They lit a fire in a shaded copse, knowing the light would not be seen in Understone, and ate very well from a deer one of his archers brought down with an astonishing shot as they rode into their temporary campsite. As he watched them eat and talk, even share the odd snatch of song, Selik knew they felt it. This was the march of the righteous. No one could stand before the Gods and stand in their way.
'Rest!' ordered Selik, once the carcass was stripped. 'Sleep if you can; we have justice to serve.'
There was no complaint. They knew he was right. Come the end of the night some of them would be dead but a blow would have been struck. The first of many. While they slept, Selik watched and reflected. He had little need for rest these days, his mind churning endlessly with thoughts of duty and destiny.
When it was time to wake his men, Selik did so feeling like a father waking reluctant children. He served them hot tea himself, feeling closer to them than at any time and starkly responsible for what he was about to begin. For a moment these twenty men with dreams of their own – who wanted life, had wives and children – were more than just pawns to him. They were people he should nurture and protect. Just for a moment.
The walk was made in total silence. All the talking had been done. In the blank dark of early morning, deepened further by the looming shapes of the Blackthorne Mountains at their backs, the Black Wings took up their positions. It had been relatively simple. Anders, the garrison commander, posted no guards outside the compound, having long since abandoned the ghost town to its ethereal residents. This mistake allowed the Black Wings to lay their trap and, when they were ready, to spring it.
Across the quiet of the night came the sound of a lone horse, galloping hard. Its rider could be heard urging it on, begging it for more speed. The animal tore up the last twists and turns of the southern path before bursting into view in the dark cloudy early morning, sprinting for the only puddle of light it could see. Understone barracks.
Voices were raised inside. Feet could be heard running on earth and wood and the odd lantern was hung outside the walls, augmenting the firelight within and the braziers ranged along the top of the stockade.
The rider swung into the street and slewed to a halt in front of the gates in a cloud of dust, horse steaming and sweating, froth oozing from under the saddle and dripping from its bit. The rider all but fell from his mount, staggering to the gates and hammering on them, pleading with those watching from above to let him in, fear threatening to overwhelm him.
'Please! Please let me in. Dear Gods, they're right behind me. Please!'
'Who are?' demanded a voice. 'Calm down, man.'
'Black Wings,' gasped the rider. 'Can you not hear them?'
And there it was. The unmistakable sound of multiple hoof beats echoing across the town.
'You're a mage?'
'What else?' shouted the man, desperation edging his voice. 'Don't leave me out here to die, I beg you. Please.'
A brief conversation was ended by an order barked down from the parapet. A heavy plank slid back from its mountings and one of the braced stockade gates began to creak open.
'Now!' shouted a voice slurred by paralysis.
A dozen pairs of hands shoved at the gates as men ran from the shadows either side. Simultaneously, a quartet of arrows whipped up to the parapet, punching two men from their feet to thump lifeless onto the earth below. More followed, volley after volley, while the Black Wings drove the doors back.
Shouts ricocheted across the compound as the Black Wings pushed through. Selik headed them, moving left to slash his sword into the back of one of the men trying to keep the gates shut. His men piled in behind him, laughing as they came, slapping the gates back the last few feet and trapping one hapless college soldier against the stockade wall.
'Split!' yelled Selik. 'Gain the ramparts. Loose groups. Watch for spells. Go!'
He sped on, breath wheezing into his part-paralysed chest. He ran straight across the compound, stables to his left, barrack buildings ahead. Devun was at his shoulder, others either side, and he felt energy flood through him.
The door to the wide low barracks building opened and men spilled out, half dressed, half asleep, still buckling leather as they came. Anders led them. It was too perfect. Selik swept back his hood and struck hard, right to left. Anders, distracted, missed the blow, which sheared into his left arm and on into his unarmoured ribs. The garrison commander went down in a welter of blood, not even having the breath to scream as the blade sliced through his lung and heart.
The fight against magic had truly begun, and as Selik blocked a disheartened sword thrust and the first spell bloomed behind him, he still had time to remind himself to praise Devun for his superb acting performance before the compound gates.
Chapter 36
Aeb lay alone. The Calaian Sun was three days from Balaia and sailing well, easing through the water and eating up the distance. Above him, on the sun-swept deck, The Raven trained. He could hear Hirad shouting orders and The Unknown urging better cohesion. He could hear the occasional ring of steel, the creaking of the ship's timbers and the snap of the sails on the masts.
But he couldn't be with them because, like Erienne, who spent so much of her time lying still under the tutelage of the Al-Drechar, he had been called to commune with the Soul Tank. He felt the unease as soon as he opened himself fully. It was uncomfortable, drowning for a moment, the intense feelings of brotherhood he had with every Protector, near or far. It was what kept him sane and focussed; it was his life. His soul mingling with those of the other three hundred and twelve now left, still mourning those lost, still joyful in their own union. Still so powerful.
To be called to commune was a seldom-used level of psyche in the Soul Tank. It was as close to an interrogation as the Protectors ever got, not that the voices were ever silent. Aeb could always hear the voice of every soul. He would hate the emptiness if they were taken from him and that was what he feared most about being freed.
My brothers, it is joy to share my mind and soul with you, pulsed Aeb.
He could sense them all near him, feel the warmth shot through with anxiety as they responded in kind to his greeting. The Tank was agitated.
We must know where you are, Aeb, said Myx, one of the Lord of the Mount's honour guard. The Master worries.
It was what Aeb had been fearing. Thus far, he had kept the details of his mission from the Circle Seven but now his complex loyalties were set at odds. He was sworn to protect Xetesk but above that, he was given to Denser and stood by Sol. Sol, the beacon of hope, Sol the brother who had regained his soul. He felt a helplessness. Betrayal was coming. He knew it, his brothers knew it. All they could do was mitigate the scale.
Ask as you are ordered, said Aeb. I will respond as I must.
They could not refuse to ask a question they had been given and Aeb could not refuse to answer. To do so could invoke punishment from the demons who channelled the paths between their bodies and their souls. Nothing scared them but that.
Aeb listened and answered, and when the Communion was done, went to find Denser. There were things his Given had to know. The Calaian Sun sailed into the Bay of Gyernath three days later, still at least a day and a half behind the Xeteskian force but with the advantage of a stop-off at Blackthorne to get a first-hand and trustworthy account of the current situation from the Baron.
Aeb had been as careful as he could during his questioning in the Soul Tank. He had been forced to admit that The Raven had joined elves seeking revenge for the desecration of the temple and the return of the stolen texts. The Raven's original mission was also now known to the Xeteskians but Dystran would assume it had failed as The Raven hadn't persuaded a single mage to come with them. The fact that a dozen were on board and plenty more were assembled at Ysundeneth was not something Aeb had been required to reveal. After all, no one had asked him.