefully constructed, and I mean in extraordinary architectural and material detail. When it was sealed, the mana simply flowed around it and not through it.' He shrugged. 'That's it.'
'It was a well-laid trap for the unwary thief,' agreed The Unknown.
'Or mage,' muttered Ilkar. 'We were close to being snuffed out in there.'
'So those bodies we found in there were Protectors?' asked Hirad.
'Yes,' said The Unknown. 'I knew straight away but it didn't seem possible at the time. They were Protectors, some of Styliann's no doubt.'
'But they had no masks,' said Ilkar.
'No doubt, when the threat is removed, the statues move back and the doors unseal. Protectors always take the masks of their fallen brothers. Styliann wanted to get the Death's Eye Stone for himself and was cautious enough to stay outside while he sent his Protectors in. Getting it would have given him real power over us, after all.'
'So he was waiting for us to succeed,' said Hirad.
'Hoping, certainly,' said The Unknown. 'I'm sure us taking the stone and then him taking the entire spell from us was his fallback plan the whole time.'
Hirad shook his head. 'When I saw them all waiting, I don't mind telling you I expected to be dead and cooling soon after. What happened?'
'He did.' Ilkar indicated Denser, who was walking back into the clearing with Will, Thraun and the horses.
'Would you care to elaborate?' asked Hirad.
'Yes, I'd be glad to. We have just witnessed the biggest single step forward in Xeteskian thinking, probably ever. Denser turned down certain power and glory in his College for the greater good of Balaia. I can still scarcely believe it.'
'But that doesn't explain the Protectors,' said Hirad. He looked out into the camp. Will was setting up the stove near by, intent on ignoring them but no doubt hearing everything they said. Erienne was talking to Jandyr and stroking his hair. The elven bowman, although still lying on his front, was conscious. Denser and Thraun were in deep conversation, poring over a map, Thraun making animated sweeping gestures. Denser, pipe smoking gently, was smiling.
Hirad felt warm inside. The Raven was complete again and working smoothly. He hadn't felt this way since the day Ras died.