‘Assassins? Your Highness, if those troopers have come to any harm, Her Imperial Majesty will be extremely displeased. Likewise this man.’ He nodded towards Okrael, who blinked back through unfocused eyes. ‘He may have evidence germane to my mission, and as such should be afforded the empire’s protection.’
‘So you do admit you’re in this together.’
With an icy fist clutching at his innards, Talgorian could see that he was getting nowhere. ‘Please be aware, Highness,’ he said, playing his last card, ‘that I have the backing of the Empress herself.’
‘The backing of my enemy, more likely! Death’s agent!’
‘This is absurd, sire! You’re making a terrible mistake!’
The Prince glared at him malignly. ‘We’ll see how much of a mistake I’m making when torture extracts the truth. Take them to the cells!’
It was still snowing on the Diamond Isle, too, albeit less fiercely.
Vivid eruptions and the flicker of magical beams lit up the night. On the redoubt’s parapet, Serrah and Caldason gazed towards the sea. They could just make out a multitude of masts, shrouded in white canvas.
‘I don’t care what your parentage is, Reeth,’ Serrah said. ‘It’s you I love. Everything else is background chatter.’
‘Look at it from my point of view.’ He gestured in frustration. ‘I’m proud of being a Qalochian, but ashamed of my Founder blood. That Founder heritage has effected me in all sorts of disturbing ways. My rages are obviously due to it; the two opposing sides of my nature are at war, I see that now. And maybe there are other little gifts I don’t even know about yet.’
‘But if it hadn’t been for the life extension the blood gave you, you’d be an old man now. Or quite possibly dead. We would never have met.’
‘I’ve thought about the irony of that a lot, Serrah, believe me. I’ve also worried about the great age difference between us.’
‘Oh, don’t start that again, Reeth. It’s not a problem for me; it shouldn’t be for you either. Let’s just be grateful that fate brought us together, shall we?’
‘You’re right. But that’s kind of ironic too, isn’t it? Finding each other at a time when future prospects hardly look bright. Assuming we have any future prospects.’
Serrah looked at him meaningfully. ‘We have each other and we have the moment. That’s more than a lot of people get. Look, forget us for a minute and think about the bigger picture. What did you make of what Praltor said about the Founders surviving?’
‘It occurred to me to wonder if it was some kind of mistake, or if he was imagining it all.’
‘Reeth. I know it’s hard to take, but don’t go into denial over this. It wasn’t Praltor’s opinion, it was from the Source. He couldn’t fake that.’
‘I know. As you said, it’s not easy discovering certain things about yourself.’
‘Look on the bright side. It’s not every day you find out you’ve got such influential relatives.’
Caldason had to smile.
They kissed.
A chorus of shouts went up. The lookouts stationed on the battlements were sounding an alarm.
‘What is it?’ Serrah said.
‘Look.’ He pointed.
A wagon was heading for the redoubt, accompanied by a handful of riders. The group rode hell for leather.
Serrah had a spy tube. ‘Reeth! It’s Dulian and Quinn.’
They were being pursued. Several dozen mounted soldiers were after them, their horses huffing white clouds in the chill air.
One or two of the redoubt’s sentries began unleashing arrows. Serrah and Caldason ran for the stairs, and went down them in a breakneck clatter.
When they reached ground level they found the gates had already been opened. Defenders were roaring encouragement at the approaching wagon, and adding to the rain of arrows zeroing in on its pursuers. The latter had already slowed, cautious enough not to get too close to the fortress.
As the wagon and its smattering of outriders neared safety, there was another development. A body of soldiers emerged from the treeline, their uniforms grey against the night’s blackness.
‘How many, do you think?’ Caldason asked.
‘Forty or fifty, maybe more. Shit, Reeth, they’ve got to us already. The island must be overrun.’
‘Not necessarily. It’s a basic tactic to send in advance groups of shock troopers. These are probably pathfinders. Small in number but veterans.’
The wagon and riders thundered into the redoubt, to cheers. A mass of defenders put their shoulders to the gates and got them rapidly closed.
Karr and Disgleirio looked shaken but were unharmed. Several of the men with them had minor wounds.
‘We were lucky,’ Karr explained as they helped him down. ‘Which is more than can be said for some of our comrades, I’m afraid.’
‘What happened?’ Caldason asked.
‘We were simply overwhelmed,’ Disgleirio replied. ‘It was all we could do to get out.’
‘What about the fortress?’
‘Holding, and quite well, I’m pleased to say. But they only have to wait it out, of course.’
‘It’s a chaotic situation out there,’ Karr added. ‘Defenders are holding some parts of the island and invaders others. We’ve got pockets of our people cut off all over the place. It’s anarchy.’
‘Any idea where Darrok is?’
‘No.’
‘Is there any good news at all?’ Serrah wondered.
Before anyone could speak, the lookouts were in full voice again, bellowing warning.
‘And that’s unlikely to be any,’ Caldason reckoned, making for the wall.
Serrah and Disgleirio followed, along with scores of others. They crowded the grilles and arrow slits. What they saw was a lone rider heading their way, with a mob of invaders on its heels.
‘Looks like a straggler,’ Disgleirio said.
Serrah had her glamour tube. ‘Gods. It’s Pallidea.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘There’s no mistaking that red mane. Here, look for yourself.’ She handed him the tube.
The rider’s pure white horse swerved to avoid a line of invaders blocking the way, then took off in the direction of the half ruined fairground.
Serrah clutched Caldason’s arm. ‘We’ve got to help her, Reeth.’
‘Come on.’
They hurried back across the courtyard, to find that Phoenix and Goyter had joined Karr. Swiftly, they told him what they’d seen.
‘We can’t spare a sizeable number to go after her,’ Karr told them. ‘In fact, I can’t see that we’re in a position to send anybody, whoever needs rescuing.’ He looked genuinely pained. ‘I’m sorry, but defending this place has to come first.’
‘Of course,’ Serrah replied. ‘But you’ve no objection to us going?’
‘I have, actually. I don’t want to risk losing you both. But I know that what I say won’t make the slightest difference. Just promise me that if things look too hopeless you’ll abandon the idea and get back here.’
‘We will.’
Goyter waved in a groom leading a pair of horses. Across the saddle of each was a breastplate and helm.
‘I’m not wearing those,’ Caldason stated.
‘You need all the help you can get,’ Goyter insisted. ‘Both of you. And the armour’s surprisingly lightweight. Now hurry up and get into it.’
Caldason surrendered and hefted the breastplate. Serrah was already in hers. Several people clustered around to help tie their stays.
‘I’ve something else that might be useful,’ Phoenix said, showing them a small black cube on his palm.
‘What is it?’ Caldason asked.
‘A personal deflection shield. It’s got enough of a range to cover both of you, providing you stay together, and it’ll protect against most edged weapons or projectiles. Have either of you used one before?’
‘Never,’ Caldason said.
‘A few times,’ Serrah acknowledged. She was fastening the strap on her helmet.
‘Then it can be in your care,’ the magician decided, handing it to her. ‘But don’t forget that it’s short-lived.’