'HardShield up,' said Erienne.
'SpellShield up,' said Ilkar.
Secure, Hirad began a trot, The Unknown to his left and just ahead of him, Darrick to his right. Aeb and Thraun ran the other side of the big man. They burst into the stone apron clearing in front of the temple a few paces behind Ren, who had stuttered to a stop.
'Get behind me now!' roared Hirad.
The elf started and began to back off, head switching to either side. Rebraal was in the centre of the apron, walking slowly towards the temple doorway which was closed by rough wooden planking. From both sides of the apron and from behind the temple, elves were emerging.
Hirad stopped The Raven.
'Check left,' he said.
'Twenty targets,' said Aeb instantly. 'More probably in shadow.'
'Check right,' said the barbarian.
'Similar,' said Darrick. 'Bows and swords.'
'Be calm,' said Ilkar, voice quiet with concentration on his spell. 'They're Al-Arynaar.'
'I'm taking no chances,' said Hirad. 'Keep focussed, Raven. Move slowly. Keep them in front of us if you can.' Ren took her place in the line under Hirad's glare. 'Never again or you walk.'
'But-'
'Later.' Hirad cut across her protest and returned his attention to the situation in front of them.
The Al-Arynaar – there were over thirty of them on the apron now – were clearly confused by what they saw. Their anger at the strangers in their midst was obvious enough but it was tempered by the sight of Rebraal. Hirad shuddered at the thought of what would have happened had he not been there. He'd had no inkling the elves were there until they appeared from the shadows. All that bothered him now was that they might decide Rebraal was an escaped captive. Shields or not, he didn't fancy taking on this lot.
'Rebraal?' he called.
The elf held up a hand. 'Quiet.' But he looked round and the suggestion of a smile crossed his face. His next words were in elvish and Hirad heard Ilkar's name mentioned.
'Shield down,' said Ilkar, and moved out from the line, stopping in front of Hirad. 'Keep your guard up but don't be aggressive. There's no magic here but I'd keep the HardShield up if I were you. Some of them look a little twitchy.'
'Be careful,' said Hirad. 'You're vulnerable.'
'I'll be standing next to my brother,' said Ilkar, but he didn't appear convinced himself.
'Yes, and not us.'
Ilkar nodded and walked onto the apron, Al-Arynaar eyes following him all the way. All Hirad could do was watch. Rebraal spoke quickly to an Al-Arynaar who had come forward to embrace him. He indicated Ilkar, gestured at The Raven and at the temple. Hirad saw him nodding, then start violently before running to the temple door, Ilkar right behind him.
The Raven took an automatic pace forward. The elves moved across the apron, blocking their route to the temple. Hirad held up a hand to calm them. He could see the hate dripping from some of their faces, the desire to kill clear in every gaze, the grip on every weapon and the intent in every stance. Perhaps fifty stood before them now. Too many.
From within the temple Hirad heard an anguished cry. Shouting echoed out into the forest. The rough doors were pulled aside and Rebraal came storming out, Ilkar pacing beside him, voice raised, talking into his ear. But Rebraal wasn't hearing whatever it was Ilkar was saying.
'Trouble,' said Ren.
'What's he saying?' asked Hirad, not turning.
'Something's been damaged in there. The statue. Rebraal's blaming every stranger. That includes you.'
The tension spiralled. The Al-Arynaar bunched and moved forward as Rebraal and Ilkar passed them. Arrows were nocked, belt pouches unclasped and swords raised.
'Ready, Raven,' said Hirad. 'Don't strike first. Block away. Denser, you got something that doesn't involve fire?'
'Plenty,' said the Xeteskian. 'I'm ready.'
Rebraal's face betrayed the blindness in his mind. He was pushing Ilkar away but the Julatsan kept on coming back, casting very anxious glances at The Raven. A handful of paces in front of them, with the Al-Arynaar bearing down, Ilkar got between Rebraal and his targets, shoved his brother back and snapped out a stream of elvish that stopped him a moment.
Hirad knew enough to realise it was a challenge.
'Raven,' he began.
'Stay there,' said Ilkar. 'Trust me.'
'Unknown?' asked Hirad.
'Be ready.'
The Unknown's blade tapped on the stone in front of him, sending a chilling toll across the open space while his mind cleared for battle.
Ilkar grabbed the flaps of his own leather jerkin and pulled them apart, daring Rebraal to kill him. Hirad watched Rebraal's eyes narrow, heard his words grate out and saw his gesture ordering Ilkar aside. Ilkar shook his head. Laid down the same challenge again. One word Hirad heard this time as clear as a bell at dawn. Raven.
The brothers stared at each other. Rebraal's eyes didn't flinch and didn't blink. The forest around them faded in Hirad's consciousness. All he could hear was the sound of The Unknown's sword tapping on stone, all he could see were the two elves in a stand-off that would decide The Raven's fate. He felt a drip of sweat run down his back and gripped his sword tighter, aware of his slick palm.
In front of him Ilkar was perfectly still, his nerve not faltering. He spoke again, quietly now into the relative silence. His words carried utter determination. Rebraal said nothing in response but there was a flicker across his face. He glanced briefly at The Raven, back to Ilkar and nodded once, curtly, before spinning on his heel and taking the Al-Arynaar into the temple.
Ilkar turned to The Raven, his face pale but a smile spreading across his face.
'Thank you,' he said. 'We're safe for now.'
'Shield down,' said Erienne.
The Raven surrounded Ilkar. He was shaking now and he put his face in his hands.
'Oh Gods, it's bad,' he said.
'What is?' asked Hirad.
'Give me a moment,' said Ilkar.
'What have they gone to do?' asked Hirad, flicking his head at the departed Al-Arynaar.
'Pray,' said Ilkar. 'And if you had any sense, you'd be doing the same.'
Chapter 29
The bandages boiled once again in the mugs above a small fire consisting mainly of embers. Smoke spiralled into the bright dawn sky, cloud clearing after the latest burst of rain. Yron had made Ben-Foran as comfortable as he could in a cut-in above the sloping banks of the River Shorth late the night before, after walking into the evening only because Ben had dredged energy from somewhere and didn't want to stop.
Yron had boiled the blood-soaked bandages that night and replaced them, and now he was repeating the procedure he still refused to believe was futile. But Ben was dying. The fact would have been obvious to a blind man. His night had been full of delusions. He'd cried out and Yron had forgone any rest to be at his side, to soothe his fears. Infection was setting in quickly despite Yron's best efforts and his knowledge of rainforest herbs.
He'd been without food too. They both had, existing only by chewing on the scraped bark and leaves of guarana, which provided basic energy. It had to be enough. They didn't have the time or the energy to hunt, or forage for anything other than medicinal plants.
And Yron himself was beginning to succumb. His bites from the piranha weren't healing and the insects had done their work too. He thought he might make it back to the ship but only if he was unencumbered. Trouble was, there was no way he was leaving Ben.
While the bandages bubbled, he fed Ben guarana and made him drink menispere to fight the fever. He laid boiled leaves of the same plant on his horrible leg wounds, apologising for the thousandth time as the pain ravaged his lieutenant. But as usual Ben didn't cry out or complain. Indeed he even managed a smile.