'Hold!' he called. 'Let Tual guide your hands.'
But down the train, the winged cursyrd were flooding the street. There was precious little movement from the remaining wagons. Auum had to buy more time but the karron were strong and determined. Not enough mages could be brought to bear to break the line without allowing the reavers to attack their rear. The warriors had no choice but to stand.
The right side of the elven line fractured. Karron trampled elves underfoot, crushing skulls and bodies with hammer limbs, splitting flesh with spikes. The Al-Arynaar responded and closed the line but seven karron were through, threatening the thinly guarded mage defence.
'Tai, we move.'
Auum slammed the heel of his palm into the chest of an advancing karron and turned to run at the loose enemy. He didn't take a single pace towards them. In the line beside them, an elf missed his strike. The spiked arm of a karron swung, splintering his skull. The dead elf was flung back and sideways, colliding with Duele. The TaiGethen half fended the body away but stumbled to his knees on slick
cobbles. The karron stepped through and struck its hammer limb into the elf s chest.
'No!' Auum saw Duele flung across the street and was already on the move to his side. Evunn swept the karron's legs from under it and delivered a blistering attack to the creature's body. Its squawk of triumph clotting in its throat, Evunn's short blade buried in its armpit.
Auum reached Duele just as the Al-Arynaar line collapsed. To the right, mages were attacked, ForceCones dispersing. Winged cursyrd stormed into the space, cutting them off from the wagon train. He had no time to care. He scooped his Tai into his arms. Blood ran from Duele's mouth but he was still breathing.
'Yniss protect you, my friend,' he whispered, his limbs shaking. He raised his head and voice. 'Break. Run for the college.'
And with the pounding of the karron vibrating cobbles underfoot and the shrieks of winged cursyrd loud in his ears, Auum led his people in a desperate run for sanctuary.
There was a single explosion to mark Darrick's death, a Xeteskian ward triggered way too late to stop the carnage. A handful of karron were caught in its blast and tongues of flame brought demons down from the sky but it didn't stop their advance.
Karron smashed the shattered wagons and allied bodies aside, driving up The Thread towards the one remaining ColdRoom casting. The sky darkened with strike-strain and reavers, their cluttering and taunting reverberating from the blank faces of the buildings. Al-Arynaar rushed to form a fighting line within the ColdRoom but the tide was going to sweep them away.
'We've got to get to cover,' roared The Unknown into the tumult. 'Denser, I need an option.'
Denser was ahead of him. He indicated a narrow alley ahead and right. 'The playhouse. It's our only chance for this many people.'
'What'll it do for us?'
'Buy us time. Here, we're all dead.'
He was right. The back of the train was lost completely. Demons were diving into the shell, karron battering into defenders on the ground. Hirad turned to the head of the column in time to see the Al-Arynaar line fold.
'Fuck.' He ran to Rebraal and grabbed his shoulders, his own limbs quivering with rage. 'I want ForceCone mages down that passage now. We're heading for the playhouse. Disengage your forward line. Do it now. Don't let those bastards get anyone else.'
Rebraal nodded and began barking commands. Hirad swung back to The Raven.
'Thraun, behind me with Denser. Ark, don't drop the big man. Look out for Pheone and the Xeteskians. Rebraal, it's now. Raven! Raven with me!'
Rebraal had been quick and his mages accurate. Three strode down the passageway, warriors at their backs. Hirad went after them, hearing The Raven in his wake. In The Thread, the bodies of man, elf and demon littered the ground. A Raven was amongst them. The four remaining wagons emptied and the last ColdRoom dispersed. The demons surged, pushing the routed Balaians before them. The tight entrance to the passage was quickly becoming a botdeneck.
'Dammit.' Hirad broke into a run and shouted ahead in elvish. 'Too slow. Drop the Cones and let's move.'
It became a headlong dash, mirroring that led by Auum to the gates of the college. Strike-strain fell about their heads, nipping, bidng and scratching. No sooner had he pulled one away from himself or Thraun beside him than three more cackled and attacked. Others threatened Erienne. Thraun ignored his own pain to keep her as safe as he could. Hirad could hear the sounds of karron in the buildings either side of the narrow alley, running through thin walls, trying to get in front.
'Left ahead!' shouted Denser.
Hirad relayed the message forwards. A few yards behind The Raven, karron beat a wall into the passage, spilling out after it. He risked a glance and saw elves driving through the sudden barricade, kicking, punching and butting. There wasn't time for artistry and the only saving grace for the runners was that the alley was too narrow for all but the smallest reavers.
The leading elves turned the corner flat out. Hirad and Thraun were falling back a little. Hirad could see light that indicated Seam-stone Square and the playhouse. It flickered like the light above them. The sky was filled with demons.
Hirad chewed his lip. In the square, the enemy would be waiting. They needed spell cover but the incessant picking of strike-strain and the force of numbers running through the alley wouldn't give mages much opportunity to cast.
'We need a safe corridor,' he said, panting a little. 'Mages, get the nearest door open. Swords and maces left and right. Pass the message back. Thraun, stay in the passage. You too, Unknown.'
'Forget it.'
They reached the square. The nearest playhouse door stood less than ten yards across the open street. Reavers crowded the entrance. Hirad heard prayers and the Al-Arynaar went to work. Unable to kill without using Auum's move, the elves chose containment for the moment and all used blade and fist to quickly force a small space. Hirad ran into the centre of it.
'Let's go, Raven!'
In front of Hirad, an Al-Arynaar backhanded his blade into the chest of a reaver. It skittered backwards, squealing. The elf moved left allowing Hirad in. He accepted, powering his mace through in an upward arc, connecting with his enemy's face and following through. The demon's head snapped back and it staggered into those behind it.
'Pressing!' yelled Hirad and then Rebraal and The Unknown were beside him.
The elf s mace pushed end-on into the gut of his enemy. The Unknown's carved left to right, clattering his aside in a flurry of claw and wing. Ark led more Al-Arynaar from the passageway, strengthening the break-out and driving further across the street. The demons, surprised at the ferocity and organisation of this attack sprung from the ashes of a rout, struggled to maintain any cohesion.
Strike-strain descended. Hard to ignore, their claws like sharp frost, they flittered over the heads of elves and men, trying to get into their faces where they could be most effective.
His mace in his right hand, Hirad ducked a claw to his face and whipped in a blow of his own, seeing the spikes rip into flesh and drive the demon back. Strike-strain locked onto the back of his head, scuttling forwards. He grabbed at one with his free hand and jerked it clear and flung it away, feeling blood begin to trickle from his scalp.
His limbs felt leaden. He roared to clear his mind and wiped a hand across his sweating face. He had to keep going, had to drive them all. He knew his arms were fatigued and his back sent pain through his body with every pace, every blow. They had no choice but to push on. Blocking aside another blow, he took a pace into the shadow of the playhouse. Their goal was only three yards away. He heard the dull rumble of falling stone and the crack of shattering masonry topped by the exultant squawks of demons. The karron had reached the square.