Nor were the Dordovans. He'd been given clear assurances that their path to Xetesk was clear of enemy college forces until close to the mage lands. And he had no reason to disbelieve the army command. The devastation in Arlen, shocking as it was, served as ample proof of Xetesk's intent to see them safely home. There were parts of the town where nothing would grow again, the magic had caused so much damage to the core of the earth. Like a smaller version of the Torn Wastes far to the west.
But something wouldn't let him relax, and it wasn't the vague threat of Black Wings and misguided non-mages. Riding in the midst of fifty Protectors he would hardly fear those. It was the elves. He had no evidence whatever that they had followed him across the ocean as The Raven would have done. And he had no evidence they were being trailed or watched but he just knew it was so.
And because of this feeling he ordered them to follow a path away from the cover of valley, crag and forest. He would even have avoided long plains grass if he could, but to do that they'd all have had to fly. So instead he drilled his guards and kept half of his mages awake and shielding them day and night. He was aware they thought he was mad, but they hadn't been in the rainforest. They didn't understand these elves' capabilities.
The Protectors of course said nothing, and he was grateful for their reassuring presence. The rest of them would be welcome to laugh in his face the moment the gates of Xetesk closed behind them. In fact, he decided, he'd be the one to start the laughter. Only Erys understood, but all his words with the researchers, foot soldiers and cavalry served to do was make him seem as ridiculous as the Captain.
Yron had spent several nervous days riding between the ruins of Grethern Forest and Thornewood but with no incident. They had stopped off in Erskan to find themselves unwelcome and the gates of the castle closed against them. And they had skirted the earthquake rubble of Denebre over which the birds would not fly. Nothing. Not a hint of trouble.
They were less than half a day from the Dordovan blockade of the Xeteskian mage lands as late afternoon began to give way to dusk, but still Yron refused to relax. One word from him and the Protectors that ran with him would pass the message to their brothers in the battle lines and the way would be cleared, but still he could not stop fidgeting.
His eyes flicked over everything. There was forest to their left but it was a mile away and to their right a long rolling hillside ambled up to a sheer cliff twice as distant as the forest. They rode through a plain of waving grass that barely brushed his feet.
'See anything, Erys?' he said.
'No, Captain,' said Erys a little wearily. 'But I am still watching, believe me.'
'Don't humour me, boy,' said Yron. Never mind weary, he felt absolutely exhausted. He'd hardly slept a wink since they'd left Arlen. 'Just do what I ask. Point and laugh later.'
'I won't be doing that,' said Erys. 'I've seen too much of you to take your hunches lightly.'
'Good, because I'm still sure.'
But inside he wasn't sure. Was he simply being paranoid? Dystran had assured him that The Raven were being monitored through the Protector, Aeb, and presented no immediate danger. And he hadn't seen a single elf. But he couldn't afford to be complacent. Because in complacency lay death.
The Xeteskian force rode and ran on easily, eating up the distance. Yron reacted to every bird call, every whinny of a horse, the rattle of tack, the chink of metal and the breeze playing over the grass. He shivered constantly, just waiting for the awful keening sound of a jaqrui crescent scything through the air.
Six miles from the lines he ordered the lead Protector to him.
'We will be nearing the Dordovan supply lines or rear scouts,' he said. 'They know what we're attempting and will be ready. Assume they know our position.'
'Yes, sir,' said Esk.
'I want a clear run. I don't want a single sword, arrow or spell coming within a hundred yards of me, do you understand?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Then I leave the timing to you and your brothers across the lines. Strike as required.'
'It will be done.'
Immediately, Esk ran off, twenty-five Protectors moving seamlessly to join him. The remainder closed ranks around Yron and Erys, the cavalry forming a wedge ahead, the mages scattered through the foot soldiers and cavalry, half holding their HardShields as they rode, the others with offensive spells part formed for quick casting. It was a drain but it wouldn't be for much longer.
Yron nodded, watching the Protectors sprint away to assault the rear of the Dordovan lines. It was oddly comforting to see them and he knew without any question that they'd achieve their aim. Still he carried on watching until long after they were completely out of sight. He turned his head to speak to Erys and the plain came alive all around them.
Shadows surged from the grass on both sides and crossed the path in front of them. An instant later, bows hummed and jaqrui howled through the darkening dusk. HardShields flared to deflect the incoming missiles, FlameOrbs arced into the sky, HotRain began to fall.
'Oh dear Gods,' muttered Yron, then shouted, 'I told you, I told you!'
The cavalry charged, riding down the elves ahead, swords thumping into the Al-Arynaar, who had no experience of fighting mounted swordsmen. At the end of the charge, the cavalry turned and split to sweep back along the flanks. The Protectors unsnapped weapons and stormed away to meet their attackers, the foot soldiers trailing in their wake. Yron dragged his sword from its scabbard, kicked his horse to escape the HotRain that poured from the sky and headed for the melee.
'No!' shouted Erys. 'No!'
'What?' Yron turned and saw Erys leaning out of his saddle, grabbing at his reins to pull him round. FlameOrbs splashed down close by, smearing across helpless foot soldiers.
'We've got to go!' yelled Erys.
'I will not run, boy.'
'Leave the Protectors. We have to get our cargo to Xetesk. Now.'
Yron knew he was right but recoiled from running and leaving others to die. TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar were closing in, hundreds of them streaming across the grass. How had they got here so quickly? More arrows bounced from the HardShield covering Yron. Somewhere nearby a panther roared, its voice picked up by others all around him.
'ClawBound too,' he whispered.
What in hell was going on? Surely this was a totally disproportionate response to the theft of a few crumbling parchments? But even as his blood chilled at the numbers suddenly against them, his horse moving nervously, skittish at the sound of the big cat, he could only marvel at how these elves had got so close.
'Now!' screamed Erys, as more HotRain appeared above them.
Yron nodded, put his heels to his horse's flanks, called the research mages and his cavalry guard to him and forged ahead, the sounds of death echoing in his ears. Auum made a quick analysis as he ran in, blade in his right hand, jaqrui in his left. The spells had served to scatter the foot soldiers and the tight knot of horsemen at the centre of the enemy but now answering spells were coming. Five elves at least were ablaze and dying, their bodies torches to light the gloom, their cries invitations to Shorth to take them.
To his left, well-ordered horsemen had carved through the ambush and were circling round to sweep along their flanks. Ahead, a line of Protectors spread in perfect order to wield the dual weapons they all carried and moved towards them. Behind them, spearmen moved nervously and, at the hub of it all, were the strangers he wanted, unsure and scared.
With Duele left and Evunn right, he sprinted in on a slight arc, other TaiGethen running counter arcs designed to confuse the enemy. Panthers roared and growled. He saw black shapes next to tall bound-elves running in from at least six points, one pair very close to him.