Elfsorrow

'I'm no expert, Ren, but I always thought bows needed a string to work.'

The elf crumbled and threw her arms around Erienne's neck, buried her head in her shoulder and cried hard. Erienne held her, looking around at The Raven and gesturing them to stay away. Even Ilkar stared on, his face creased with a guilt he had no right to be feeling.

'Sorry. I'm sorry,' said Ren eventually, pulling away and wiping at her eyes.

'It's all right. You probably needed it.'

'Seems like I've been needing it constantly just lately.'

'I know, Ren, but you have to put it aside for now. String your bow and be ready to fight with us.'

The elf nodded and grabbed her weapon from its resting place. 'I don't know how you do it, any of you,' she said, fishing in her sack for her leather-wrapped bow string. 'He's dying and there's nothing we can do and yet you go on like nothing's happened.'

'Don't ever talk that way,' said Erienne sharply. 'You have to believe. Ilkar's not dead yet and if Hirad believes we can save him, we all believe it and you must too. We've been here before. We've seen our friends die, and the best way we can honour them, if that's all it can be, is by doing the right thing. This time it's reclaiming the Yniss fragment and saving as many other elves as we can without losing any more of our people.

'That's why we look so calm. It's because if we thought for one moment we might fail and that Ilkar might die, we'd already have lost. And The Raven do not like to lose.'

'So I've noticed,' said Ren. 'But you're not even with him, talking to him. It could be the last chance you get.'

'Fate decides that, Ren. And, who knows, he could survive the trip to Calaius. Until he dies, we believe we can save him.'

'But-'

'No buts, Ren. It's as simple as that.' Erienne pushed herself upright. 'It's the only way to think. Come on.'

She held out a hand and Ren accepted it and pulled. The two walked back to the centre of the camp.

'We all ready?' asked Hirad.

'Yes,' said Ren decisively.

'Good, then let's be on our way.'

The Raven walked out of the camp. Hirad put an arm around Ren's shoulder.

'It's all right to feel like you do. We all do. But do it later. Right now, we have work to do and we need you.'

'You do?'

Hirad shrugged. 'Of course. You're Raven.'

Behind them, Erienne smiled. Denser was beside her and they watched as Ilkar walked as easily as he could to Ren's other side and laid his arm across her shoulders too. She responded, wrapping an arm around each of their waists.

'A picture of the professional mercenary approaching battle,' said Denser.

Erienne jabbed him. 'Leave them be.'

'How's the body this morning, Ilks?' asked Hirad.

'Agony,' said Ilkar. 'But I'm walking.'

'Good. Can't spare anyone to carry you, anyway.'

'Your sympathy overwhelms me.'

'I do my best.' Hirad looked across Ren to Ilkar, and Erienne could see his expression in profile, picked out in the vague pre-dawn light. It was desperate, still disbelieving. 'Anyway, the pain won't last for ever. It's only twenty-odd days to the temple.'

Ren tensed but Ilkar laughed. 'I'll attempt to keep my insides from decomposing too much before we get there.'

'Bloody right,' said Hirad. 'I'm not sharing a cabin with you if you smell.'

Their chuckles echoed a little loud.

'Keep it down,' said The Unknown.

It was only a mile to Understone. Auum watched The Raven go, ambling away down the slope like they were out for an early-morning stroll. He heard their talk and laughter and shook his head.

'Perhaps my assessment was premature,' he said.

'It's their way,' said Rebraal. 'We pray to ease the tension and fear, they talk to keep their minds from it until the moment arrives.'

'I will never understand strangers,' said Auum.

The TaiGethen bowed their heads and prayed to Yniss to keep them strong for the fight to come. Auum murmured offerings to Tual while he painted Duele's face, and when all three were ready they stood with the ClawBound.

'Fight with us, Rebraal. You are our link to The Raven so keep close. This day we will start to right the crimes committed against us. This day I will hold the thumb of Yniss in my hand or I will be travelling to meet him to account for my failings in this life. This I swear.'

The TaiGethen jogged from the camp, heading for the eastern edge of Understone, Rebraal with them. The ClawBound, swift and sure, were just ahead. Auum felt no thrill, just a sense that Yniss might once again be prepared to look their way.

And the god would be looking down when the desecrators and thieves and those who thought to kill his people paid. The Raven looked down on Understone. It was quiet. Along the single street the ramshackle buildings still stood: the inn, the grain store, the boarded-up traders' offices, the whorehouses, a few homes. Elsewhere the ground was covered with tents and shelters, all dark and silent. There were over a hundred of them. The only life was in the stockade at the western end of the town. Fires burned around the rampart and lanterns shone from barracks windows. They could see figures walking the raised platform. After the end of the second Wesmen wars, the town had been rebuilt in the image of the old in the hope of renewed trade with the west and just as quickly abandoned again. Only the stockade had remained staffed.

'That'll be where Selik is,' said Hirad.

'All in good time,' said Darrick. 'We'll do this in the right order and be the safer for it.'

They moved quietly now, heading for the first tents. Spread panic, Darrick had said. Target the tattoos. Let them make the moves and see who is prepared to fight. Not many, guessed Hirad, but time would tell.

Fifty yards from the tents and all was according to Darrick's plan. The bulk of the Black Wings were looking after themselves in the stockade and the innocents, if you could truly call anyone that who had travelled here to fight with Selik, were unguarded in their tents. They didn't understand conflict. Didn't realise the vulnerability of masses of men to targeted magical attack. Why should they? They were tradesmen.

'He'll have paid mercenaries too,' said The Unknown. 'We'll know them when we see them.'

'Paid,' mused Hirad. 'An unfamiliar idea for us these days.'

'Erienne, Denser, ready?'

The pair nodded, preparing, melding their constructs for wider effect.

'A short sharp shower. When it's down, we go and we don't stop,' said Darrick. 'Is everyone clear?'

'Ilks?' asked Hirad.

'My ears are on the side of my head not in my gut, Hirad. Yes, I hear and understand.'

'Just checking.'

Hirad felt a touch on his back. 'Thank you.'

Hirad readied himself, checked his hilt for loose binding again and angled the blade to see the edge. The drizzle had stopped and the cloud was shifting. It would be a bright dawn. A few birds began to call. From somewhere the bleating of a sheep carried over to them. It was tranquil. Just for a moment.

'Casting,' said Denser faintly.

HotRain filled the sky above the southernmost tents. For a while they watched it fall, tears of flame the size of thumbs. Thousands of them. People were going to die in terror. So be it. From the stockade the first shouts of alarm were raised. HotRain struck canvas and canvas burned. The screaming began.

'Raven!' yelled Hirad. 'Raven with me!'

He ran towards the first tents, seeing movement bulging against the canvas. The HotRain shower was almost gone but it had done its job, deluging the acre of canvas in flame. Everywhere smoke was rising, fires agitated at rope and cover and the pitch of voices rose with every heartbeat.

He slashed at the guy ropes of the nearest tent and thumped his hilt against a shape inside, sending the victim sprawling.

'Run!' he shouted. 'Run!'