Nightchild

Chapter 18

After the heavy seas of the past seven days, the River Arl was placid by comparison. Coming across the estuary on the rising tide, the Ocean Elm sliced calmly through the water, all sails full on a run with the wind blowing dead north, funnelling along the tree-lined shores. Further north, the trees would give way to rolling hills westwards, and spectacular escarpments eastwards, before open lowlands came to dominate the miles until the Arl opened into the beauty of Lake Arlen.

Ringed from its southernmost point to its north-western arc by trees that climbed part way up stark, snow-capped mountains, it seemed idyllic to anyone sailing towards it, bettered only by the body of water at Triverne. The port town of Arlen occupied the west bank, its deepwater berths home to ocean going vessels, its fishing fleet sheltered in a shallow harbour, and its offshore anchorages served by craft fitted with rope-and-pulley assemblies.

Incoming sailors could see the whole town sweeping up a low rise, culminating in the castle whose white scrubbed stone shone in the morning light, flags from its four turrets snapping in the prevailing breeze. Today, though, the white would be muted. None in Balaia had seen the sun consistently for what seemed like an age, with lowering, rain-bearing cloud washing almost ceaselessly across the sky. The land had cooled dramatically and many species of bird had flown prematurely south, insects had died early or never hatched at all and farming communities were counting the cost of poor crops this harvest and the certainty of hunger next year.

Erienne stood near the prow of the Elm, her mind still a fog from the mana attack, her stamina yet to recover fully and her feelings mixed as they had been ever since she left Lyanna behind on Heren-deneth.

At least she felt she was doing something to try and maintain the safety of her daughter; and she felt an undeniable thrill at the thought of seeing Denser very soon. But ever-increasing had been her longing to hold Lyanna again, to sit in the orchard watching her beautiful child play, or to read her a story from her favourite book. She had found tears on her cheeks every morning, sleep having breached her defences. And, for the last three days, with her mana abilities damaged, she had known another emotion. Fear.

Fear that she would never be able to cast properly again, a threatened isolation that would soon become terrifying and unbearable. And fear of what she would find in Arlen. If Ren'erei was right, the Black Wings were strong again and Selik was still alive. He had been the right-hand man of Travers, and had the same zealous insanity in his eyes. She had only encountered them once but it had been an encounter that had cost the lives of her firstborn twin sons.

She knew now that the ache for them would never pass. Some days it was less, others more, but always there. And it was another reason she had to do what she was doing now. No one was going to take a child from her again.

Erienne let the wind whip at her hair as she stood in heavy cloak and trousers, looking back along the Ocean Elm's length. She felt a little better this morning. Better enough that when Ren'erei walked along the deck towards her, she didn't wish the elf gone.

As she approached, she looked hard at Erienne, trying to gauge her mood. She was wearing her brown and green cloak, laced leather trousers and brown shirt.

'How are you feeling?' Ren'erei asked, coming to lean with her back on the rail, arms folded, half turned to see Erienne's face.

She shrugged. 'Not bad. Less foggy.' She made a scrunching gesture at the sides of her head.

'Is that good?' Ren'erei smiled.

'Yes, it's good. Mostly, I'm just glad we're nearly there. This voyage has seemed very long.'

Ren'erei nodded, her expression becoming sober. 'I can understand your impatience. But we have to be careful in Arlen. Denser's right, you should stay aboard. We'll find him.'

T suppose so.'

'What is it?'

Erienne sighed. She wasn't used to feeling so helpless and it was something that did not aid her shortening temper.

'I'm irritated because I can't contact him and he, presumably can't contact me either. Gods in the sky, Ren'erei, we don't even know if he's there. And now you're having to search the streets and all that'll do is alert them.''

'The Black Wings?'

Erienne nodded, finding herself unable to speak the name. A sudden knot of anxiety twisted her stomach.

'They'll be nowhere near here.'

'No?' snapped Erienne, her anger flaring. 'How can you be so sure? Just ask Tryuun about them. When I was with The Raven we thought we'd destroyed them back before Dawnthief was cast. Gods burning, I swear I saw Selik die by my own hand. Yet you tell me he survived, and Tryuun's face is evidence enough.' She wiped a hand across her face, moving the stray hairs that blew about it. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she stepped forward and covered Ren's hands with her own.

'These men are dangerous. They have mages working for them. I'm just imploring you to be careful. You're a good friend, Ren. Don't go getting careless. My daughter's at stake here.'

Ren'erei nodded. 'I'll never forget that. And I'll mind what you say. We'll find Denser, don't worry.'

Erienne's next words were cut off by a shout from the wheel deck. They turned to see the Captain pointing away to the east bank where the trees were slowly thinning to lowland plains on the approach to the lake's mouth. Ren'erei followed the lookout's arm, staring intently into the trees. Erienne could see nothing. They were over one hundred yards off the bank, right in the centre of the Arl's flow. To Erienne, the shadow under the canopy obscured whatever it was the lookout had seen.

'What is it?' she asked.

'Riders.' Ren'erei continued to stare, unmoving. 'Four of them. Scouts.'

Despite herself and her knowledge of these elves, she had to say it.

'I can't see a thing.'

Ren'erei turned to her, her eyes alive, her face brimming with patience.

'Erienne, they are scouts because they ride horses with both short-sprint speed and long-ride stamina. They wear little armour and carry light weapons. But mostly, they're elves and they know we've seen them.'

'They're looking for us?'

'Who else?' Ren'erei's smile was forced.

'How?' Erienne felt suddenly exasperated, her fleeting good humour gone, her heart rate racing. 'And who? Who knows we're coming?'

T expect we'll find out in Arlen,' replied Ren'erei. The elf looked back across the shore, tracking the riders Erienne couldn't even see.

She felt more helpless than ever and scared for all their lives. Their docking at Arlen was suddenly so much more risky and people, maybe even Black Wings but more likely Dordovans, would be after them. But there was support close by. She wanted Lyanna but Lyanna wasn't near.

Fortunately, The Raven were.

By next morning, with Arlen less than a day's ride away, The Unknown had managed to persuade the Lysternan guard that he posed no threat to Darrick and the two men rode side by side at the head of the column. For once, the wind wasn't blasting across Balaia and there were breaks in the cloud, allowing precious spears of undiluted sunlight to fleetingly caress the ground.

The mood throughout the cavalry was lighter following another drenching night spent huddled under leather and leaf bivouacs. Around them, the gentle undulating moorland that led inexorably down to Lake Arlen's west bank seemed less bleak and The Unknown felt some small relief, though Denser's scowl had not eased.

'Some prisoner you are,' said Darrick, picking up another confused gaze from one of his men.

'I'm sorry you even think of me that way,' replied The Unknown.

Darrick chewed his lip, unable to meet The Unknown's gaze for a moment.

'You have to believe me that it's for your own protection,' said Darrick. 'And I'm sorry too. For the necessity to take your weapons and for keeping Ilkar and Denser under mage guard. None of us like it.'

'Just orders, eh?' Try as he might, The Unknown couldn't work up any anger towards the General. He just had to understand what it was all about.

'I was advised that your reaching Arlen might be precipitate,' said Darrick carefully.

'Gods falling, really?' The Unknown couldn't help but smile. 'What did your adviser think we might do?'

'Get yourselves killed trying to get to Erienne, what else?'

'We aren't known for getting ourselves killed,' said The Unknown. 'And anyway, we expected you to be behind us. Hardly a threat if you're not in town, are you?'

Darrick turned in his saddle, frowning under his helmet. 'Unknown, I would never have ordered my men to fight The Raven. You misunderstand.'

'No, I don't. We're aware there may be a few Dordovans scouting Arlen, trying to pick up the mana trails. We just think we can avoid them.' The Unknown shrugged.

'A few? You've been out of touch too long. There are three hundred-plus there now, and more coming if I understand the Dordovan messaging right.'

The Unknown's heart skipped a beat. 'Three… What are you expecting to happen down there? I mean Erienne's hardly an army, is she?'

'It's not Erienne we're worried about. Or her elven guardians. You know as well as I do that Dordover and Lystern are not the only parties interested in securing the child.'

Even as Darrick was speaking, The Unknown was going cold all over.

'Dear Gods, I should have guessed, shouldn't I?'

T beg your pardon?'

T felt them a couple of days ago. I knew they were close. I can't believe I didn't make the connection.' He looked into Darrick's blank face. 'The Protectors. They're coming to Arlen, aren't they?'

Darrick nodded.

'How many of them?'

'We have to assume all of them,' said Darrick.

'Then they'll slaughter you. Three hundred plus your two hundred? You'll be throwing your life away, Darrick. Even with more

support from wherever. You must see that.' The Unknown's pulse had quickened and he could see in Darrick's eyes that he didn't see at all.

'I've watched them fight. And we aren't Wesmen, Unknown. We have mage support. We can beat them, I'm sure of it.'

'Then you'll be killing my brothers. You understand I'll do everything I can to stop you.'

T have my orders.'

'And I have my loyalties.' At last The Unknown could feel some anger. It was just sad it was in response to a threat against the Protectors.

He found Darrick's confidence both arrogant and ignorant. He had watched the Protectors, maybe, but he didn't understand their minds, their drive and their devotion, the things that made diem so utterly different from mere soldiers. Tactics were great, but people feared Protectors and Darrick's men would be no different. And Xetesk would have sent mage support too, and plenty of it.

This was all getting completely out of hand.

'Why do you think Dordover are so keen to recapture Lyanna?'

Darrick chuckled. 'Come on, Unknown, you don't have to ask me that. She's out of control. Just look around you. Her powers are destroying Balaia. I'm sure it isn't her fault but it does have to be stopped. I take it we're agreed on that point?'

'Yes,' said The Unknown.

'But…'

'But it was Dordover that awakened her. Erienne took Lyanna because they could no longer control her. She's gone to the Al-Drechar.'

'And you call this control?' Darrick waved his free hand about him. 'I've heard the stories and I've seen Greythorne and Thorne-wood. Look, Unknown, I'm really sorry. I have such sympathy for you, all of you. And I know that you think you're doing the right thing. So did I at first but I've seen and consulted too much. Erienne has made a mistake. Lyanna has to be under College control. It's the only way.'

The Unknown was in no doubt about Darrick's belief. The General was not given to frivolity, or to making rash statements.

'Is that what you believe Dordover will exert? Control? They

mean to kill her, Darrick, and you're being used to deliver her to them. They won't murder her in cold blood but they'll see to it she dies. I know you don't want to let that happen.'

'And it won't. Not while I have a breath in my body,' said Darrick.

'Then look out for your own back, too.'

Darrick nodded and looked up at the sky. It was still flecked blue but rain-bearing cloud was again bubbling up from the east. Korina, Balaia's capital, would be suffering another storm already.

The General turned to his second.

'Izack, order slow to walk. We'll dismount in a mile.'

'Yes, sir.' Izack raised a flat palm above his head. 'Walking!' he shouted, the order relayed throughout the column. Darrick's well-drilled cavalry responded immediately.

'You know the Black Wings are in on this too,' said The Unknown as they moved more sedately through the moorland, purple heather blowing in waves across the gentle slopes.

Darrick gave him a sharp glance but then shrugged. T suppose I shouldn't be surprised. One sniff of a magical problem and they'll show up to stir trouble and twist the knife. All the more reason to get Erienne secure.'

'I'm with you there, at least.'

'You know, I hope that after all this has blown over, if you'll pardon the expression, we can still count each other as friends.'

The Unknown felt stung by the comment. 'Not if you deliver Lyanna to those who would see her die; and kill my brothers to do so. Now, if you'll permit, I'd like to return to the friends I do still have.'

Thraun's mind was ablaze and he knew the suspicious eyes of the pack were on him. He could sense their confusion, their fear and their anger, but he had no way to communicate what he felt deep within him. It was hard enough to come to terms with it himself. He first had to hope the pack would trust his judgement and neither turn on him or the man -packbrother.

And so, they travelled quickly across the land, following in the wake of all the men and horses, heading for a broad expanse of water and a

settlement where, he assumed, would be the answers to the questions and an end to the wrong in the air.

He hadn't known whether man-packbrother would follow him but had kept the pack quiet as they had approached his camp. And they had waited downwind until he awoke, with no way to tell him his friends were gone, taken by other men, but anxious to stop him returning to where they had been sleeping because it was the wrong way to travel.

Man-packbrother had spoken to him then, much as he had done again as they travelled, his horse scared as was right, but under control. The pack would have to wait for their feast.

Thraun still had no idea what would happen next. His instinct merely drove him to see man-packbrother safely to the end of the journey. His feelings clashed painfully within him. Men weren't prey, they were threat and he was used to removing threat from the way of the pack. It had always been so. Tet this man-packbrother, like another he knew from a buried sadness, understood like few men did.

Thraun could see this and that was why he led the pack but why he was alone. Different.

Memories flashed in his mind again. Distant and shrouded. Two legs upright… a lessening of speed, power and instinct… scent trails denied him. The memories hurt and he growled to clear his mind. But since the time he had seen man-packbrother and his companions, such clarity was denied him.

Thraun turned his head, checking the pack and the rider behind them. He sniffed the air as he loped on, feeling that time was short.

Following the wolves down the trail of a hundred and more horses, Hirad had felt the release of a tension he hadn't known he harboured. Ilkar, Denser and The Unknown were alive. Ilkar had dropped one of his gloves, assuming Hirad would find it. They were certainly prisoners but alive, and that meant he could find and free them. And Thraun was still with him.

In his mind he knew it didn't all add up but he couldn't shake the notion that Thraun knew what he was doing. And it went without saying, Hirad trusted Thraun's instinct, wolf or human.

After all, Thraun was Raven too.