The Wesmen had lost their appetite for the fight. Thraun ran at small groups who scattered, keeping them away from the beach. Hirad and The Unknown moved backwards across the sand. More lightning from the fingers of Denser, more Wesmen fell, faces blackened, eyes gone.
'Get in and we'll push out,' ordered Hirad. Arrows flew the gap across the beach, clattering off Ilkar's HardShield. Hirad grinned. The Raven slick as ever, an unshakeable unit.
When he hit the water, he turned as did The Unknown, running and jumping through the shallows to push the stern of the boat on which the three mages and Will sat, the cold water shocking his muscles to new life.
'Tell me if they start following us,' said Hirad. More arrows bounced from the shield. The boat moved through the gentle tide and waves, the wind bringing nothing more than choppiness to the Inlet this near the shore. Behind him, he heard splashing and in the boat Will straightened. Hirad turned. Three Wesmen ran at them, circling axes above their heads and roaring battle cries.
To his left, The Unknown tapped his blade into the water, the normal ring of steel on stone reduced to a splash and muffled grate on the shingle below. They waited but the Wesmen didn't make it. From their right, the water exploded upwards and Thraun surged from the surf he'd created to bear one down into the water, fangs deep in his thigh. A shout rang out from the shore and the others turned and ran, their kinsman left to float in as the tide dictated, his blood slicking the moonlit water.
Hirad yelled in triumph, exulting at the fires that scored the dark above the burning camp. The Unknown clapped him on the shoulder.
'Come on, let's get this boat moving.' The old friends scrambled the few yards to the small craft and climbed aboard, Thraun paddling strongly beside them. In moments, the sail was unfurled, the wind snapped the dark canvas taut and The Raven headed back to the East. Home.
Chapter 13.
Sha-Kaan and a dozen of his lieutenants flew from the Broodlands, already aware that they were almost certainly too late to save Jatha and the party of Vestare who were supposed to meet The Raven.
In the skies above Teras, the gateway hung in the sky, myopic gaze expanding inexorably. Around its surface, the guard flew their defensive holding pattern, at ease in the clear sky that day and comfortable that their vision would give ample warning time to assemble a defence to quell any attack.
But how long would the clouds stay away? How long before Sha-Kaan was forced to deploy more and more of his tiring Brood to fly patrol in the banks of thick, rain-bearing cloud that periodically swept down from the mountains of Beshara, drawing moisture to deposit on his lands? The rain fed the Flamegrass but the cloud obscured their enemies. Right now, clear skies were preferable. The River Tere, running through the heart of the Broodlands, was full and powerful and the Vestare could channel it to the beds of cultivated Flamegrass. It was in the open plains that their harvest would suffer, for the Flamegrass was greedy for moisture and wilted quickly without it.
But away towards the devastated lands of Keol, where Septern's gateway lay hidden by Vestare cunning and design, new columns of smoke smudged the sky, new fires coloured the earth. Sha-Kaan took his dragons high into the bright sky, calling barks of welcome and warning to the guard as they passed. As they flew hard over the hills of Dormar and the wastes at the borders of Beshara, the dark shapes in the sky revealed themselves to be of the Brood Veret.
The Great Kaan was surprised and pulsed a query to his cohorts. Slender and quick, the dragons of the Veret were semi-aquatic, normally inhabiting the caves and seas to the north of Teras, never straying far from their Broodlands deep in the Shedara Ocean. They were characterised by blue and green colouring, thin muzzles which jetted slim concentrations of fire, short necks, four even, webbed feet and long, slightly flattened tails that powered them through the water.
They possessed poisonous spikes of bone that ran along skull and neck but their wings, small and swept back for speed through air and water, were their weakness. Gone was the reservoir of secreted oil that lubricated landborne dragons and resisted fire, replaced instead by a veined water lubrication lattice. The lightweight system gave their wings greater manoeuvrability but, with armour non-existent, it was vulnerable to being burned off by the scorching temperatures of dragon fire. But they had to be caught first.
The Kaan closed. Sha-Kaan could feel Jatha's fear, sensing his pounding heart and his laboured breath as he and the Vestare ran to escape the Veret. There were eight of the enemy Brood, all intent on their quarry. What taxed Sha-Kaan as he commenced his first attack dive was why the Veret had strayed so far inland and whether their interception of his Vestare was by coincidence or design.
The Veret didn't sense the threat of the Kaan at first, had no idea that above them, Sha-Kaan's fire was ready, his jaws open and dripping fuel. He glided hard down, slipstreaming a young marine-blue Veret only half his own length who was chasing down a lone Vestare.
The man was neither quick nor agile enough, his dodging among stunted, blackened trees not adept enough to confuse the Veret's approach. Sha-Kaan could see him, darting left and right, back and forth, stopping and rolling, sprinting and standing, just as he had been taught. The theory was there - the momentum of dragons in the sky robbed them of the manoeuvrability to accommodate sudden changes in pace and direction but the practice against the more agile Veret was lacking.
And so it was that as Sha-Kaan lined himself up behind the young male Veret, the enemy dragon, having tracked his quarry with deft wing alignments and slight movements of head and neck, opened his mouth and exhaled two tight jets of fire that tore through the Vestare's body. The victim was hurled from his feet into the bole of a tree, his flaming corpse flopping to the ground, chest holed massively, head aflame. Around him, wood blazed in the sudden inferno and the wave of flame rolled away into the forest, igniting branch and leaf and scattering birds.
Sha-Kaan rolled slightly right and unleashed the power of his fire, ripping into the Veret's fully deployed wing as he braked to bank away from his dive. The young dragon's head jerked around in shock to snap a glance at Sha-Kaan before the fires destroyed his wing membrane and he barrel-rolled into the blackened forest, dying body bouncing from the ground before driving uncontrolled into a stand of shattered trunks to lie still, a cloud of earth and dead leaves erupting into the air.
Sha-Kaan pulled up sharply, searching the ground for Jatha whose presence he could still feel, and the sky for a view on the battle. Kaan chased down three Veret, the agile blue-green animals spinning and turning as they sought to flee their larger, more powerful assailants. Below and to his left, a Veret was locked in the air with a Kaan. Spikes had punctured the softer underscales of the Kaan's neck but she held on, jaws clamped behind the Veret's head. Blood was pouring from the wound and Sha-Kaan pulsed the order to release. The returning pulse saddened him. The poison was overwhelming the dragon's system. She would die but she wouldn't release the Veret to live. He watched as the two spiralled to their deaths before homing in on Jatha.
The frightened Vestare was still running but Sha-Kaan brought him to a grateful halt and landed just in front of him. Jatha and his remaining party were still a full day's journey from Septern's gateway. They should already have arrived and be safe, awaiting their Balaian visitors.
'Thank the Skies you have come, Great Kaan,' gasped Jatha. 'We-'
'Calm yourself,' pulsed Sha-Kaan, allowing his mind to cool the heat in the Vestare mind. 'Sit down and slow your heart; its beating is hurting my ears.' Jatha slumped to the ground, heaving great lungfuls of air, the beginnings of a smile playing over his lips. In the sky above, the remaining Kaan chased the Veret away and patrolled in a holding pattern that gave Sha complete confidence.
'Now,' said the Great Kaan. 'Tell me why you are so far from the gateway.'
Jatha nodded, Sha-Kaan feeling his pulse cease its dangerous racing.
'There is great activity in Keol,' said Jatha. 'My party have been slowed by the need to conceal ourselves from bands of Naik and Veret warriors. They seem to be linked in some way; it is the only reason I can think of for the appearance of Veret in the sky.
'We first saw them yesterday, flying to the south, and we thought we could evade them. But we were ambushed by Veret warriors. They are dead but our position was opened. Thus, we could be attacked as you saw.'
Sha-Kaan let his head drop. Naik and Veret in alliance. The Kaan could be in more trouble than he thought. A concerted attack by three or more Broods might prove too much for them.
'How sure are you that there is an alliance?' he asked.
'They were not fighting when they met,' said Jatha. 'We watched them for a full day. Great Kaan, these are our lands, though we do not defend them. We cannot allow enemy occupation. It would bring them too close to Teras.'
'There are greater threats than that posed by other Broods taking dead lands like Keol from us. It is critical that the humans from Balaia reach the Broodlands when they arrive here. I cannot release dragons to shadow you. If what you say proves true, I cannot afford to draw attention to you by flying in your defence, do you understand? '
Jatha inclined his head. 'There is one other way.' Sha-Kaan retracted his head sharply, his neck describing an 's'. He hissed.
'No human shall ever ride the Kaan. We are the masters here.' Sha-Kaan breathed out long. 'It is your task to see them safe to Teras. Have you thought of the battle there would be if we were seen with humans on our necks? No carrying Kaan would stand a chance of survival; our place would be gone.' He moved his head groundwards once more. 'Banish that thought, Jatha. Though I understand the desperation in which it was formed, it must never be uttered again. The Kaan shall never bow their necks to humans. We would die first.'
'I am sorry, Great Kaan. And I thank you for your understanding.'
'Consider that were you not so important to me, my reaction might have been different.' Sha-Kaan's admonishment was tinted with humour. 'You are a faithful attendant and companion, Jatha. Now, we will sweep the way ahead of you and seek out your enemies on the ground and in the sky. Do not move until night falls and we have gone. I expect your signal when you reach the gateway.'
Jatha stood and spread his arms wide in deference, dropping back to one knee before he spoke again.
'It shall be done, Great Kaan.'
'Skies keep you.' Sha-Kaan extended his wings and rose lazily into the sky, calling to his Brood to do his bidding.
Senedai's patience broke on the fourth day. There was no warning, no new ultimatum. With the coming of a blustery dawn, heavy with cloud and the cloying damp that signalled the approach of rain, Barras was awakened by a general alarm that ran through the Council Rooms.
Instantly alert, he belted on his yellow robe of the day before, slid on boots without socks and rushed to the courtyard, dimly aware that his grey hair was wild in the wind, blowing into his eyes. He smoothed it back as Kard joined him.
'Senedai?' asked Barras. The old General nodded.
'And he's brought prisoners.'
'Damn it.' Barras increased his pace. 'I thought we could bluff him longer.'
'You've already saved fifteen hundred innocent lives. He was bound to lose patience eventually.'
Behind them, the sound of running feet grew in volume. Soldiers clattered by, heading for their guard posts on the North Gate and walls. Kerela and Seldane joined Barras.
'So now it starts.' Kerela was grim. Barras nodded.
'If only I could have bought more time.'
Kerela squeezed Barras' shoulder.
'You bought us more time than we could possibly have dreamed of. Senedai's fear of magic is more deeply ingrained than all but you imagined. You saw that and you made it pay. Be satisfied.'
'More likely he was just in no hurry then, but now he is. It worries me that something has happened elsewhere that demands his taking of the College urgently. Perhaps one of the others has already fallen.' They began ascending the stairs to the gate-house and ramparts.
'He is under pressure, certainly,' said Kard. 'But don't assume it's because of further victory. Lack of success by other armies has probably forced him to act.'
The desire for conversation and the search for reason ceased as they looked down on the cobbled square before the gates. There stood Senedai, arms crossed over his chest, feet placed deliberately apart, dark cloak billowing in the breeze that accompanied the early morning chill. His hair, heavy with braids, barely stirred.
Behind him, better than one hundred Wesmen circled a group of fifty Julatsan children and older folk. All looked confused, all fearful, knowing only that they were a bargaining counter of some sort. None could know the fate that awaited them, their faces holding no panic or terror.
'I said it would take six days,' said Barras. Senedai shrugged.
'And in four, you have done nothing but drilled your soldiers in full view of my observers. I will not debate this further.' He raised an arm.
'Wait!' said Barras. 'You can't expect to see the results of our efforts. There is no physical dismantling of magic. We will be ready soon.'
'You have lied to me, mage,' said Senedai. 'Such is the thinking among my captains. And for that, I will have your head as our bargain allows.'
'It took him long enough to work it out,' muttered Kard.
'Now, how long you stay is up to you. But as the mound of corpses rises and its stench drifts across your faces, so will the hatred among those of your people left alive rise against you.'
A murmur and movement stirred among the prisoners and Barras could all but feel their hearts beginning to race as the awful realisation of possible death brought sweat to bead on the back of necks, cold as the grip of night. Barked shouts from the Wesmen guards restored order, but the fear etched deeper into faces and the blank incomprehension of children tore at Barras.
'I had thought you to be a man of honour,' said the elder elven mage. 'Not a murderer of the weak and helpless. You are a soldier, by the Gods. Act like one.'
Senedai wiped a hand across his mouth, apparently attempting to conceal a smile.
'You are a skilled speaker, mage, but your words no longer move me. It is not I who shall murder them. None of my prisoners will die under a Wesman hand or blade. I am merely releasing them into your hands. If you drop your devil's curtain, they will live.' He pointed at the group on the ramparts. 'You are the murderers. Watch fifty lives be lost, their deaths on your conscience.' He raised his hand again, this time sweeping it down before Barras opened his mouth to speak. The guards pushed through the crowd, one pair to each prisoner. They were marched struggling in a four-deep line towards the DemonShroud directly under the North Gate, stopping less than three feet from the modulating grey spell. That close, its aura must have been terrible.
Senedai walked behind the first row of prisoners almost as if he was inspecting soldiers under his command. He stopped at the mid-point.
'Senedai, no,' urged Barras.
'Take down your defence.' He paused, looked up into Barras' eyes. 'Take down your defence.' Barras said nothing.
'Don't give in.' The voice came from Barras' left. There stood an old mage in the front row, tall and proud, a balding pate atop fierce eyes and a sharp nose. Senedai walked quickly behind him, grabbing his neck in one gloved hand.
'You see anxious to die, old man,' he rasped. 'Perhaps you would like to be the first.'
'I am proud to die protecting the integrity of my College,' spat the mage, meeting Senedai eyeball to eyeball. 'And most of those here will follow me gladly.' He shook his arms. 'Let go of me, dammit. I can stand unaided.' At a signal from Senedai, the guards released him.
'I'm waiting,' said the Wesman Lord. The old mage turned and addressed the Julatsans.
'This day, I ask you to join me in giving your lives to save the College of Julatsa and all who stand safe behind her walls. Many of you, I know, have no affinity with magic but, as native Julatsans, you are blessed by it and its force for good every day. We cannot let that force die. For hundreds of years, Julatsan mages have given of themselves for their people. Witness how many were killed trying to defend the city. Now, in our time of direst need, it is time to give something back. All that would walk willingly with me into the Shroud, say aye.'
A ragged response gained in volume, ending with the shrill 'Aye' of a child. The mage looked again at Senedai.
'Your words writhe like maggots in a rotting corpse. You have ordered our deaths, you are killing prisoners. Julatsa has the right to protect herself and your blackmail will return to visit death upon you and your kinsmen. But we will not give you the satisfaction of seeing us beg for your mercy.'
'It will not always be so.' Barras could see the hatred in Senedai's face and knew that the old mage, whose name he could not recall, had scored a victory, however small.
'Release my people,' said the mage. Senedai had no choice. He shook his head, waved his arm wearily and the guards released the arms of the prisoners they held. None moved to run and the perplexed expressions on the faces of the guards told everything. Precious few had understood Senedai's exchange with the old mage and even fewer could see why their prisoners made no attempt to save themselves.
'We will line up, each person holding the hand of those either side.' The prisoners moved silently forward, the men and women upright and proud through their fear, the children uncomprehending, their voices stilled in the enormity of the atmosphere.
Barras could hardly bear to watch but knew that to flinch was to betray the act of extraordinary courage being played out in front of him. He wanted to shout for them to run, to fight, to struggle against their deaths. A part of him, though, saw that this solidarity would unsettle Senedai more than any futile fight. Now, at least, he knew the strength of will of the Julatsan people. Or thought he did.
The movement below Barras ceased. Fifty Julatsans stood a single pace from the DemonShroud, faces alive with terror at their imminent deaths and the evil pulsing from the Shroud's borders. The wind whistled around the walls of the College. Behind the line, Senedai and his guards stood uncertain, their objective about to be fulfilled but the initiative gone.
The old mage stood in the centre of the line, hands clasped with a child on his right and an elderly man to his left. He stared up at the ramparts.
'My mages Kerela and Barras, General Kard, it is with honour that we make this sacrifice. Do not let it be in vain.'
'It will not be,' said Barras, his voice shaking.
'What is your name?' asked Kerela from beside the stunned negotiator.
'Theopa, my Lord.'
'Theopa, your name will live forever in the minds of generations of Julatsan mages that follow you,' said Kerela. 'I am shamed and lessened not to have known you better.'
'It is enough that you know me now. And know all of us now.' He raised his voice. 'Come, let us walk to glory. The Gods will smile upon us, and the demons below will have mercy on our souls.' Theopa's expression betrayed the lie.
Beside him, the child started to weep. Theopa bent and whispered words that would remain between them. The child nodded, her face cracking into a smile.
'Close your eyes and walk with me,' said the mage, his voice loud and strong. He paced forward, the line with him. The fifty Julatsans dropped, their mouths open, screams of agony cut short as their souls were torn from their bodies.
Barras could feel the tears on his cheeks. A soldier walked by him, muttered something under his breath. Kard heard him.
'Consider yourself confined to your quarters,' he grated. 'Speak to no one on your way. I will deal with you myself.' The soldier paled and moved on.
'Don't be harsh on him,' said Barras.
'He accused you of murder.'
'He was right.'
Kard stepped in front of Barras, shielding him from the Wesmen below. 'Never, ever believe that. The murderer stands outside these walls. And he will be brought to justice.' Barras gestured Kard aside.
'Lord Senedai,' he called. The Wesman turned and looked up. 'May your dreams be plagued by the shades of hell every day of your short life.'
Senedai bowed. 'I will return at midday. More will die.'
Barras began preparing. From here, he could take Senedai, burn the flesh from his bones. Kerela stopped him, breaking his concentration.
'I understand your hate,' she said. 'But you'll be wasting your mana on the inside of the Shroud. Better we channel our energies to finding a way to free ourselves and our prisoners. Come, Barras. Rest and think.'