Yron fell flat, winded, his head thrown back, his gaze passing across Inell, two arrows in his chest, punching flat-palmed into the nose of the man who stood over him, driving bone into his brain. The man fell twitching to the ground, Inell following him, a blade driven through his lower back.
On top of him, Merke moved, her hand pressing on one of his. He opened it and the thumb was pushed into his palm.
'You know what to do,' she said, drawing a final ragged bubbling breath.
Rough hands pulled Yron from beneath her body, he making a play at struggling in order to slip the fragment into his pocket. His axe was taken from him and cast aside. Devun was in front of him, looking open-mouthed at the scene of carnage. More than a dozen men lay dead or dying.
'I told you,' said Yron thickly.
Devun swung round, his fist connecting with Yron's front teeth.
He felt them give and pain flared in his head as blood started to flow from his mouth and down his throat. He spat to clear his breathing.
'Don't you say another word, Xeteskian. The only reason you're still alive is that Selik will not thank me for killing you before he's interrogated you.'
'I'm already looking forward to it.'
'But I'm damned if I'm going to listen to your filthy college tongue all the way to Understone.'
He nodded. Yron felt a sharp blow to the base of his skull. It didn't hurt for long.
Chapter 44
The Raven rode hard throughout the day, aware that Aeb's injuries and the lack of casting power of all three mages made them vulnerable. Denser would be sporting new scars on his face and neck from the Familiar's attack but was otherwise not physically damaged. Ilkar had drained himself completely through healing, shielding and Communion, while Erienne was struggling with her concentration as the Al-Drechar fed her power from the One magic and asked her to cope with its increasing ferocity.
All the way across the south of Xetesk, Dordovan forces had pulled out, leaving Xetesk's search for Yron and the TaiGethen cell unmolested. Their threat had forced The Raven further south than they had anticipated and, towards the south-west, they saw the disturbing sight of clouds of dust hanging in the air, the unmistakeable sign of an army on the march.
The smart money was on the Black Wings but it wasn't something they could worry about unduly as they sought the allied college lines and information on the whereabouts of the elves and, most particularly, Rebraal and Auum.
They pushed their horses as far as they dared, hearing the battle very clearly long before they got close enough to begin identifying the forces engaged in heavy fighting to the south-east of the city. From their initial positions on the borders of the Xeteskian mage lands, Hirad estimated the Dordovan and Lysternan forces had driven in over thirty miles and were encountering Xeteskian resistance some five miles from the walls.
The Raven encountered several perimeter patrols, mainly Lysternan cavalry. These meetings gained them crucial information but the rumour mill would start too and its outcome was not necessarily positive. Although The Raven were a sight most allied forces could only dream of seeing, one of their number was the former commander of Lystern's army and wanted for desertion. Another was a Protector.
There were two hours of light left when The Raven rode into the forward camp of Lystern and Dordover's joint command. They were only a mile behind the battle lines, on a rise that gave a good view of the whole front. The Unknown and Darrick led The Raven to an observation point and they looked down on the extraordinary spectacle of college warfare.
The fighting was concentrated in an arc around a quarter of a mile across though other fronts were evidenced by smoke and light further to the east and north-east.
Below The Raven, the main allied force pressed a sword and spear attack. Behind both lines, ranks of archers fired at each other and the knots of offensive and defensive mages, while the flanks were protected by pikemen and the more mobile cavalry.
Izack was here, so they were told, directing battle and rotating his cavalry to keep them as fresh as he could. They harried the flanks of the Xeteskians, engaged their cavalry, feinted charges deep behind the enemy and rode hard in defence of any weakening areas of their own line.
The roar of battle was deafening, even from here. The desultory thud of spells punctuated the yell of orders, the cries of panic and pain, the whinnies of horses and the constant clash of metal.
Reinforcements ran in from both sides, groups of fighters moving under questionable mage protection. Shields flared under the bombardment; those that cracked leaving their charges helpless to the merciless mana power. And older men, women and youths were everywhere – supplying arrows, water and food where they could and carrying the injured and dying from the battlefield.
All around The Raven the air smelled of blood, sweat and fire. HotRain sluiced out of the sky over the support and reinforcements, ForceCones smashed out, DeathHail sliced away at groups of cavalry. Across the lines, ruptured earth and heaved stone were the residue of EarthHammers.
The Unknown turned to Darrick. 'How do you see it?' he shouted over the din.
'Xetesk can't outflank.' Darrick pointed away west. 'They must be fully committed on all fronts. We need to get down there onto the field. Speak to Izack.'
'Got a couple of ideas for him?'
Darrick nodded, smiling, and The Unknown could see him yearning to be there in the midst of the confusion, a snorting horse under him, blood-slick sword in hand.
'We'll also get the best intelligence on the elven positions.'
'I don't see any Protectors here,' mentioned The Unknown.
'No, interesting, isn't it?'
'Raven!' The Unknown turned. 'We are leaving.'
The big warrior led them back to their horses, the animals tethered in a group fifty yards from the observation point. They looked tired and forlorn, eyeing their riders with weary resignation.
'Hirad, Thraun, flank positions,' said The Unknown as they mounted, the noise of battle diminishing just enough for normal speech. 'Mages, inside the arc, and if you have enough for a SpellShield, now's the time. Darrick, centre with me. Ren, Aeb, you've got the rear.'
The Raven kicked away, drawing cheers from some they passed. The Unknown took them quickly down the slope and into the maelstrom. Among the fighting, the untutored eye saw nothing but a storm of blood, mud, men and steel. Immediately to their left, a pair burst from the mass, Xeteskian tumbling over Dordovan in the mud, punches flying, each man desperate to get a blade round for a killing blow. But the Xeteskian was lost in the midst of the enemy. He was hauled up by Dordovan hands, stabbed half a dozen times and dropped face down.
Far out on the right flank, The Unknown saw a man who had trained under the best. Izack was leading a charge into a confused area of fighting. Xeteskian spells had crashed through one too many SpellShields and allied reinforcements had died before they reached the line. Archer support was weak and it was all the remaining mages could do to shield those who still stood.
As the Lysternan cavalry galloped in, Izack's booming voice could be heard across the battlefield. Foot soldiers pushed away and disengaged, giving the horsemen maximum space to move through.