were no grounds for confidence there and precious little more in front of him.
With the light fading fast and prospects for an attack growing as night took over, he'd come straight from his long boat to survey the house. To his surprise The Raven had put the defensive decisions in his hands while they discussed what to do about the Dordovan mages. He knew it was a mark of their respect for his ability but even so, they were The Raven. He couldn't deny the pride he felt.
Having established that there was nowhere else to hide or protect anyone on the island, he'd turned his attention to defending the house. Already, Protectors were blocking rear entrances to the main building and the three standing wings; and more were assessing the main entrance.
Signalling Aeb to come with him, he walked down the orchard towards the front of the house, taking in the tumbled brick, slate and wood and the teetering roof where it sat on unsound foundations. Much of the huge wing had slipped into a crack in the ground but beyond the immediate devastation, there were walls still standing. The two men walked through the warped wooden doors into the main entrance hall, took in the work on the entrance and stopped by a series of doors into the west wing.
'Here,' said Darrick. 'All this needs to come down. I don't want there to be any way they can come in this side. Send some to the far end and do the same there as necessary. Our main problem will then be entry through the orchard, through the three eastern wings and through the ballroom roof, if they find the hole. And there, of course,' said Darrick, pointing at the main entrance. 'Gods but this place isn't going to be easy.'
'It will be done,' said Aeb.
They walked across the hall and up the corridor with the orchard on their right. There were three pairs of double doors, one leading into each of the wings which Erienne had described as insect legs from above. The first housed what were now little-used rooms, the middle, the Al-Drechar, and the last one the Guild quarters. That latter had passages into the ballroom, kitchens and store rooms. There were also return ways to the other wings. It was a warren of passages that troubled Darrick.
'We could bring the ceilings down,' said Aeb.
'But it doesn't necessarily stop access. These structures are sound enough, unlike the opposite side. They can come in through any window, any hole. And we have to assume we will win. We can't demolish the place unless we have to.' He looked into the impassive mask of Aeb. The Protector's eyes gave not a flicker, his shoulders not a shrug.
'Victory first, living later,' he said.
They were walking along the central corridor of the first wing. Doors led left and right to suites of rooms, dining areas, bathing facilities, indoor fountains, and roofed rock pools. Though the area had been soaked by flood water and rain that washed in through broken roof tiles and shattered windows, the structure didn't appear to be weakened.
'I understand your thoughts but we have a responsibility to those we eventually leave behind,' replied Darrick. That said, every turn they took increased his sense of desperation. Less than thirty warriors to defend a house that could have housed hundreds.
They walked through a service passage that linked the ends of all three wings, finishing in the Guild wing. They took a quick look at the passages to the kitchens and beyond, assessed the entrances into the wing from outside and returned to the service passage.
'This,' said Darrick. 'This has to be blocked in two places. We can't afford free movement through here.'
'Even our best efforts will not stop them forever.'
T know,' said Darrick. 'It's a question of driving them to where we want them to come, then withdrawing to the next dead point if we have to. It could be a very long day.'
Aeb nodded. 'They will all have to die.'
Spread among the masted skiffs and overcrowded long boats, the Dordovans made slow but steady going towards the island. The sun had gone down but a pale light still filtered across the sky from the moon, reflecting off the sea. The weather had calmed and, with cloud cover light and broken, Vuldaroq felt that at last things were beginning to go the right way.
But looking back over his shoulder, his eyes enhanced to banish the encroaching gloom, he'd have had to take his courage in both hands to say so. Etched on the dimming horizon was the outline of
the lead ship, its masts canted at a crazy angle, spars dipping in the water. He could still recall the awful sound of grinding wood on stone, the tearing out of the hull and the rush of water as it washed through the crippled vessel.
The remaining two ships had come about in a hurry, their captains roaring orders across the sudden panic of their decks, their wheels dragged round to force tight turns to starboard, the gusting wind driving them on, the fear of what lay beneath the water sawing at nerves. The dread vibration underfoot that would become a shuddering stop and a pitching of the deck that would signify disaster.
Casualties had been light but the entire force of soldiers and mages had been forced into the flotilla of skiffs and long boats. They had carried all the surviving small craft from the original fleet of seven, leaving space for something just short of one hundred and fifty bodies. It was enough, but Vuldaroq could already see the tiredness in the warriors who would be forced to row much of the night to make the island, and his mages were taking turns to fly alongside the overloaded boats, draining them of vital stamina.
Even so, he was confident now. They would make the island well before dawn and set up a camp to give them some rest at least before first light saw diem destroy the pitiful resistance that The Raven and their handful of Protectors would offer. The dragons were gone and he hoped they presented no real threat anyway. They were damaged and susceptible to focused mass casting and, without their fire, had to come close to inflict losses.
He turned his gaze forward again and could just make out the island in the distance. The extraordinary mana light column had gone but it had served its purpose for them all and with elves on the tillers of every boat, he had no fear of them driving too close to the shore or of making a wrong turn.
Still, there were preparations to be made. He signalled one of the mages who flew alongside his boat.
'It's time for our esteemed assassins to do a little work,' he said. 'I need to know the layout of any landing points, positioning of guards, buildings and any entry points. I want to know the type of terrain, the potential direction for our attacks and I want to know
whether there are any other forces there bar the ones we already know about.'
'Yes, my Lord,' said the mage, a young man with scared eyes. 'How many do you want to despatch?'
'All of them,' said Vuldaroq. 'And tell them not to engage unless their lives are directly threatened. Tell them to fly in below the level of the headland and to Cloak the moment they hit dry land. I don't want The Raven even knowing they've been there.'
'Of course, my Lord.'
'Excellent. Be about it then and take a rest yourself, you're looking a little tense,' said Vuldaroq, smoothing his robes.
'Thank you, my Lord.'
The mage flew away to one of the trailing long boats, Vuldaroq watching him go. He smiled and prodded the leg of the man in front of him with his foot.
'Feeling any better?' he asked. 'You know you really should stick to the land. Neither sailing nor flying are really your province, are they?'
Selik turned a scowling, white face towards him.
'Just see this bucket gets me there, Dordovan,' he slurred. 'And keep your smart mouth closed.'
Vuldaroq's smile faded and he leant in close but made sure his crew could hear him.
'You want to be a little careful how you speak. Look about you, Selik. All this potential for accidents.' Vuldaroq tutted and patted him gently on the shoulder. 'Hmm… So many Dordovans. Only one Black Wing.'