Ravensoul

Chapter 24

The awful truth about the fate of Julatsa had dampened hope three days before. The fleet had been sailing out of sight of the north Balaian coast and there had been no encounters nor indeed any sightings whatever of the Garonin. The ships were scattered over a wide area, attempting to diminish the density of souls for the enemy to sense. There had been an uneasy quiet across the whole fleet. It felt like the absence of belief.

And now, approaching Wesman territory at North Bay, with the hard grey peaks of Sunara’s Teeth dominating the near horizon, trepidation reigned. Mage reconnaissance had revealed no evidence of Garonin activity but neither had it revealed any sign of the Wesmen.

Rebraal was not unduly concerned by that. This desolate, dangerous coast had been largely abandoned since the storms of the Night Child had swept away the bay’s lonely fishing village over fifteen years ago. They were a superstitious race, the Wesmen, and Sunara’s Teeth were cursed.

‘I’ll drop anchor half a mile from the shore,’ said Jevin. ‘Well before we get snagged in the currents close in.’

He and Rebraal were standing in the prow of the Calaian Sun, staring at the coastline and searching for any sign, good or bad.

‘Let’s hope your plan works. I feel nervous at the thought of three hundred ships crowding in here, even in rotation.’

‘We’ve had plenty of time to plan,’ said Jevin. ‘Weather conditions and tides are both in our favour to begin right now. Have faith.’

‘It’s still going to take three days to disembark. We’re exposed the whole of that time.’

‘I do not rule the tides. It’s the best I can do.’

‘Forgive me. I’m not being critical. I’m just… well.’

Jevin nodded and slapped Rebraal on his back.

‘So are we all, Rebraal.’

‘Indeed.’

Rebraal looked back to the beach and wished it four miles long rather than the four hundred yards afforded them. North Bay was a funnel trap for the unwary sailor, an invitingly broad shelter that narrowed quickly into rock-strewn shallows around which the water eddied and surged, denying escape for ocean-going vessels that strayed too close to the shore. Multiple wrecks beneath the waves only added to the risks.

Three TaiGethen cells had already landed to scout the immediate area and secure the path away from the beach. One cell waited on the beach. The other two would be looking for shelter and cover. They would not find a great deal of either outside the lee of the mountains.

The Calaian Sun was leading the first twenty ships into the landing area. The decks were crowded with evacuees, who had now been joined by all of the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar warriors. Half their mages too. It had been a risky transfer. Jevin kept a tight grip on the ship’s progress from his forward position. Topsails hung from two masts, giving a speed of little more than one knot. Periodically, Jevin would hold out his right or left arm to direct the helm to starboard or port. He would also display a number of fingers to indicate the degree of turn he desired.

The flagship of the elven exodus slipped into the wind shadow of Sunara’s Teeth, which ringed the entire bay and glowered down on all who sailed within their compass. Immediately, the topsails flapped. Here the eddies in the water and the currents that drove them played havoc with the handling of the vessel.

Jevin held up two fists to signal steady as she goes. Any desultory conversation died in throats. People lined the rails, staring down, looking for disaster to loom up at them. Plumb lines in the water spoke their depth. The beach crawled closer.

‘That’ll do, I think.’ Jevin began striding back towards the wheel deck. ‘Helm, bring her up into the wind. Bosun, make our masts naked. Stand by, anchor. On my order. Signals, fly the all stop. This is as far in as we dare go. Oars, ready the boats. Rebraal, get your people organised. I want out of this bay in two hours or I’ll not get another squadron in before the tide moves against us.’

Rebraal nodded. The ship had exploded into activity. Al-Arynaar and TaiGethen assembled by their boats. Refugees were herded this way and that as crew set about their tasks. Blocks and tackles were set up to winch out cargo. Nets were filled with crates and barrels.

In the hold of the Calaian Sun was the statue of Yniss that bound the elves to life on Balaia. He would not be coming ashore. When Jevin’s work with the refugees was done the captain was to perform one last task. To scuttle his ship and send the statue to the bottom of the ocean, far from the destructive hands of the Garonin. Jevin had expressed his intent to see Yniss all the way down.

‘Anchor away,’ called Jevin to an accompanying rattle of chain.

Rebraal checked his armour and weapons. He stood before his warriors and the TaiGethen. To their left another ship had dropped anchor about fifty yards away. ClawBound crowded the deck. Panthers growled. Bound elves sniffed the air.

‘They, like us, desire the ground beneath their feet,’ he said. ‘My brothers and sisters, now we reach the most dangerous part of our flight. The lands of the Wesmen are open. Our souls are a beacon for the Garonin, bound as they are with the mana that suffuses each one of us.

‘Yet we must not rush. Our people depend upon us. They must be supported at every point. Our camps must be sound and our direction clear. We must neither pause nor falter. You all have your tasks. Contact with the Wesmen at the earliest opportunity is vital. Warning of attack equally so.

‘My friends, we hold in our hands the fate of the elven race. Yniss cannot help us. We must help ourselves. To your boats.’

Four longboats were lowered to the sea. Elves swarmed down rope and net. Cargo followed for forward and aft stowage. Oars were readied. Rebraal felt Jevin come to his side.

‘Good luck out there,’ said the captain.

‘Yniss blesses you, Master Jevin,’ said Rebraal. ‘Your path to the ancients is assured.’

‘Only if you succeed.’

Rebraal turned to find Jevin smiling at him.

‘And we will.’

‘See that you do,’ said Jevin. ‘I might have had the wander in me as a sailor but I like to think my soul will find eternal rest. No pressure.’

Rebraal and Jevin clasped arms. ‘You should wander the northern oceans a little. How many are coming with you?’

‘Twenty assuming no others change their minds. And we intend to. Who knows what sights there are to see?’

Rebraal climbed down into his longboat, and when he looked back to the ship’s rail Jevin had already turned away. He could hear the captain barking orders. The longboat pulled smoothly from the ship and sped into the shore at North Bay. Up in the sky, the cloud was heavy and grey. Rain was coming, perhaps a storm. Rebraal, his heart a little heavy, looked forward. There was no sense in looking anywhere else.

‘You cannot let them kill my son,’ said Diera. ‘Please. You have to do something.’

‘He is no immediate danger. None of them are,’ said Auum. He turned to Miirt. ‘Get our prisoner back here now. I don’t care how bad he smells.’

‘No danger? You’ve just told me your panther has seen them and that they are plainly trapped. You told me that Densyr knows exactly where they are. How does this represent no danger?’

‘I think it is a relative term,’ said Baron Gresse. He was lying flat out on the grass, his leg surely agony yet he retained a morbid cheer.

‘In any event it appears action is imminent, and if that means damage to the wielders of magic, I count myself satisfied.’

‘Bloody right it’s a relative term,’ said Diera. ‘We’re talking about my family.’

Auum stared at her for a moment. He was unsure what he saw and felt a frisson of nerves.

‘Were you joking?’ he asked.

‘Kind of,’ she said. ‘It’s what I’d call executioner’s humour. At least it got your attention. What are you going to do about my husband and son?’

‘We have another problem,’ said Auum.

‘That isn’t an answer. What of it?’

Auum paused again, gauging her mood and likely responses to what he wanted to tell her.

‘The two are connected,’ said Auum carefully.

Down on the ground Gresse was chuckling away to himself. And patting the ankle of Blackthorne, who was standing by him and failing to get him to be quiet.

‘Are you drunk or something?’ asked Blackthorne. ‘We are in serious trouble here, Gresse. Laughter isn’t the answer. Not this time.’

‘Oh but it is, my dear Baron Blackthorne. Besides, whichever way this goes, I am soon to die. And is not the confusion of a male over a female always the most magnificent thing to watch. Even the great Auum squirms.’

‘I am not trying to confuse him, Baron Gresse,’ said Diera.

‘You never do, my dear, you never do.’

‘Patronising bastard,’ she said. ‘Go on, Auum, unless you’re too nervous to speak to me. What are we going to do? My family are in trouble and I will not stand by and wait for them to die. Do you understand me?’

‘We are all in similar trouble,’ said Auum.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘We have information that makes staying here impossible. It also makes leaving here extremely difficult.’

Auum felt the pressure of a dozen pairs of eyes on him. The two barons and their small retinues, Diera of course, and also Thraun, who had remained in earshot. Of his eight wolves, four were by him. Of the others, there was no sign. Auum feared for them.

‘Difficult how, exactly?’ asked Gresse.

Auum respected the old baron though their paths had barely crossed. Anyone who had survived the demon invasion, remaining free the whole time, was clearly worthy.

‘The ward grid, when it is activated, will not exclude human or elf. Neither will it exclude wolves and panthers.’

‘But we’re right in the middle of it, aren’t we?’ said Diera.

Auum nodded. ‘There are spells covering much of this area.’

‘We’re camping in a trap,’ said Blackthorne.

‘Well, there’s one way out of it,’ said Gresse, and he gestured at the rooftops. ‘Those who can’t fly will just have to climb and jump, won’t they?’

Auum nodded again and Gresse smiled at him, understanding very clearly what it meant.

‘There is one other possibility,’ said Auum.

‘Well there needs to be. Certain among our party of young rebels are not merely old and riddled with cancer, they also can’t walk.’ Blackthorne was glaring at Gresse. ‘I told you to stay behind.’

‘Right. To bring down the system from within. Not really my style, Blackthorne. Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep the place warm for you.’

‘I think when the God’s Eyes start firing you’ll find it warm enough,’ said Blackthorne. ‘Stupid old man. I bet you thought this might happen. I’m not leaving you.’

Gresse stuck two fingers in his mouth and made a retching sound.

‘Spare me the bleeding hero stuff, Blackthorne. I’m sure I can make myself a nuisance.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with that. I have hauled your wretched carcass from your own vineyards. You owe me.’

Gresse laughed out loud and clapped his hands. ‘Good for you.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not finding this at all funny,’ said Diera.

‘When you get to our age, Diera, you are forced to see the funny side of most things.’

‘Well, right now, getting to your age seems a distant prospect, doesn’t it? And what about my son? He’s five years old. He deserves the concentrated effort of every one of us, don’t you think?’

Gresse reached out a hand, which Diera, a little reluctantly, took in both of hers.

‘Yes, he does, my lady,’ he said quietly. ‘And he shall get it. I’m sorry if I offended you.’

Diera shook her head. ‘No, it’s not that. It’s just, you know.. all of you. You’re used to this. You’ve grown up with fighting and death and blood. I married someone who has too, but I’ve seen so little because he won’t let me see it. So I’m scared. And I’m terrified for my boys. Auum, please?’

For a third time, Auum nodded.

‘Miirt. Bring him.’

The mage was brought forward. Dressed in breeches and shirt both several sizes too big, he cut a ridiculous figure. He was deathly pale and the sight of the wolves caused him to jam his feet into the soft grass. Miirt’s hand in the small of his back kept him moving.

‘Name?’ asked Auum.

‘Brynar,’ said the mage. Young and scared. Good. And there was more.

‘You are apprentice to Densyr, aren’t you?’

‘And you are Auum.’

‘Neither of us wishes to die this night. Help us and we will not cause you harm. You know where you are?’

‘Hespyrin Square.’

‘Then you know that when the ward grid is activated, we are in a poor position.’

‘We’ll all die,’ said Brynar. ‘There are thirty wards in these gardens alone. And they will trigger the collapse of every building on the four sides.’

‘So, we are in agreement,’ said Auum. ‘I need options. Did Septern plan safe routes through the grid?’

Brynar shook his head. ‘The Garonin would probably divine them. Too risky. It’s complete blanket coverage.’

‘Second. When will the grid be activated?”

‘When all the mages return to the college, as I said. But not necessarily at that instant. Don’t get your hopes up, though. Any of us over an hour late will be assumed lost, probably to you as it happens, and therefore the grid will not be delayed.’

‘And how late are you, young man?’ asked Blackthorne.

‘I am well beyond my time already. I was late when I met Auum.’ Brynar shuddered.

The howl of a wolf sounded to the east. It was picked up by those in the park and joined by the granite growl of the ClawBound panther. Thraun calmed his pack as best he could but the four were on their feet, pacing and sounding anxiety deep in their chests.

Auum was still for a moment. He sniffed the air. Tension and magic, which was no surprise. But the agitation of the wolves and the guttural tone of the panther’s call were not to be ignored.

‘Thraun?’ he asked.

‘They’ve heard something. I don’t know what. I can’t sense anything.’

‘Well, let’s not hang about,’ said Blackthorne, and then he raised his voice. ‘Everyone. Prepare to leave. Gresse, you are going on a stretcher and I will drag you up the sides of buildings as and when I have to… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What did you say?’

‘I said, you are a stubborn old goat and you have the beard to prove it.’

‘Ungrateful wretch.’

Auum shook his head and turned back to Brynar. The young mage stared all around him, blinking and swallowing hard.

‘It is real,’ said Auum.

The wolves howled again, their voices rising quickly to a whine high in the throat. All four gathered in front of Thraun, staring up at him and backing towards the west.

‘Something’s coming,’ said Thraun.

There was a pressure in the air that hadn’t been there a few moments ago. And Auum could hear a low throbbing sound on the periphery of his hearing. He exchanged glances with his Tai. They felt it too.

‘Quickly. Tell me. What is the trigger radius of a ward in this grid? Are we safe on the rooftops?’

‘Until someone triggers a cell of wards that brings the building down in a ball of flame around your feet,’ said Brynar. ‘I can’t overestimate the trouble we are all in.’

‘Then I am glad you are sharing that trouble with us.’ Auum stared at Brynar, looking for malice and trickery. The mage could not hold his gaze for long. ‘Do not think to walk us to our deaths. I will know your thoughts.’

‘If it’s any consolation, I think the Mount has got this all wrong. We should be heading west.’

‘Then you should have made your voice heard a little more clearly, shouldn’t you?’ said Gresse.

‘Why do you think I was dispatched to check on the ward grid, my Lord Gresse?’

‘It matters little to me,’ said Auum. ‘I do not trust you. My Tai do not trust you and nor do the ClawBound. I would have you understand that.’

Brynar nodded. ‘Not that we really need to head west. Septern told me he knew all about the Wesman ritual. He just doesn’t believe it’ll work.’

Auum pulled up short. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. He likes a drink and he likes to talk. Put the two together and all sorts comes out. Have I said something wrong?’

‘Does Densyr know about this?’ asked Auum.

‘Not as far as I’m aware. Septern told Sharyr about it and Sharyr told me. I have told no one until now.’

‘That changes everything.’ Auum waved his Tai to him. ‘Miirt. Contact the ClawBound. Ghaal. Run with Thraun. We need his wolves alive. I want a route to the college. Quickly. I’ll see you on top.’

‘You can get to the rooftops through most of the houses on this square. I’ll show you if you like,’ said Brynar.

‘Go,’ said Auum. ‘Tai, we move.’

Miirt grabbed his arm. ‘Look.’

Up on the rooftops immediately to their left, the ClawBound elf was standing and staring away to the east and high up into the sky. While Auum watched, the elf’s panther joined him and he laid a hand atop its head. The physical contact worried Auum more than anything he had seen this night that was bleeding away to a pale dawn in the eastern sky. The gesture was only ever for mutual comfort in the face of fear. And the ClawBound feared almost nothing.

The throbbing sound intensified, grew louder. The wolves were beyond control now, running this way and that, desperate for Thraun to move. Down on the ground Blackthorne was feeding Gresse some form of drug against his pain. Two of the larger men stood ready. The old baron was to be chaired away. Diera held young Hirad close. Auum came to her side.

Up in the eastern sky, the clouds were heavy and grey. It was the same grim picture all the way to the sunrise horizon. Auum fancied he could see movement within. Something that showed itself where the cloud was a little thinner. Whatever it was, the noise it emitted was rattling the teeth in Auum’s jaws and sending low vibrations through his body.

A silver shape descended through the clouds. Gently, serenely. It was bulbous, like a worn waterskin, stretched and bumpy, destined to leak. And huge. The size of a ship. Auum stared up at it. What else could any of them do? Below it, lights shone from what looked like windows and other lights played out over the city still swaddled in the last throes of night.

‘Vydosphere,’ he breathed.

‘What?’ Diera next to him could barely hear him for the growing drone.

‘Garonin.’ Auum’s heart pounded in his chest. ‘We have to get to the college before it does or we are all lost.’

Diera shook her head. ‘What about Sol and Jonas?’

‘We will rescue them,’ he said, though he had no idea how that might now be achieved.

A beam of intense light stabbed down from the vydosphere. Somewhere near the east gates there was a detonation followed quickly by a dozen others. Orange, blue and yellow fire flared into the night sky. There was a rumble and the ground shifted beneath their feet. The sound of falling buildings echoed across the city to them. Brynar gasped.

‘The wards,’ he said. ‘They’re triggering the wards.’

Blackthorne swore under his breath.

‘Run,’ said Auum and he raised his voice. ‘Run now.’