Demonstorm

Chapter 4

His head fuzzy with the after-effects of too much red wine, Hirad led The Eaven from the college and city of Julatsa with the sun climbing high into a beautiful, clear spring sky.

He had made his peace with Ilkar. His anger at his friend's death was much diminished. It was time to move on and, despite the knowledge of their immediate destination, he wasn't sure where he wanted to move on to.

One thing he felt well able to do, though, was put as much distance between himself and the war as was physically possible. The Raven felt the same way, a feeling shared by many in Julatsa. But not all had their choice. Almost all of the elves were staying on for the time being. The threat from outside, though not as potent, was still present. And with the mage strength that much greater and the Heart beating strong once more, there was much restorative work that could now be done.

Some, though, had to return to Calaius. It was as he had surmised sitting on the steps of the college refectory the night before. Rebraal to gather together the remnants of the Al-Arynaar; and Auum to tackle the enormous task of rebuilding the TaiGethen order. With him went Duele and Evunn, ever his shadows. To complete the odd assortment came the one ClawBound pair to survive Balaia. They yearned for the touch of the rainforest and the calls of their kind. No one invited them to travel south. No one questioned them either. Hirad was just glad to have them nearby.

Their route to Blackthorne and thence to the Bay of Gyernath to await the Calaian Sun was of necessity going to be, initially at least, circuitous. They had decided to travel due east for a day and a half before turning south. Even then, they would have to travel carefully through the forests, what was left of them, and low hills that made

tip the eastern border of the mage lands. Darrick considered that ‹t‹n though the focus of aggression would once again fall on Xi'U'sk, Dordovan patrols would be looking for The Raven, and Erlenne in particular. And they might well be backed by Lysternan forces. Once beyond the mage lands south, they would be able to breathe more easily but that was days away.

Hirad shook his head. The Raven, hunted by those they had fought so long to save. At least ordinary Balaians would still hold them in high regard, those that even knew who they were. He let a smile cross his face. Their fame was countrywide and no doubt embellished in story and verse in places they had never even been. But he wondered how many actually knew what they looked like.

It was a question that would be put to the test later in the day. Darrick knew of a hamlet that they should reach by late afternoon or early evening. A comfortable place to sleep and the chance to buy supplies before ten days in the open was an attractive prospect. They had taken very little from Julatsa. The Gods knew the city was struggling even to feed its own people let alone groups of ex-mercenaries.

With the ClawBound pair of tall, black-and-white-painted elf and sleek black panther ranging ahead and south-east, The Raven felt able to ride in the open, making good time over easy ground. Beside them ran the elven quartet, their regular long strides conserving energy and making the pace for the horses.

The first hours of their journey were peculiar for the almost complete silence in which they were conducted. There was none of the banter Hirad associated with The Raven riding to their next job, running from enemies or returning home from a fight. In every face he saw reflection, and felt a sense of loss himself.

Erienne was deep within herself-as she had been for much of the time after the battle to lift the Heart. The fact of Cleress's continued survival had been a source of great comfort but scared her more than she would admit. The elven Al-Drechar mage was instructing her even now in points of the One magic. It would mean exposing herself to more danger and Denser wasn't sure his wife was ready for it.

Erienne's introspection led Denser to the same state. He barely left her side when she was awake. And Thraun, who could sense so

much more than he could say, also rode close. Hirad had joked that he'd have shared Erienne and Denser's bed if he'd been allowed. No one had laughed.

Darrick, when left alone, descended to an anger he refused to let loose in word or action. But Hirad could see it in his eyes. He felt betrayed by those he had served so faithfully. He had placed the security of his college, city and country above his own for years and they had expressed their gratitude by giving him a death sentence. Hirad knew how he felt.

Only The Unknown carried anything approaching a good mood and the big man was riding by Hirad with a half-smile on his face.

'Not long now, eh, Unknown?'

'I hope not,' said The Unknown. 'You know when we left Heren-deneth and I waved them goodbye, I didn't think I'd see them again. It seems so long ago but so little time has passed.'

'Cleress has told them we're coming?'

The Unknown shook his head. 'No. And not because I want it to be a surprise. It's just that until we're on board ship, I won't let them believe we'll actually make it.' He turned to face Hirad. 'How hard it would be to know something was so close but then have it snatched from you.'

Hirad nodded. 'It's your choice.'

'And what about you, Coldheart? You're quiet. We've learned to worry about that. And this group could do with some more of your ill-chosen comments, I think. Not a great mood, is it?'

'That's because you don't know why, Unknown. You're heading for something. You have a target.' Hirad paused. 'You know how it was when we had retired at Taranspike Castle before Denser and Dawnthief buggered things up? Well, for me it's like that except I have no desire to fight. It's odd. I've got no clear idea what I want to do bar travel with you to Herendeneth but I know it's the right thing to do this time.'

'So it isn't like Taranspike at all, then, is it?'

Hirad chuckled. T don't think I said it right. I mean it's the end of The Raven, isn't it?'

'And you never thought you'd live to see the day.'

'No, Unknown, I always thought I'd live to see the day, I just didn't ever know when the day would be. Funny thing, even when

we were apart for those five years after we closed the noonshade rip, I somehow didn't think that was the end.'

The Unknown smiled. 'And now there's no prospect of anyone wanting us, is there?'

'That's it exactly,' said Hirad. 'I'm just not sure how I should feel.'

'Let me ask you something. Was it the prospect of fame and fortune that kept you fighting?'

'At the start, of course it was. But not lately. Now it's all about being with The Raven and fighting for the people I love, dead or alive.'

'And had you wanted to fade into gentle retirement or did you want to be feted everywhere you went?'

Hirad shrugged. 'A bit of both, if I'm honest. Not much chance of being feted now though, is there?'

'Not here,' agreed The Unknown. 'But on Calaius they respect us for what we did. And elves have longer and better memories than Balaians, it seems.'

'Think I should go and live there?'

'It's a thought. Put it this way. Our time, The Raven's time, is over. We have to face the fact that we're a little creaky, not as fast as we were. More than that, we're unpopular with Balaia's power brokers. But we've never reneged on a contract and we've never been beaten. We've preserved all that we can both here and on Calaius. We've made a difference. No one can take that from us. So I'm saying go and live somewhere you can have peace but keep in touch with your memories. The elves will provide that for you. Besides, I think Herendeneth would bore you rigid. You and Darrick both.'

Hirad laughed. 'Yeah, can't see us tending the gardens till we die.'

'Exactly. You aren't cut out for a quiet life. Something will find you, mark my words.'

'So long as it isn't sharp.'

Dystran's head ached with lack of sleep. That and the sound of EarthHammers destroying every building surrounding the college for forty yards beyond the cobblestones. His familiars, those that were left, were harrying the Wesmen who had no defence against them. But they were so few and could do little more than irritate. They seemed to have lost their capacity to terrify and Tessaya — he had seen the Wesmen Lord prowling the shadows at dawn — had quickly worked out that what could not be killed could at least be caught and trapped. Already the stones and timbers of Xeteskian houses were pinning two of the thralled demons to the ground.

With the sun halfway to noon, Dystran stood on the walls of the college above the gatehouse, having just completed another circuit. Wesmen surrounded his college. Unbelievable. The spells and arrows kept them at a safe distance for now; and the CobaltFury had made them wary, but Tessaya would wait until he deemed them weak enough and attack again.

When the tower had collapsed, tearing holes in the walls, the city defence had quickly folded and terror had gripped the streets. Every soldier and mage had fled back to the college, Wesmen chasing them down. The south gates stood open, under the control of the enemy. The other gates to the city were also in Wesmen hands though they remained closed.

The city populace had nowhere to run. The Wesmen had herded them away from the gates, the spell barrage had kept them from the college and so they cowered in their homes, not knowing whether they would live or die. Dystran knew the answer. The attitude of the Wesmen had changed. The only people Tessaya wanted dead were inside the college.

Dystran turned to the duty officer standing by him.

'Marshal your spell reserves well. When he attacks, I don't want to find all my mages having to rest.'

'My Lord.'

The Lord of the Mount hurried down the steps from the gate tower and across the courtyard to the tower complex. Those he had ordered to provide him with their current situation awaited him in the cavernous banqueting hall. Three men, two exhausted, one in old age, awaiting his pleasure in the chill room. They sat at one end of the high table near a fire hours dead. Light streamed through the dark stained windows but provided precious little in the way of warmth. Dystran's footsteps echoed hollow as he approached them. They stood on seeing him but he waved them down impatiently, taking the steps to the platform two at a time.

'I seem to be holding such meetings with monotonous regularity,' he said. He sat in his chair and laid a hand on the arm of the one adjacent, squeezing its upholstery. Ranyl's absence made the room truly cavernous.

'May I add my condolences to those of the mage community for the passing of Ranyl. He was a great man,' said Chandyr, his head bandaged, an oozing cut on his left cheek.

'And I would consign him to the next life in peace!' Dystran thumped the arm of his chair.

'We will prevail,' assured Chandyr.

'Will we?' Dystran snapped. 'And what leads you to that happy conclusion? Our astonishing defence of our city walls or our ability to demolish our own warehouses and civic offices? Commander Chandyr, we have exchanged one siege for another and I must say that I found the former far more agreeable. More spacious. I fear that our chances for victory lie not in arms but in spells. Prexys, what of our casting strength?'

The old Circle Seven mage scratched his head and allowed a small smile to cross his face. 'As Ranyl would undoubtedly have said, we have had easier times for our stamina reserves and for the security of our dimensional gateway for their replenishment.'

Dystran nodded. 'But he is not here, though your thoughts are welcome. How long do we have before Tessaya knows we are spent enough for him to attack?'

Prexys sighed. 'He is a clever man. He probes close enough to force casting almost continually but he is not losing men at the rate we need. You know how depleted our mage strength is. We can cast at our current expenditure for another day at the most before it becomes apparent we are struggling. And with the dimensional team out of the picture temporarily, we have nothing else to throw at them except our few remaining soldiers.'

'I see.' Dystran sucked his lip and turned to face Sharyr. He and fifteen of the team had made it back to the college. All were resting bar him and he was fit to drop, his face not washed clean of the dust of the walls. 'And why are you out of the picture, Sharyr? I would have thought a day plenty enough to ready yourselves for a decisive casting.'

Sharyr's eyes widened. He shivered. 'You can't ask us to do that

again. You saw what happened. The alignment isn't there. We cannot contain the energy.'

'They are already through the walls, Sharyr,' said Dystran. 'Scatter the power wherever you choose. Destruction of buildings is a small price to pay for all of our lives, surely?'

'With respect, my Lord, you don't understand.'

'I understand that alignment closes with every passing heartbeat. I understand that fifteen rested men can and will cast on my command if it becomes necessary. I understand that there is no price I am not willing to pay for the survival of this college.'

'Even its destruction?' Sharyr raised his voice.

'Well now, Sharyr, if it were destroyed, it would hardly survive, now would it?'

'Damn you, don't patronise me!' shouted Sharyr, shooting to his feet. 'We were not enough before and we are not enough now.'

'You will not-'

'There is residue where the connection with inter-dimensional space was made. Something of the tear remains, I'm sure of it.'

Dystran paused and frowned. 'What are you trying to tell me?'

'That we may have caused permanent damage, my Lord,' said Sharyr, calming a littie and sinking back into his chair. 'And that casting again might cause us serious problems. You see, my Lord, if there is still the residue of a tear, I have no idea how to close it.'

'We had a tear in our skies once before, as you will recall. It could have led to an invasion of dragons. Please tell me this is different.'

'Oh, quite different, my Lord,' said Sharyr. 'There is no hint of a link to any other dimension at this stage. I'm just currently at a loss how to deal with it.'

'Then I suggest that you rest now, Sharyr. And when you are rested, see that you investigate what you have left in my sky. I will have my spell ready, with you or without you. Because when I pay my last respects to my dear friend Ranyl tomorrow night, I will have peace and not a horde of Wesmen vermin battering at my door.' Dystran smiled thinly and saw the fear in Sharyr's eyes. T trust I make myself clear.'

The village of Cuff was a setdement of probably fifty houses and farms nestled in a shallow and sheltered, tree-lined valley. Grazing

animals ranged free up and down its length, crops were sprouting through fertile earth. To look at Cuff, it was clear the Nightchild storms had hardly touched it. The scene before them was at odds with much of the rest of Balaia given war and so many displaced people.

While farmers worked their land and the odd fisherman netted the free-flowing river on which the village stood, others on horseback patrolled its borders and guarded the crests of the valley east and west. Two rough watchtowers had been built, visible at either end of the village, looking out north and south along its single track.

The Raven approached at an easy trot, the elves running beside them in the late afternoon sun. The ClawBound had disappeared. Hirad's guess was they were already downwind of all the livestock and horses. In the trees to the south, hunting.

'Times are hard and people are desperate,' said The Unknown. 'We'd be the same. Let's tread carefully, Raven.'

'What do you think about the guards? Mercenary or local?' asked Hirad.

'Soldiers,' said Rebraal. 'Well armed. Used to armour.'

'We probably know them,' said Hirad.

'That's not necessarily a good thing,' said The Unknown. 'Let's be prepared. Just don't look like you are.'

There was a price on The Raven's capture and return to Lystern or Dordover. Probably a very high price at that.

'I'll keep my hand just far enough from my sword to be of no use if there's trouble,' said Hirad.

'You know what I mean.'

Hirad smiled. He glanced meaningfully at the TaiGethen moving fluidly by him. Even without their faces painted, he found it hard to imagine them anything less than fully prepared. Readiness oozed from every pore.

They watched the mercenaries gather at the head of the village to meet them. It wasn't an overtly threatening gesture but a statement of intent nonetheless.

'There are seven. Four swordsmen split two and two on horses. Three behind. Two mages, one archer,' said Rebraal.

'Hirad, watch the right-hand side. Rebraal, Auum, look for others

joining. I'll watch left. Thraun, back me up, Darrick to Hirad. Denser, prepare HardShield, Erienne, SpellShield.'

The Unknown's words calmed them to focus. No one moved a muscle in response. No hand strayed towards a weapon yet they all had their targets. It was enough.

At twenty yards distance, a strong voice sounded out at them. In the fields and on the river, all action had ceased.

'Dismount and walk, strangers.'

A moment's hesitation.

'As he says,' said The Unknown. The Raven dismounted. His voice lowered to a mutter. 'Mark the far left, hand to his sword. Archer is loaded and tensed. No reaction, Raven. These are not our enemies. Yet.'

They slowed, the elves falling naturally into narrow order with them, sensing the threat they might otherwise pose. The Unknown brought them to a halt five yards from the first mercenary, who they took to be the leader.

'What would you have us do?' asked The Unknown.

'State your business.'

'Rooming and food for the night. Stabling for our horses and supplies for the journey in the morning. We have coin for all we need.'

The man in front looked them over slowly, appraising. He lingered over the elves. Hirad took the opportunity to weigh up the mercenaries. They appeared capable enough. Confident, at ease. Hirad raised his eyebrows. One of the mages was an elf. Echoes of the past.

'Food is short, costs are high,' said the mercenary leader. He was a large man, carrying a two-handed sword across his back.

The Unknown shrugged. 'We can cover your costs.'

The leader nodded. 'We'll see. Enter. Find rooms where you can though I would suggest Ferran's barns and house over there is your best bet. You'll pay in advance for everything. We don't appreciate late-night chases, if you understand me.'

'Perfectly,' said The Unknown. He relaxed his face. 'We're no threat to you. We are just passing.'

'See it stays that way. One more thing. You will not unsheathe swords in this village. We are a peaceful community.'

'But it hasn't always been that way, I take it?'

The leader shook his head, indicating his men move aside to let them through before he replied.

'A lot of refugees have passed this way from the mage lands, and before them we had them from as far east as Korina and as far south as Arlen.' He paused. 'Not all of them would take "no" for an answer. That's why we're here now.'

The Raven led their horses into the village, angling for the indicated farm on its eastern edge. The elves followed them, their suspicion plain.

'What do you make of it?' asked Hirad.

'Well, they aren't faces I recognise,' said The Unknown. 'And they clearly don't know us, which is a blessing. I think we shouldn't get involved.'

'I don't know,' said Hirad. 'I don't like the set-up. Think about it. Mercenary teams are being paid very good money to fight for the colleges or side with baronial defence. This lot? How can they possibly earn enough from a place this size to make it worthwhile?'

'Ask the farmer, why don't you?' said Denser.

'I will. Let's get sorted out first though.'

There was precious little space but it served them well enough. Denser and Erienne had the one empty room in the farmhouse. Ferran spread it with straw and blankets. The rest of them were given shelter in the two barns, one for grain storage, the other part stables, part hayloft. It was serviceable though the price was ruinous.

The Raven plus Rebraal gathered around Ferran's prodigious kitchen table once the horses were unsaddled and Auum and his Tai had taken their leave. Not all of them had seats but there were enough places to rest and enjoy the thick vegetable stew and tough rye bread served by Ferran's daughter, a girl barely into her teenage years but with eyes that had already seen a long hard life.

Ferran was a humourless middle-aged man. His hands were cal-lused and split from many years working hard cold earth. His chest was a barrel and his eyes were deep set in a weathered face.

'Long journey, is it?' he ventured of his guests.

'Long enough,' conceded Darrick. The ex-General still managed to look neat despite their time on the road, his young face already clean of grime and his brown curls shaken free of dust.

Ferran nodded, apparently gleaning everything he needed from the General's brace of words. 'Well, it'll be a comfortable night. No trouble.' His eyes glinted. 'We're protected.'

'So we see,' said Hirad. He leaned forwards, arms resting on the table, hands clasped together in front of his bowl. 'Treat you well do they?'

'I'm begging your pardon?'

'You've bought their services,' Hirad explained. 'Are you getting what you expect?'

Ferran thought on the question, aware all eyes were upon him.

'They keep us alive,' he said. 'We'd been raided. Three times. They offered us protection for a consideration.'

'Which is?' asked The Unknown.

'Well now that's a deal between-'

'Which is?'

Recognise him or not, no one refused The Unknown Warrior.

'They keep us alive,' he repeated. 'And safe. We carry on, they take the rest. It's right.'

'They take all your profit?' Denser blew out his cheeks. 'There's your answer, barbarian.'

Ferran nodded.

'And no doubt food and lodging is part of the deal,' said Hirad. 'This is some easy deal.'

'It goes without saying.' -

'But the war is as good as over,' said Hirad. 'When were you last threatened or attacked?'

'They say there is still danger,' said Ferran. 'They keep us alive,' That sparkle was in his eyes again. 'And you don't question the best.'

'And that's what they are, is it?' Hirad couldn't help but smile.

'Well yes,' said Ferran. He looked at them all, imploring them to understand. 'Don't you recognise them?'

'Should we?'

'Of course.' He stood tall. 'They are The Raven.'

'Oh,' said Hirad, feeling his skin crawl. 'Are they indeed?'

Chapter 5

'Hirad, sit down,' barked The Unknown Warrior. 'Let's decide how to deal with this.'

'I'll tell you how we deal with it,' said Hirad. 'We go outside, call them out and take them down.'

'Calm down, Hirad,' said Darrick. 'We can't just run out, swords waving. It's an unnecessary risk.'

'It might not mean much to you, General, but these bastards are trading on our name to bleed this village dry. I will not see our reputation ruined by bandits.'

Hirad's head was thumping, his body tense with the frustration boiling within him. Outside, people who believed in The Raven were being taken for everything they had when, more than ever, they needed every scrap of fortune they could lay their hands on. Perhaps their fortune was about to change. But what really made Hirad seethe was the bad taste that would be left in the mouths of these people whenever The Raven was mentioned again.

'We can't just walk out there and kill them,' said Denser.

'Why not?' Hirad jabbed a finger at Ferran. The farmer and his daughter had frozen at the exchange, their mouths slack and eyes widening. Their disbelief at what they were witnessing grew with every heartbeat. 'These people have been made to think that it's right that The Raven should take from them anything they want because of who they are. That's never been our way. It's a betrayal of all that we stand for. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.'

'We were mercenaries too,' said Denser.

'Yeah, and we were paid a fair price to fight. A good price because we were the best. People who hired us understood the rules. But this. . this is robbery and I'm not having it.'

He moved towards the door.

'Hirad, where do you tliink you're going?'

'I'm going to demonstrate who The Raven really are. Back me up, why don't you?'

T know the hurt you feel,' said The Unknown. 'I feel it too. We all do. But we do things a certain way. That, as you are so fond of telling us, is why we're still alive. And now it's your turn to play by the rules. Sit down and listen. Whatever we do, we do as The Raven.'

The Unknown didn't have to raise his voice to command complete authority. Hirad paused, nodded and returned to his seat.

They did not emerge until dusk. The last vestiges of the day's light clung to the tops of the valley but the village was cast largely in shadow. The Raven had talked while the afternoon waned, not letting Ferran light lanterns or a fire in his kitchen. They had seen the impostors patrolling the streets, still on horseback. And from the rear windows of the house had watched them trot past regularly. While not exactly prisoners, it was clear The Raven were not to be given licence to roam Cuff at will.

The leader had visited them once, to check they were settled in and to ask after the whereabouts of the elves. The Unknown had simply shrugged and intimated they had continued on southwards. Without evidence to the contrary, the man had withdrawn.

Ferran had confirmed that there were indeed seven of them, the number popularly associated with The Raven. Hirad wasn't sure they had convinced him that they were the genuine article. What he did know was that the moment they left the house, Ferran was running for his neighbours to set the rumour spreading, his daughter heading in the opposite direction. They were fulfilling expectations perfectly.

The Unknown led them, Hirad to his right, Darrick and Thraun left. Erienne and Denser were behind them. The track through the village was quiet but the four men who had been paying particular attention to the farmhouse now rode in from front and back, intercepting them as they reached the street. Thraun dropped back to cover any threat from the rear.

Neither pair of riders had any presence. They were uncertain, nervous and looking to each other to make the first move. The Raven made it for them.

'Better call your leader down here,' said The Unknown. 'You've got a problem.'

The Raven had weapons sheathed but both Erienne and Denser were ready with shield spells should the need arise. In front of them, a heavy-set man with both hands on the pommel of his saddle spoke.

'He'll be along presently, I have no doubt. Now, what is this problem we have?'

'You all need to hear what we have to say. All seven,' said The Unknown.

Hirad smiled unpleasantly. 'Yeah, six men and an elf. You're a little behind the times.'

'Listen, you don't need to test yourselves against us,' said the heavy-set man, frowning in Hirad's direction. 'It isn't worth your while and we have no wish to spill your blood.'

'Well, that's comforting,' muttered Denser.

The second pair of riders rode around to the front of the standoff. Hirad could hear more hoof beats coming up the village. To his left, a door opened and a man ran across the street, not pausing to knock on the door of the house opposite before barging in.

'Which one are you, then?' asked Hirad of the heavy-set man.

T am Hirad Coldheart,' he said without hesitation.

'I'd heard he was better-looking,' replied Hirad, no humour in his voice.

'Stop it, now,' said The Unknown, turning to him.

The remaining impostors rode up along the street, doors opening with regularity behind them now. The archer unslung his bow as soon as he reined in, the leader trotting calmly to the front of the group.

Looking at him again, Hirad could see immediately who he had modelled himself upon. In fact, he was surprised he hadn't already noticed, the likeness was that obvious. He supposed he just hadn't been looking. Shaven-headed, broad-shouldered and strong-faced. The two-handed blade on his back was something else that should have pricked his memories.

'Don't fancy yours much, either,' he said.

The Unknown glared at him.

'What is it I can do for you?' asked his double in a passable impersonation.

'Several things,' said The Unknown. He glanced around him, looked past the impostors and along the street. 'Seems we've drawn quite a crowd. Good. Here begins the lesson.'

'Get back to the farmhouse,' said the leader.

'Be quiet,' said The Unknown. 'And listen. It might just save you.'

The sounds of swords being pulled from scabbards echoed across the instant's silence. The Raven followed suit instantly, forming up into their trademark chevron.

'Shield up,' said Denser and Erienne together.

'I suggest you lower those weapons,' said the bandit leader, the only man among them whose sword was not drawn. 'You will prove nothing by taking us on.'

'On the contrary,' said The Unknown. 'We will prove what we must.'

'Which is what? That you can beat The Raven?'

'No, my apparently blind double. That we are The Raven.'

A ripple ran around the villagers close enough to hear and spread quickly to those who could not. The crowd, now more than forty, bunched and moved forward a pace. But the men, women and children still kept a respectful distance.

Hirad watched the impostors stare at them, trying to gauge if The Unknown could be telling the truth.

'Look hard,' growled Hirad. 'Believe.'

The leader snorted, straightened in his saddle. 'Look at you,' he said. 'Just six. One a woman. No elf. And you,' he pointed at The Unknown Warrior. 'A little old aren't you? And if you had heard the stories, you would have a two-handed blade. A pale imitation. It's been fun. Now it's time you left before we run you down.'

'But that's the trouble with stories, isn't it?' said The Unknown, his face a mask, while Hirad felt his own burning with renewed anger. 'They don't take account of the passage of time. We have not fought in line for six years and in the troubles that have followed, even we have lost friends.'

'There is no elf because Ilkar is dead,' said Hirad, staring down the elven mage. 'No one lives on his name. No one.'

'All right, Hirad,' said The Unknown. 'So you see the problem we have. We cannot let you simply walk away. You have taken our name

and used it for profit. And that is not the worst of it. You have betrayed what The Raven stand for and believe in. We were mercenaries, not parasites.'

'And you expect these people to believe that you, not we, are The Raven?'

'I don't much care who they think we are,' said The Unknown. 'All they need to know is that you are not The Raven.'

His voice was pitched to carry to the villagers. Hirad heard the mutterings of conversation. The impostors' heads all turned, their anxiety rising.

'You surely don't believe them, do you?' demanded the leader.

Unexpectedly, Ferran stepped from the small crowd.

'We pay you to keep our village free of undesirables,' he said. 'If they are such, do your jobs. Get rid of them.'

His words were greeted with assent from those around him.

Hirad grinned. 'Yeah, Hirad,' he said. 'Take me on. Run me out of the village.' He spat on the ground in front of him, enjoying the tension that grew in the space between them.

'I'll tell you what's going to happen,' said The Unknown. 'You're going to give back every coin you have taken from this village. You'll also leave them your horses because you are walking away from here. Your return will be to your graves.'

'Not a chance,' said the leader, tone dismissive but fear edging into his expression. He was eyeing The Unknown ever more closely, the doubt eating at him.

'Your alternative,' said The Unknown, 'is not to leave here at all. Mind you, since you're The Raven, that threat won't impress you much, will it?'

Hirad saw the band wavering. He knew why. In front of them was unshakeable belief born of fifteen years of winning. The Raven, standing quite still, did not and would not flinch. Their adversaries, even with the advantage of being mounted, were losing the battle of wills. It was what separated The Raven from everybody else. Always had.

'There is only one Raven, and you aren't it,' said Hirad.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The Unknown's blade struck the ground in front of him.

'No time to debate,' he said. 'Get off your horses now.'

'Boss?'

There it was, the firstvocal crack in the facade. The impostors' leader scowled. Then he swallowed and looked back at The Unknown, hesitant.

'You're out of time,' said The Unknown. 'Dismount.'

Tap. Tap. Tap.

'Go,' snapped the leader.

He kicked the flanks of his horse. Startled, the animal sprang forward. The Unknown reacted instantly, diving forward and left. Hirad mirrored him right, both men rolling to their haunches. The Unknown was confronted by a wall of horseflesh on the move. Two others had followed their boss and were right on top of Thraun and Darrick. Hirad surged to his feet and grabbed at the arm of the mounted man in front of him. He pulled hard.

'Mage casting,' warned Darrick.

'Shield down,' said Denser. And in the next instant, 'Got him.'

Men tugged hard on reins, horses reared and whinnied, dust was kicked into the air. Swords flashed in the dying light. Thraun roared. Metal clashed. A single arrow flew. There was a shout of pain.

Hirad kept on pulling, unsaddling the man. His horse turned sharply, its head butting Hirad, sending him stumbling. The man scrambled to his feet to face his smiling double.

'So, Hirad,' he said, beckoning him on. 'Let's see if you measure up to the real thing.'

The man lunged forwards, thrusting to Hirad's open side. The barbarian switched his blade between his hands, blocked the attack aside and drove an uppercut into his enemy's exposed chest.

'Didn't think so.'

Hirad left him to bleed to death and turned back to The Raven, slapping the riderless horse away. From the back of the group, the elf had detached and was spurring his horse towards the gathered villagers.

'Oh no you don't,' breathed Hirad and set off after him.

The mage cast, his ForceCone meeting Erienne's implacable shield. Denser's focused Orb drove him from his horse to die screaming in flame on the dry earth. Thraun and Darrick had stopped the fledgling charge of two of the group, and, like The

Unknown, had hands on reins or bridles, keeping themselves out of strike range in front of their enemies' horses.

The last rider broke and galloped away to the north of the village and open ground, abandoning his comrades to their fates. The Unknown beckoned the leader down and waited while he drew his sword. Beside him, Darrick and Thraun killed effordessly.

'Are you who you say you are?' asked the leader.

The Unknown nodded, his sword tapping again. 'At least you will have faced me.'

The leader brought his sword to ready. The Unknown ceased his tapping, made nonsense of his double's ponderous defence and skewered his heart. 'But not for long.'

Hirad sprinted through the crowd and after the elf. 'Get back here, you bastard. Face me! Face Ilkar!'

He would never catch him but he ran on anyway, hoping for a slip, anything. A shadow moved against the buildings at the end of the village and leapt unerringly. The riderless horse galloped on a little way before losing momentum. On the ground behind it, Hirad saw Auum's single thrust. He stopped running, smiled and walked back to The Raven.

'What about the other one?' asked Hirad.

'Leaving one to tell the tale can't hurt.'

He stooped and cleaned his blade on an impostor's clothing, sheathing it and walking towards the villagers. Hirad glanced around. So easy. So effortless.

'Not much of a security force, I wouldn't have thought,' he said to Darrick.

The General, one hand pressed against his opposite shoulder, tried to smile.

'No. Can you help me with this?'

He lifted his hand. The arrow had struck him just under the collarbone. Darrick had snapped off the shaft to leave a couple of inches remaining.

'That was careless,' said Hirad.

'Denser let his shield down,' said Darrick. 'No blame intended.'

'Indeed I did,' said Denser, coming to his side. 'The least I can do is sort you out. Hirad, why don't you talk to our new friends or something?'

Hirad shrugged and wandered off after The Unknown. Some of the villagers were walking into the combat area, staring dumbly at the bodies and blood.

'Looks like you've got yourselves some new horses anyway,' said Hirad. 'Hope you don't mind clearing up. Think of it as payment.'

He saw the odd nod and smile but there was wariness amongst the villagers.

'Hey,' he said. 'You didn't need them. And they weren't who they said they were. They deserved it. They were damaging the reputations of friends I have lost.'

The Unknown was standing with Ferran. The farmer was frowning.

'And what will you do now, take their place?'

The Unknown shook his head, smiling. 'We'll move on in the morning, like we said.'

'Are you The Raven?'

'Does it matter?'

'We have tales to tell,' said Ferran.

'Fair enough.' The Unknown looked across at Hirad, who shrugged. 'Yes, we are The Raven. Very different from the tales you've been told, I expect. We're tired, we're wanted by both sides in the war and all we want to do is leave Balaia and hang up our swords.'

'Leave?' Ferran's eyebrows raised.

'We've done all we can,' said Hirad. 'And there are too many out there who will thank us by having us locked up or executed. Draw your own conclusions.'

Around them, the crowd stood mute. Not quite believing what they were seeing, what they had heard, or what they were hearing right now. Hirad couldn't help but chuckle.

'None too impressive-looking, are we?' he said. There was a little laughter in the crowd. On an impulse, he continued. 'But we couldn't let them go. We couldn't. So many of those they were mimicking are dead friends. And I will not stand by while their memories are sullied by this sort of filth, and while the deeds of those with us now are ignored.' He gestured at the corpses. One, his double, still breathed. Hirad hoped he was being heard. He continued.

'We lost Ras at Taranspike Castle, Sirendor Larn was poisoned by a Xeteskian assassin and Richmond died in Black Wings' castle. All more than six years ago now but they are the names you have been told, are they not?'

There was a murmur in the crowd. Heads were inclined. They hung on his every word.

'Yet there were so many more. Jandyr, who died on the fields of Parve; poor Will Begman, terrified from his life by the touch of a demon. Aeb, the Protector who sacrificed his soul to The Raven. And Ilkar. Ilkar who even in the act of his death, saved the rest of us. That is what The Raven is. That is who we are and what those of us who remain represent.' He indicated them one by one. 'Erienne; Denser; Thraun; Darrick; The Unknown Warrior. And me, Hirad Coldheart, lucky enough to have stood with them all.'

He stopped, aware that he was welling up and that his voice was in danger of breaking.

'So,' he said and clapped his hands together, smiling as he swallowed at the lump in his throat. 'Do you have ale and wine here?'

'That we do,' came a voice from die crowd.

'Good. Then anyone who wishes, join me in raising a tankard to The Raven, all of us. I'm buying.'

The Unknown turned to Ferran as the crowd broke into excited conversation and set off as one to the tavern. 'Is that a good enough tale for you to tell?'

Ferran nodded. 'His heart speaks, doesn't it?'

'Always,' said The Unknown. 'Hey, Coldheart, get over here.'

Hirad strode towards him and found himself enveloped in The Unknown's arms.

'Well said, Hirad. Well said.'