‘Where did they come from?’ asked Talan.
‘They must be camped near by. Watching the house on the orders of the Wytch Lords, no doubt.’ Richmond continued to scan the area into which the Wesmen had fled.
‘You took a risk there,’ said Ilkar, standing over the Dark Mage.
‘Justified, I think,’ said Denser, gesturing at the smouldering carcasses. ‘I’m learning to control it.’
‘So I see. Dangerous, though.’ Something caught Ilkar’s eye and he looked away.
‘And exhausting,’ said Denser. ‘I’m not even sure I can walk.’
‘Try,’ said Ilkar. ‘Try now.’ He could feel them all looking at him as he stared into the middle distance. ‘The dogs are coming back.’
‘Richmond, get the horses,’ ordered The Unknown. ‘Ilkar, see to Denser. Hirad, with me.’
Ilkar pulled Denser to his feet, the Dark Mage having to cling on to the elf’s cloak. With mounts spurred to a gallop, they began the race to the barn.
For Hirad, the ride was a blur of pain. He could feel the blood pouring from the wound in his back, soaking into his shirt and leather. With each stride, his energy ebbed as he thumped in his saddle, unable to maintain a riding rhythm. His eyes misted, his vision was ragged and he couldn’t properly see the way ahead. He was dimly aware of The Unknown moving close to him to hold him in his saddle. He didn’t even have the energy to indicate his thanks; it was all he could do to cling on to the reins.
Urgent orders were barked by The Unknown: the Destranas were catching them fast. They might just reach the barn before the animals overhauled them but it would be close. Richmond and Talan urged their mounts to greater effort towards the long low building. Hirad could feel his grip on consciousness slipping away. He dragged his head to one side to see Denser hunched over his horse with Ilkar shepherding him all the way. The Dark Mage looked for all the world as if he was dead.
Mustering the last of his strength, Hirad dug his heels into his mare’s flanks. The horse responded. The barn was only a hundred yards away. Richmond and Talan, having just reached it, pushed open a large door and slapped their horses inside. Moments later, The Unknown and Hirad thundered in and reined to a halt. The Unknown leapt from his saddle and Hirad slumped from his, legs folding, body sliding down the heaving flank of his horse.
‘Richmond, Talan, look after him,’ barked The Unknown.
He ran to the door and looked out. Denser and Ilkar were just yards away, the dogs almost on their heels, and rode past him into the barn. The Unknown moved a pace outside, pushed the barn door closed and slid the heavy wooden bolt home to lock it.
‘Unknown, what the hell are you doing?’ shouted Ilkar from inside the barn, pulling on the door, which gave only slightly.
‘Korina was the last time I fail to help my friends.’ The Destranas would be on him in a few heartbeats.
‘There’s no need, Unknown. They won’t hang around here for ever,’ said Talan. The banging on the door increased.
‘They will.’ Denser’s voice came laced with fatigue. ‘You don’t understand what they are. The door won’t hold them.’
‘He’ll die, you stupid bastard!’
The Unknown could hear the shouts of the barbarian as he squared up to the dogs. ‘We’ll see, Hirad. We’ll see.’
The huge dogs ate up the distance. One, a pale silver-grey, was slightly ahead of the other two, one of which was jet black, the other another shimmering shade of grey. The Unknown tapped the tip of his blade on the ground and breathed deep knowing his first strike was vital. With the front animal two paces away, he side-stepped and brought his sword through waist-high and rising, straight into the Destrana’s mouth.
Its neck snapped and its jaws splintered but its momentum brought it crashing into The Unknown’s shoulder. Man and beast fell against the door, the timbers groaned and The Unknown could hear someone kicking at the inside, then angry words.
Winded, the big warrior shovelled the dead animal from his legs and started to rise, but the others were on him so quickly. The grey one locked its jaws on to a shoulder plate, the other plucked at his helmet with a massive paw.
With a roar, The Unknown jabbed forwards one-handed and sliced into the grey’s right hind leg. The limb collapsed but the mouth hung on, teeth crushing the metal plate ever further as hot breath fired into his face.
The unharmed dog clouted The Unknown’s head again and he could feel himself weakening. His helmet was dashed from his skull, strap biting deep as it snapped. He choked and swung his blade in desperation, feeling only hilt and glove contact flesh. Snatching it back again, he felt the metal plate on his shoulder give a little more as the crippled beast shook its head from side to side. Waves of pain washed over The Unknown and the black Destrana howled, sensing victory. The noise cleared his head for a moment and he drove his blade deep into the beast’s throat, its exultation drowning in a fountain of blood.
As the sound died away, the plate gave out and huge jaws closed on flesh and bone. The Unknown screamed in agony and his eyes dimmed. His blade was wrenched from his hand as the dog pulled him on to his back. He whipped his fist into its face time and again but the fangs held firm as his blood flowed into the dirt.
The dog pulled its head back and lashed in a claw. The Unknown’s throat was torn out, and as his strength drained away, his head fell back. With a crack of breaking wood, the barn door opened inwards and a blade flashed across his fading vision. There was the thud of a body beside him.
It was enough.
‘How dare you!’ Erienne flew at the Captain as he entered her room. ‘How dare you!’ He caught her easily by the arms and pushed her back towards the desk chair.
‘Calm yourself, Erienne. Everything is as it was,’ he said.
‘Three days,’ she grated, her eyes ablaze beneath her tangled dirty hair. ‘Three days you’ve denied me. How can you do it to them, never mind me?’
Since their last conversation, the Captain had been true to his word. She had spoken to no one but the guard who brought her food and water. At first it had been easy, her anger at his assumption that she would crumble burning in the pit of her stomach. She had occupied herself quoting lore, revising little-used spells - some of which she would dearly like to cast in the castle - and searching for weaknesses she could exploit to get free of the Captain. But he had her children, he’d threatened quick death for any magic use and she had no doubt he would do exactly as he said.
Unless she could be in a position while she was with them to cast effectively, she couldn’t take the risk. But then there was the future, after he had no further need of her. Would he let them all go? Part of her wanted to believe that he wasn’t a murderer of innocents, that his intellect had a compassionate side, but that part was small. Erienne knew in her heart that he had no intention of letting them leave the castle. He surely knew her sons had great potential power, and that power would scare him. And that left her having to prolong their lives in any way she knew how and hope that he would drop his guard even for a moment to give her the chance she wanted. Until he let the boys out of their room, that chance would never materialise.
As the hours went by, her anger faded, to be replaced by the dread feeling of longing over which she had no control. She stopped being able to concentrate and the lore lessons were forgotten. Her heart pounded painfully in her breast and the tears were regular and prolonged as her happy memories of the boys gave way to nightmare visions of them cold and alone in a dusty room without anyone to protect them.
She knew the answer was simple. To see them was to call the guard and agree to help the Captain. But to help him was abhorrent to her every belief. And not only that. She believed him to be deeply misguided, and to lend assistance would place Balaia in greater danger than it appeared to be in already.