Elfsorrow

A great roar erupted from the crowd below, fists and weapons punched the air. Selik held up his hands for quiet.

'You have all seen the war spread. It has torn down our peaceful towns and is destroying our beloved land. And now it is our turn to strike. Last night Lystern joined the war, as we knew they would. Even those who preach peace have betrayed us now. What more evidence do we need that, if we let it, magic will kill us all? So we will join the war. We will fight on one front only and that front will be Xetesk.'

A murmur ran through the crowd.

'They are the dark heart of magic and they must be thrown down. And once the surviving colleges see our power and the righteousness of our fight, they too will fall before us. We are on a march to victory. Nothing can stop us.'

Another roar.

'My friends, this is a great day to be a Balaian. Return to your commanders, strap on your swords and prepare to march!'

Selik turned to face Devun, a smile broad across his ruined features.

'It's finally happening, my friend. What Travers began a decade and more ago, I will finish. When will you reach your positions south of Xetesk?'

'Three days, Captain.'

'Excellent. I will join you in the field as soon as I can. There are more reserves coming in and I need to be here for a while yet. Meanwhile, you know the plans and the people trust you. It's beautiful isn't it?'

'Sir?'

'Light will dawn on a new order, an order not dominated by the evils of magic. We will all live outside the veil of fear. We are the righteous.' 'So what happened to you last night?' said Hirad to Denser as they rode from their camp the following morning, heading to the west of Xetesk, aiming to throw any pursuit off the scent.

'Some of their mages were sharp. As we flew in to drop the HotRain, I could see them casting. I veered away when Erienne cast but got clipped by the edge of a ForceCone. The jolt knocked my concentration all to pot and it was all I could do to hang on to the shape until a few feet from the ground. We were lucky.'

'That's what you call luck, is it?'

'Could have been DeathHail. Then we wouldn't be riding with you at all. As it was, I managed to get my legs under me as we landed but I was going way too fast.'

'Bad moment,' said Hirad. 'How's Erienne?'

'Well the arm's not broken but it's sore. It's a good job we're a couple of days from more action or she'd have trouble casting.'

Hirad was silent for a moment. He didn't feel in control of the situation and that made him uneasy. There were too many variables. Too much to go wrong.

'Are you happy with this hare-brained scheme we cooked up last night?' he asked.

Denser shrugged. 'I don't really see any alternative. If we're going to try and snatch Yron, then we have to have accurate information on his location in the college or we'll fail before we start.'

'But Aeb…'

'I know,' said Denser. 'It's just a matter of time before he's found out and he knows that. But he's the only one who can talk to the Soul Tank and get us what we need. Other Protectors are going to risk themselves too. Funny, isn't it? All these years and then you find Protectors have a collective conscience.'

'Yeah, and all these years and we find they're actually so vulnerable. '

'I suppose, but none of them have ever gone against Xetesk before, so a punishment for that crime has never even been considered. ' Denser paused and looked across at Aeb, who rode between him and The Unknown. 'We could still get away with it though. With the war escalating every day, rescinding the Act of Giving for one Protector isn't going to be top of anyone's agenda.'

'I hope you're right.'

'Xetesk have more important things to worry about. Lystern have been forced into the war alongside Dordover and that changes the balance against them. Blackthorne will be in Lystern in a couple of days to effectively pledge baronial support. Rebraal is going there too and the elves will be fighting alongside the other colleges. It's nasty out there.'

'I can't quite believe Dystran wants what Aeb says he does,' said Hirad. 'It doesn't make any sense.'

'Like I said, no elves, no Julatsa,' said Denser. 'But we've got to be focussed, not get caught up in the war. For us, saving Ilkar and Ren is all that matters.'

Hirad chuckled. 'So strange. Remember when we first met?'

'You wanted to kill me.'

'Sorry about that.'

'No offence taken,' said Denser, smiling.

'I hated you. So did we all. But now, a few years down the line, you'll attack your own college to save Ilkar.'

Another shrug. 'He's Raven. That's all there is to it.'

Chapter 41

Yron strode through the halls of Xetesk towards his meeting with Dystran, Erys scurrying to keep up, an escort of four mages and two Protectors around them. His anger had sharpened throughout the ride across Xetesk's mage lands to the city of his birth, and the immediate summons to Dystran's audience chambers at the base of the Tower had done nothing to calm him.

Filthy from the road, he swept through the doors as they were opened for him by a servant. The audience chamber was small but welcoming. Fires were lit on opposite walls and the sun shone in through a large arched window in front of him. Chairs were spaced around the room, all unoccupied. Leaning on the mantel to the left was Dystran, and standing next to him, supported by a stick, Ranyl, gaunt and sick.

Dystran came forward, his face alight with a smile.

'My dear Captain Yron and the excellent Erys, may I welcome you at the end of your fantastic journey.'

'Too many men are dead for any celebration, my Lord Dystran,' said Yron. 'And only by luck am I here at all.'

'Yes, I heard you had trouble with elves,' said Dystran.

'Trouble? My Lord, there is an army of them out there. They are well trained fighters. Their mages are skilled and all are utterly determined. Don't underestimate them. They are fearless and can take on Protectors because they are quick enough to beat them. And they will be coming here, though why the theft of some parchments, however holy, should inspire such a reaction, I'm not sure.' Yron could see Dystran was barely interested. He bit his tongue to be silent.

'Indeed,' said Dystran. 'But please, don't worry about it. We have the situation well in hand.'

'In the same way you have The Raven well in hand?' Yron said sharply. 'I am sorry, my Lord, but they came within twenty yards of catching me and I was assured they would be taken care of. Never even found them, did you? I say again, why are they and the elves so desperate to recover these texts?'

Dystran's smile thinned. 'Captain, Captain, Captain. Please calm yourself.' Had he not been the Lord of the Mount, his patronising tone would have earned him a punch in the face. 'It is true some of the efforts made to track The Raven have been less than effective but you have my personal assurance that they will shortly be dealt with decisively. Meanwhile, you are a returning hero. You have suffered terrible loss but all those who died have done so for the greater glory of Xetesk. And you have been on the trail too long. Look at you; clothes torn, axe blunted. I must apologise for dragging you here now but I would have sight of your treasures.'

Yron nodded, managing to relax a muscle or two. He turned to Erys, who passed over the leather satchel. Yron unclasped it and drew out the four texts that had made the trip. So many men dead, so little to show. He handed them to Dystran, who laid them immediately on a table near him and spread them out.

'The one in the middle there, my Lord,' said Erys, pointing at a bound volume with intricate embossing on the cover and gilt-edged pages. 'That is the Aryn Hiil unless I am sadly mistaken. In there are the secrets of elven longevity.'