'The Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen should stay,' said Auum. 'We can return the fragment and the Raven mage will facilitate the binding. We still have sacred texts that must be reclaimed.'
Duele raised his eyebrows. 'Confident in their ability, are you?' he said, scepticism in his voice.
'They are certainly… determined,' conceded Auum. 'And they care, that much became apparent today.'
Evunn nodded. 'They move fast and are direct. We would have been a long way further back down the trail tonight.'
'I am confident enough that we can succeed on our own with them. Moving the rest of the elves will bring trouble. Ilkar was right. We should stop the withdrawal.' He turned to the ClawBound elf. 'You are in contact range?'
A nod.
'The elves must fight on. I have asked for this. I'd rather the Sorrow took them while they fought than uselessly on board ship. We will recapture the thumb. Will you relay these messages?'
Another nod.
'Yniss will see us safe. He has given us these strangers to aid us,' said Auum. 'We should not be ungrateful.'
The light of the next dawn was still faint when the panther began to growl and roar, the alien sounds of ClawBound communication echoing over Balaia for the first time. Ilkar felt every stride of his horse through his body as if the hooves were trampling over him. He'd demanded he ride on his own, determined not be an invalid. Against all odds, he'd had a fairly comfortable night and it was not until the panther had set up its unearthly resonant calls that the pain had gripped him again and all but taken the breath from him.
He still remembered Ren's touch and he recalled her tears as they fell asleep. He was just thankful she was still free. But his own sudden falling had been a stark reminder that in the next breath it could be her turn.
The Raven rode hard or walked their horses at a march for the whole day, once stopping briefly for a meal. Their direction would take them close to but east of Understone on a route that would keep them hidden from the town, with Darrick assuring them that ideal cover and a base for their attack was only a mile or so the other side.
Ilkar hoped and prayed he was right. At times during the day the pain became all but unbearable but he refused to cast to dull it or ask them to slow to ease it. There was fire in his veins and venom in his muscles. His stomach felt like it was being eaten from the inside, there was a rattle every time he took a breath and his heart beat off-rhythm, palpitating, slowing and pounding such that he felt it would crash through his ribs. His eyes played tricks on him while his ears heard sounds that couldn't be – his mother's voice calming him, his tutor at Julatsa chiding him for laziness, the sound of the wind in the sails.
Through it all he kept upright in the saddle and replied in the affirmative when any of them asked, and they asked so often it almost made him laugh, whether he was all right. Stupid question and they all knew it.
It was past dusk when they stopped in a river valley into which rocks had tumbled in ancient times, creating a maze of streams and a patchwork of green and grey. Darrick had been right. It was ideal cover. The ClawBound loped in an hour or so later. Ilkar only dimly heard what Hirad and The Unknown said to the pair before they settled down to rest. By the time he had eaten, his ears roared with a sound like thunder and his body shook with cold although the night was mild and cloudy.
'It's just us now,' Hirad said, more for the benefit of Ren and Darrick than the more seasoned members of The Raven. 'We have to work closely, move as one and keep on moving whatever we come up against. We faced down an army yesterday. Tomorrow we go to fight not talk. We all know why.'
'We'll be moving just before dawn,' said The Unknown. 'Take the fight to them while they're still dull with sleep. We can't rely on Ilkar's defence because we won't know his condition one moment to the next but we're all right because they won't have spell attack. We'll be fighting without the TaiGethen or the ClawBound pair. They will attack as they must, all we've agreed are start points. Don't look to them. We're The Raven; we don't need anyone else. Not to defend, and not to help us.' He watched them all for reaction. 'Now, Aeb, you have something you need to say.'
The Protector was standing at the periphery of the fire.
'You were wrong to bring me,' he said. 'The Act of Giving will soon be rescinded. It is just a matter of time.'
'It was a risk we were all happy to take,' said Denser.
'Xetesk know we are here,' he said. 'They know what we seek.'
'And when will they get here?' asked Hirad.
'Tomorrow. Morning.'
'Then,' said Thraun, surprising them with speech after another lengthy silence, 'we had better be quick.'
Chapter 47
When The Raven camp stirred, a light drizzle was falling. Ilkar had not slept much and looked every inch the dying elf. It was awful to witness. Shivering, Erienne kissed Denser, rose to her feet and breathed in deep. She felt the cool air rush into her lungs, banishing the fog she always felt around the entity of the One at first waking and easing the thumping in her head.
The Al-Drechar hadn't spoken to her since that night in Blackthorne Castle and she was glad of it. They had opened the door a little further to power from the One and allowed her the freedom to handle it as best she could. And she had responded, working on partitioning her mind a third way to deal with the new power she alone on Balaia possessed. Further than that they had not offered questions or advice, leaving her and The Raven to do what they did best. And today was going to be a severe test of their belief. She wondered whether she dared employ what she had learned.
Windmilling her arms to smooth out the knots in her muscles, she looked at them all preparing. In so many ways like so many other preparations. While they honed the edges of their swords The Unknown, Hirad, Aeb and Darrick talked quietly, refining tactics and attack order, with Thraun standing near, taking in everything. Next to Erienne, Denser sat cross-legged in meditation, focussing his mana and examining his stamina levels. Ever since the casting of Dawnthief, he had come to a new understanding of mana. It had made him an exceptionally efficient caster.
Even Ilkar went through his routine, walking in tight circles, testing shapes and speed. Erienne wasn't sure if he was achieving anything in casting terms but it would keep his mind as far as possible from the dreadful fate towards which he marched.
Only Ren was apart from it. The bags under her eyes and the puffiness of her face told their own story and she was just sitting on the grass, her back to a rock, staring out into nowhere. Her gaze occasionally crossed them all and she would shake her head.
Erienne walked across and squatted down beside her. She had great respect for the quiet elven woman who had been such a source of strength to her in the long days that preceded Lyanna's death; when her desperation had been as keen as her grief subsequently became. Now the tables needed to be turned.
'Hey, anyone there?'
Ren'erei looked at her, a tear squeezing past her eye. 'I don't think so.'
'Time to get ready,' said Erienne. 'Have you checked your bow and blade?'
'Eh?' Ren frowned. 'Oh, yes.'
She waved her hand vaguely at her bow, which rested against the rock next to her.