Shadowheart

Chapter 25

'Let this one take the door, and be ready to act,' said The Unknown Warrior.

Darrick stood facing his own death. The Unknown trotted quickly back to where Hirad kept the same soldier occupied, ensuring the frame of the door was too full of the Xeteskian for anyone to risk a crossbow bolt. Rebraal was next to Darrick, his last arrow ready in his bow.

It was a desperate measure but they really had no choice. The one closed door was going to go and when it did, the way would be opened for diem to be overwhelmed by spell attack. Their only chance now was to get at the mages and be in the thick of the enemy to stop any chance of more casting from up the stairs. That and crossbow fire. And that meant fighting with knives and daggers. It had been a long time since Darrick had practised. Time would tell whether he, or any of them for that matter, remembered the balance and moves to survive.

Myx was standing again and Sian had gathered herself even if she hadn't got her magic back. They had to break. Thraun was being slowly worn down and there was no way Hirad was going to let any of The Raven die without the others standing next to them, or at least fighting to get through.

He took a deep breath. There was a moment's calm out in the hallway, broken only by Hirad's taunting and the heavy blows of Thraun's sword. It really was now or never.

'Ready, Raven,' said The Unknown, his voice so reassuring that for a heartbeat, Darrick actually considered they'd survive this. Seeing the expression on his and Hirad's faces, he realised that was precisely what they believed.

They had faced death down so many times, thought Darrick, and he hadn't. Not really. Not even at the Understone garrison or the fields at Septern Manse had he really thought he'd die.

In here it had been different from the moment the familiar had flown from Ranyl's window.

He saw the flash of the castings moments before the door disintegrated. Shielded either side of the doorway, Darrick and Rebraal suffered no injury, waiting a count of three for the Cone to disperse.

'Go!' shouted The Unknown.

Rebraal stepped around the door and fired his arrow, Darrick seeing it lodge high in the chest of the mage before he could scramble clear and let his soldiers cover him. Darrick breathed deep and rushed out of the door, sensing The Unknown and Hirad wading into the battle next to each other.

His heart lurched in his chest. Xeteskians were everywhere. The hallway could take three in a line with room to swing long swords but for now he faced only two. Behind him, the space to the door back into the catacombs was blocked by the hideous smouldering corpses of the TaiGethen and Al-Arynaar mages. Ahead, the enemy. Guardsmen lined the hallway, more were waiting on the stairs, many armed with crossbows which were swung to bear. Mages stood well back. He saw one on either side of the stairway and others on the stairs themselves.

He threw himself into the front rank of the Xeteskians. A bolt flashed past him, thudding into the door. Rebraal was by him, the elf's speed remarkable, his bow discarded and dagger and short sword now in hand.

'Keep close, watch the peripheries,' called Darrick as the shouts began to ratde around the enclosed space. He blocked two blows in quick succession and shoved his man back, looking for the angle to close. 'Don't give the mages line of sight.'

Darrick's man made his first mistake, attempting a round-arm strike. The general stepped inside, blocked the arm at the height of its arc and punched forward with his right-hand dagger, piercing the man's heart. He shuddered and the strength left him. Ready for it, Darrick leaned into die body shoving him back hard into those behind him.

With no time to admire his handiwork, Darrick leaped the body, hunching low to keep his frame out of sight. His new opponents were off balance but Rebraal hadn't been as quick dispensing with his first man and Darrick was exposed on his right. A blade flashed in. He blocked it, just, catching the blade on the hilt of his dagger and twisting down. Looking left, he jabbed half forwards, drawing a false stroke from his other direct opponent. A third man joined the line but couldn't strike from his far right position. For that he was grateful.

He planted a foot carefully behind and rocked backwards as a second strike came in from the right, feeling it swish past his face. His momentum brought him forwards again and he let it carry him, again getting inside his man but finding the way blocked by a chop to the top of his left arm. He whipped in his right arm, dagger blade planting into the man's side beneath his ribs, driving deep into flesh.

A heartbeat later, the second Xeteskian stabbed forwards. Darrick, not quite quick enough to adjust his body shape, felt the blade slice through his armour and cut across the top of his hip. The wound burned and the blood started to flow. He grunted in pain and dropped back.

'Rebraal, I need you.'

'Right here.' Rebraal's short sword took the right hand from Darrick's tormentor. The elf s dagger slashed across his face, removing an eye. Finally, he stepped up and kicked forwards, knocking the screaming man onto his back. 'Darrick?'

'I'll live,' said Darrick.

And with his right leg soaking in his blood, he drove forwards again.

Auum and Duele shouldered their bows and picked up Evunn again, their beloved Tai unresisting, drifting in and out of consciousness, his head slumped forwards. Auum feared for him but could not let that fear dominate him. He cleared his mind while they moved past the two guards. Duele paused to rip the arrows clear of the bodies and they ran on into what had to be a catacomb hub.

In front of them the noise level had increased. The spells no longer sounded but instead the sounds of close fighting filled the air, coming from an area ahead and below them. They were in what looked like the inside of a house. Wood-panelled and hung with pictures, the narrow corridor was lined with doors, all closed. Auum chose to ignore them, moving his Tai quickly towards the sounds ahead.

At an empty alcove, he motioned Duele to take Evunn while he slipped forwards. The corridor ended in a blank wall and to the right, turned into a similar door-lined landing. He crouched low and peered around the corner. At its end were stairs and crowded on the landing were Xeteskians, he couldn't be bothered to count them. Doors on either side were open. The sounds of fighting and dying were loud in his ears and above it all he could hear the voices of those he knew, one louder than all the rest. Hirad Coldheart.

He was back with Duele moments later.

'We must leave him. We have work.'

'Here?'

Auum looked down at Evunn, his mind darkening anew. The Tai was unconscious now. 'He can come to little more harm than he has suffered already.'

He knelt down and kissed Evunn's lips, taking the stricken elf s head from Duele's lap and lowering it gently to the floor. Evunn's legs protruded into the corridor but that was a further risk he had to take.

'We will not leave you, brother. Stay with us. Yniss will protect you.' He stood, drew a short sword and unclasped his half-empty jaqrui pouch. 'I will not waste arrows on these men. They are less than animals and deserve no respect. We move.'

The two TaiGethen padded away, Evunn lying in their wake, their prayers with him but their thoughts ahead. Their only chance for him was to get a mage to examine him. Whatever spell the Xeteskian had used, it had attacked Evunn's brain.

Auum motioned Duele to run side by side with him. Without pause, he rounded the corner, jaqrui in his right hand, his sword held in defence as he passed doorways should he need it. After two sets of closed doors, the next pair were open. Ten yards ahead, soldiers craned their necks to see the action below them.

Left-hand open door, a figure appeared. Auum didn't even break stride, reversing his blade in his hand and stabbing into the enemy's neck. He choked and fell back, a strangled cry emerging from his ruined throat. Above the clamour of fighting, the soldiers ahead heard it, turning to see their doom approaching at a speed they could never hope to counter.

Auum's jaqrui howled away. Now was not the time for quiet, now was the time to instil fear. The crescent blade scythed into his target's stomach at the waistband. Duele's found the arm of his man. Both yelled the alarm, demanding help, that would not arrive in time. The TaiGethen hit them like a whirlwind.

Duele dragged out his second blade and swept it into his enemy's face. Auum planted a foot, turned a high roundhouse kick and sent his man spinning backwards. Landing, he snapped in a punch to the back of the neck and stepped over the falling man. He jabbed his sword into the thigh of the next as the enemy fought to bring up a defence.

Auum let his limbs work without conscious thought, reaching that plane where he sat almost as an outsider, seeing everything, Tual directing his every move. They were so slow, the Xeteskians, their long blades cumbersome in these close quarters. They paid, every one that fell, for the crimes committed against the elven nation and, more immediately, Evunn and every TaiGethen who had fallen as a result of their masters' actions.

The calm settled on Auum. His blade worked inside the guard of another enemy, spearing into his eye. His free hand worked in double time, balled as a fist to smash nose or mouth, open and upright for the base of his palm to slam into forehead, nose and chest or straight-fingered to crush windpipe.

They couldn't get near him. His legs kept him dancing beyond their attempts to strike back, his feet swift, dealing out blows to knee and ankle if not balancing him to strike again or dodge blow after blow.

He could hear the whispering in his mind, his mantra to the Gods that he served, repeated again and again, over and over. I will serve beyond death, I will preserve all you have wrought.

Auum's blade blocked another attack, he sidestepped a second, ducked a crossbow bolt and killed another.

He moved forward again.

Thraun howled and thrashed his sword into the side of a Xeteskian head, where it lodged. He left it where it quivered, the man collapsing in front of him. The shapechanger plucked a dagger from his belt sheath and launched himself out of the doorway, enveloping another hapless guardsman.

It had to be this way. Ahead of him, in the fighting that had become a deadly brawl, The Unknown and Hirad were in danger of being overwhelmed. Blood ran from the cut in the barbarian's forehead, he had suffered wounds to both arms earlier and as Thraun watched, a quick slash opened up his chest leather. The material begin to darken further. But far from worrying him, the damage served to galvanise Hirad further and he surged forwards, both weapons burying in his victim's chest.

Behind Thraun, Denser stood sentinel over Erienne. His mana stamina was all but spent so he stood with his sword, waiting for Thraun to fail. He would not fail.

He bit down on to the nose of his victim, pushed his dagger hard into the flesh of his upper thighs and kept him close with an arm locked around his neck. Struggle as he might, the guard couldn't break free. Not until Thraun was ready and that was when he drove his dagger into the unprotected shoulder, driving down behind his ribcage.

Thraun growled again, dropped the corpse and sought another to kill. He could smell the blood and the death, he could taste it. In his mind the memories of the forest and the hunt crowded in again. The pain of what he had lost drove him on. He would not lose the pack he ran with now. Not while he still lived.

Those closest to him tried to back away but the press from the other side of the hallway kept them close enough. Thraun barked, saw the fear in their eyes, bared his bloodied teeth and waded in once more.

'Come on!' yelled Hirad. 'Any of you bastards think you can take me?'

Every inch of his body was covered in sweat and blood. His breath was acid in his lungs, his arms and legs burned and his head was thumping. Bodies littered the ground making footing difficult and he had slipped almost fatally when taking the slice across his chest. He could feel the wound every time he lashed out and he could see that despite the men he had downed, there were so many more.

He caught the eye of a frightened youth and snarled. The boy took a pace sideways and the next instant collapsed under The Unknown's massive punch to his temple. The more alert had discarded their swords now and fought for that modicum of space to allow two and more to attack each Raven target.

Just as hard, he and The Unknown battled to keep it tight, using their targets as shields against crossbows and mages, who stood ready but unable to cast or fire lest they strike their own. But he feared a senior mage or Circle Seven master joining the fray. They had the ability to deal with individual targets wherever they were.

But he couldn't let it worry him. He struck out, catching a guardsman on his arm, feeling the knife bite deep, ruining tendon and muscle. The man gasped and dropped his blade. Hirad pounced, balling one fist around a dagger hilt and punching into his enemy's mouth. Teeth broke and blood flew from split lip and torn gum. His left hand came round direcdy after, knife sliding deep into groin. He turned and twisted it before dragging it clear. The guard dropped to the floor, clutching himself and lost to the fight.

His vision clouded again and he wiped the blood from his face. A fist clattered into his cheek sending him staggering back a pace. He saw a sword arrowing towards him and no way to defend himself. But the blow never landed; instead its owner jerked violendy and fell forwards, a curved metal blade jutting from the back of his head.

Hirad looked up the stairs. There was panic above and for good reason. Their limbs a blur, every strike finding its mark, the Tai-Gethen were back in the fight.

'Yes!' shouted Hirad. 'Yes!'

Energy flooded through him. He glanced right. The Unknown's fist connected with the chin of his opponent, knocking him from his feet to land on top of two men behind. He could hear Darrick encouraging Rebraal all the way and knew that die balance of the fight was shifting.

A mage was backing away beyond the stairs. Hirad snarled. He was next but there were enemies in front of him. He stepped inside the guard of another soldier, ducked a haymaking punch and stabbed upwards through his stomach. Still moving he pushed the dying man aside, lashed a fist into the face of a soldier targeting The Unknown and moved on again.

The Raven would be triumphant. It would soon be over.

Vuldaroq and Heryst had both been enjoying the news from Xetesk. Noting that their spies were both deeply embedded in the Dark College and highly skilled, they had settled back in their respective colleges to hear, through a cooperative Communion, about the elven raid that had brought such chaos and apparent destruction.

While piqued that they had not been consulted, there was satisfaction in any mayhem and Vuldaroq. found himself unwilling to appear disgruntled. Well, not completely. He wasn't enamoured with the Al-Arynaar mage who conducted the Communion. She was under duress from Lysternan and Dordovan mages, who felt the need for her to deal direct with their rulers. She, it appeared, didn't feel it was any of their business. It was not a way in which he was used to being spoken. Nor Heryst, though the Lysternan leader had other reasons not to make protestation. The shame of letting The Raven escape was hard to face down.

'And when exactly do you expect your raiding party to return?' Vuldaroq remained fascinated that anyone could breach the walls of the city so easily, let alone the college but it had most definitely happened.

'That is unknown,' said Dila'heth. 'Perhaps they will not return at all. We cannot be sure.'

'But you are sure they have completed their tasks inside,' pushed Vuldaroq.

'Your spies are more able to draw that conclusion. Clearly, the news that the library has been raided is very good. Auum will die before giving up the Aryn Hiil, should he have found it there.'

She sounded very tired. The pressure of the siege front, the second failure of the Julatsan mana focus and the stress of talking to the leaders of two colleges must be taking its toll.

‘Iam sorry that we press you,' said Heryst. His voice drifting across Vuldaroq's mind like balm on a wound. 'But there are other questions. Did not your raiding party seek to cause damage to the Dark College as part of their brief?'

'Your dispute is your business. We are, and have always been here in order to recover what was stolen from us,' said Dila'heth. 'When we have confirmation, we will move north to Julatsa as has always been understood.'

'Of course,' said Vuldaroq. 'And our heartfelt thanks for your aid, however given, will always be with the elven nation.'

'Do not patronise me, Dordovan,' said Dila'heth. 'Your conflicts have caused harm on Calaius. Xetesk may be in the dock but none of you are blameless.'

'Young lady I-' began Vuldaroq.

'I think what Vuldaroq is saying is that we are eternally grateful for your intervention. We have not deliberately sought to harm your country but we do seek to end any chance of that harm worsening by deposing the current Xeteskian regime.'

'I apologise,' said Dila. 'This war makes its mark on us all.'

'Indeed it does,' said Vuldaroq. 'Please do not take offence.'

'I do not.'

'Good,' said Vuldaroq. He drew a breath. 'One more thing. We understand there is trouble in the Xeteskian tower complex and catacombs, though we are unable to get too close for obvious reasons. I had no idea the elves were attacking there too.'

'They are not. The Ra-' Dila caught herself but it was too late.

'I beg your pardon?' Vuldaroq wasn't quite convinced of what he had just half heard.

'There are other targets in the college,' said Dila hurriedly. 'I was not privy to all the TaiGethen's discussions with their advisers.'

'Their advisers being The Raven, clearly,' said Vuldaroq casually.

'That is not what I said,' replied Dila'heth frostily. 'Now if there is nothing more, I have a war to fight tomorrow.'

'You understand that the allies seek The Raven,' said Heryst. 'They are criminals and must be arrested.'

'They are friends to the elves,' said Dila carefully.

'Meaning?' demanded Vuldaroq.

'Meaning, if I knew where they were, I would not place them in the hands of those who would harm them.'

'They are outlaws,' said Vuldaroq.

'They saved the elven nation almost single-handed amongst men. Their sacrifice is enough to absolve them of any crime in the eyes of elves.'

'Tell me,' said Vuldaroq. 'Are they in Xetesk or are they not?'

‘Itrust you heard my previous utterances,' said Dila. 'Would you like me to repeat them?'

'We will talk more when you are perhaps less tired,' said Vuldaroq.

'I think not.'

The connection broke, leaving Vuldaroq alone with Heryst.

‘Itrust your humiliation is now complete, my Lord Heryst.'

'Stop your tiresome jibes, Vuldaroq. We have serious matters to discuss.'

'Do we?' Vuldaroq smiled to himself. Not for long.

'The Raven are no longer just an irritation and a band of fugitives,' said Heryst. 'And before you snap back, I think you should consider not what happens when they escape Xetesk, but what happens if they do not. I will not treat you as a fool. You will be as aware as I am of the rumours surrounding Erienne. It appears she is locked in the Dark College. Dystran will know what we do. What if she should be captured?'

Vuldaroq considered. 'We will have to rescue her. For the good of Balaia.'

'Indeed,' said Heryst. 'And not just the good of one or other of us. If she is who we believe, she will not be silenced like her daughter.'

'But whose hands will she fall into, eh?'

Heryst sighed. 'That cannot be the issue, save that it should not be Xetesk's. Please, Vuldaroq, let us not compete over this. It is too important to us both.'

'She is Dordovan,' said Vuldaroq. 'She belongs with me.'

'If she is a woman of the One, she belongs to none of us, that is the problem.'

'If you capture her, you will surrender her to me,' said Vuldaroq.

'Don't be ridiculous. Any capture attempt has to be a joint venture. Any reward has to be shared,' replied Heryst.

'But what if they should escape and fall into your hands, eh?'

'Or yours?'

'Perhaps we must agree to differ on this issue,' said Vuldaroq.

'Vuldaroq!' shouted Heryst, his voice echoing painfully around the Dordovan Arch Mage's skull. 'This is not an argument about supply chains or battlefield communication. This affects the future of Balaia. A Balaia that you and I want to see returned to balance. Am I not right?'

Vuldaroq was silent.