Elfsorrow

There was a murmur around the table. Heryst looked to his immediate left, straight into the eyes of his mentor, Kayvel. He touched the arm of the white-haired strong old man, smiled and nodded.

'It has come,' he said quietly.

Kayvel sighed, his grey eyes sparkling in the sun and lantern light. 'And in my lifetime.'

'And I thank the Gods you are here to advise me.'

'Speak,' Kayvel said.

Heryst turned to the council table and spoke.

'My friends, you will know I am just returned from Dordover. I had thought to seek assurances from Vuldaroq that the conflict at Arlen was at an end before riding to Xetesk to seek the same from Dystran.

'Instead, I find that we are facing our gravest crisis for hundreds of years. We have suffered animosities and skirmishes in my lifetime but all these disputes were settled by negotiation. What we are facing now, my friends, is war. War between powerful colleges at a time when the very existence of magic is being questioned on Balaia. At a time when surely we should be pulling together to repair the damage magic has done to our land, two colleges seek to rip us all to shreds. All over a dead girl and the information two dying elves can give.

'Should we have been surprised? Possibly not. After all, we have seen Xetesk and Dordover battle over Lyanna; we have seen Dordover betray Erienne, one of their own, to the witch hunters; and we have seen our own General Darrick so sickened by our liaison with Dordover that he deserted his command. And the results of what Xetesk's Protector army did to Arlen are there today for all to see.'

'But is it war?' A voice sounded from the far side of the table. 'Could this not be another flexing of muscles?'

'I rode here and probably killed my horse in the process because it is war. Both colleges want it and we will be swept up in it, whether we like it or not. I fear for us and I fear for Julatsa because I do not believe this fight will end when either Xetesk or Dordover is beaten. The balance of magic will be irrevocably altered and the victor will inevitably desire dominion.

'Vuldaroq informs me that Xetesk has cleared its refugee camps by riding the people out like animals. They have scattered, many towards the Dord to the north. Some will inevitably come here.

'Kayvel, I need you to contact our deputation in Xetesk. Make sure they are unharmed and free. Are there any questions?'

He looked around the table. No one spoke.

'Good. I am going to rest and change. You are going to stay here and begin planning. And remember, if war comes to our borders and our negotiations come to nothing, we may have to defend not just ourselves but Julatsa too.'

The doors at the end of the chamber opened with a crash.

'My Lord Heryst, council. I apologise but I must speak.'

Heryst stilled the irritated murmur with a hand and acknowledged the head of his mana spectrum monitoring team.

'Go ahead, Dunera.'

'My Lord.' She nodded. 'We've got a problem in the spectrum over Arlen.'

'What is it?'

'I don't know,' she said. 'But whatever it is, people are going to die. Lots of them.'

'And the signature?' asked Kayvel.

'The mana is in flux, density increasing. It's huge, or it will be. And it's offensive in nature, no doubt of it.'

'Who's casting it?'

'Xetesk.'

'Do we have anyone in the vicinity?' Heryst kneaded his forehead.

'Yes. We have representatives with the Dordovans,' said Dunera, head dropping to her chest. 'They have refused to leave and I have already commended their souls.' Commander Senese ran along the back of the Dordovan lines, urging his men to greater efforts. Three days they'd repulsed comfortably the Xeteskians' attempts to push them out of the northern streets. But now this.

Dawn had seen fierce fighting on three fronts, with Protectors in every attack. His men were holding but only just, keeping key intersections secure as well as the southern edge of the Park of the Martyrs. But in the mana spectrum, something much, much worse.

They'd been following its development for hours; a cooperative spell that must be taking the combined stamina of over fifty mages. And planning defence and reaction was taking most of his magical resource, leaving this as a battle almost entirely without spell attack. Somehow, though, he had to break the enemy onslaught.

'Don't falter!' he called. 'Push on. You can break them.'

The power of the Protectors was awesome. Huge men, masked and silent, their dual sword and axe attacks directed by the soul mind so quickly and accurately. But Dordover had to stand up to them. To be exact, the scared men in front of him had to.

One of those men took an axe in his chest. He was cast into those behind, threatening for a moment to cause a breach in the line, but Senese filled it, sword deflecting a low strike.

'Keep going!'

Their commander's presence fighting alongside galvanised those near him. The din of order and weapon increased, and the Xeteskians' grinding advance was halted. Senese wheeled his blade and drove it at a Protector's heart. Without looking, the masked man whipped his axe across to block, following up with a sweep of his sword. Senese ducked, yelling a warning. The blade whistled just over him, slicing through stray hairs on his head and burying itself in the skull of the man next to him at the end of its arc.

Blood and brain sprayed into the air. The victim tumbled sideways to the ground. The Protectors stepped up their pace. Senese moved to block and thrust again and felt a presence at his right shoulder.

'Sir!' It was one of his field captains, a brave young man named Hinar. 'Drop back. You're needed at command!'

Senese flat-bladed a Protector across the mask, sending him staggering. Hinar saw his opportunity and thrust forward, his point piercing the enemy's armour and penetrating his stomach.

'Go, we can hold!' Hinar re-gathered himself to turn away an axe, the heavy blow making him gasp.

Senese forced a regular Xeteskian soldier back and ducked out of the combat, another man immediately moving to take his place. He ran back towards the ruined bakery in which he'd set up his command post. The lead mage met him halfway.

'We've got to pull back,' said Indesi, his face terrified, his hands grabbing at Senese's jerkin. 'We can't defend against this spell.'

'Find a way,' barked Senese. 'We are not running.'

'It's too big, it'll destroy us.'

'Then combine your shields and talk up your mages.' Senese stopped and spun Indesi round to look at the fighting. 'See those men? Up against it but they believe. Start believing yourself.'

'But-'

'And where will we run to, eh? Those bastards will chase us all the way to Dordover. We can't let them run the supply route from here to Xetesk. I will not yield.'

'Then break through right now or they will win anyway.' Indesi's voice was toneless, dead almost. 'You don't understand.'

'I understand we cannot afford to lose this town. That's what I understand.'

A piercing scream from inside the command post went straight through Senese.

'What the-'

But Indesi wasn't listening. He turned and ran to the door, shouted into its lantern-lit interior.

'Weave the defence grid. No gaps, dual skin.' He looked back over his shoulder at Senese before disappearing inside. 'It's coming. I warned you.'

Senese shuddered and began to run back towards the line. Perhaps there was still a chance. There were still men running across the small courtyard to the line he was defending. The enemy mages had to be right behind the Protectors. Surely the spell would be targeted by line of sight.