Pheone was up with the dawn the next morning feeling torn and unsure but strangely confident. For most of the college, optimism was the dominant feeling.
The arrival of the elves had galvanised the college effort. The extraordinary warriors, the painted TaiGethen, had moved like ghosts through the rooms and corridors in a sweep that left no hiding place. They, together with the mysterious and disturbing ClawBound, had established that there were no Xeteskian assassins in the college but it was more likely as the hours went by that these killers would be present in the city. So the gates remained closed and they scanned the skies ceaselessly.
The Raven, though, their effect had been amazing yet entirely predictable. Among the hundred and seventy or so mages, guards and militia, there was the undeniable feeling that they could no longer lose because The Raven never lost. And here they were, fighting for the college. Pheone couldn't help but feel the same. Something about their air of confidence when they rode into the place, their bearing and their authority. When The Unknown Warrior spoke, you listened. When Hirad looked at you, you tried harder. When Darrick explained a better way to work in defensive teams, it seemed obvious.
But she had seen them later on that night, talking with Commander Vale, and it left her wondering whether this might not end up being their graveyard. There were three of the six over whom she had serious concerns that she dare not voice. Darrick, who had been weakened by a deep wound on his hip and who had plainly suffered through their three days of hard riding. Hirad, who, though he would never admit it, was barely free enough to fight, having sustained a sprained wrist and a damaged chest that restricted the movement of his upper body. Both clearly pained him. And, of course, Erienne. She had heard so much about Erienne and now she knew what the poor woman carried. There had been so much grief in her life, so much pressure and now she was alone with a magical force she could have no real idea how to properly control. That she was at the table at all was impressive enough. But her temper was short and she was isolated, as if continually biting back something that wasn't her. Something that might escape if she invoked its name.
Pheone wasn't sure whether the rest of them could see the trouble she was in and the energy she consumed in just trying to remain herself. Pheone could but, like them, could offer no assistance. Even so, she couldn't shift the irrational thought that, once the fighting started, they would prevail. And if that belief was shared throughout the college, then The Raven would already have had the desired effect and for that she was eternally grateful.
After breakfast, with the elves still resting for the attempt on the Heart that would take place after midday, she climbed up to the walls as was her habit,.finding Hirad standing there, looking south. He wasn't the only one up there. It was another fine day and away past the boundaries of the city, anyone who cared to look could see the cloud of dust that signified die approaching Xeteskians. All of them had their fingers crossed that more allies, particularly Izack and Blackthorne, arrived before their enemies.
'How far away do you think they are?' Pheone asked, coming to his shoulder.
He turned and smiled at her. 'Hard to say. Half a day, perhaps a little more. Like Rebraal said, they'll be here before nightfall. I reckon they'll posture for the rest of the day, try and get us to surrender and then attack at dawn. But they'll send in assassins and familiars if they can before then.'
'It's not a happy picture.'
'No,' he agreed. 'But we have to know what we face. No sense in hiding, is there?'
‘Iguess not.'
There was a long silence. Although the college walls were taller than most buildings in Julatsa, their vision of the open spaces beyond the city was still obscured by rises in the ground. When and if lzack did appear, they'd have little warning.
'Pheone, I'm sorry about last night. It had been a long day.'
It was an apology she hadn't expected and struggled to accept easily.
'It's fine,' she said. 'We were making mistakes.'
Hirad shook his head. 'It's not that, really it isn't.' He paused. 'I miss him. Every day when I don't hear his voice it adds to my anger and I can't let it go. You understand. It's funny. When I didn't see him for years, it hardly mattered because I knew he was fine. Now he's gone and that time seems such a waste.'
Pheone couldn't find the words to say anything meaningful, just nodded her head, feeling vaguely embarrassed that this man, who looked so uncompromisingly tough and had seen so much death, would speak to her like this.
'He's why I'm here you know,' Hirad continued. 'Ilkar wanted us to come and help raise the Heart but it's gone beyond that now. I can't help with that. But I can strike back at every one of those bastards coming here. They are all to blame.'
The warmth and sadness in his voice had vanished, to be replaced by something entirely cold. Pheone leaned away a little, desperate to change the subject.
'But we will do it. Raise the Heart, I mean. Even if it's only a temporary victory it'll be for the memory of Ilkar, won't it?'
'It won't be temporary,' said Hirad and he turned and stared at her, his eyes burning into hers, not allowing her to look away. 'Because we aren't going to lose.'
‘Iknow,' Pheone said, hoping she sounded as convincing as he did.
‘Ihope you do because belief is everything.'
Hirad had none of the charisma of The Unknown Warrior but he had a heart so proud and full. No wonder Ilkar always spoke of him as the man who made The Raven live. At least now she could see exactly what he had meant.
'Where's Sha-Kaan?'
Hirad chuckled, his eyes losing their penetration and his expression softening. 'Yes, he told me he'd made your acquaintance yesterday.
Don't be scared of him. He actually quite likes humans these days, I think.'
'That's a relief.'
'He'll be in the Blackthorne Mountains, resting. Some cool cave or other that reminds him of his homeland, I expect. When we're ready to send him home, I'll call him. He's excited about it. Can't say I blame him. Sometimes I wish I was going with him.'
'Why don't you?'
'Because I won't betray Ilkar's memory,' he said.
'Do they live in caves, then, dragons?' Could it really be like all the stories she'd read?
'No. They have places called Chouls where they go to rest with their Brood brothers sometimes. They're a bit like caves. Mostly though, Sha-Kaan's land is hot and humid and they live in buildings built by their servant race. I'll explain it all to you one day. Maybe take you there.'
Pheone couldn't fathom Hirad at all. That was an offer no one could turn down and so casually made like you might buy a round of drinks. From anyone else, it would surely have sounded boastful, flaunting of influence. From Hirad, not so. And he clearly meant it.
'Could you do that?'
'Why not?'
'I'd love to.'
'Good. Another reason why you need to believe we can win, isn't it?' Hirad stretched his arms and a flicker of pain passed across his face. 'Right, I've got to go and have some balm put on this damn chest.' He paused at the top of the stairs, massaging his strapped wrist. 'Thanks for being with him the time you were,' he said. 'You meant a lot to him, made him very happy. I won't forget that.'
She watched him go and the tears began to fall.
'Neither will I,' she whispered.
All things considered, it couldn't have gone much better for Dystran. He had to put aside the debacle in his catacombs because, as Ranyl had pointed out, something always goes wrong, but everything else was working out perfectly.
With few real alarms, his forces were closing in on Julatsa, where they would crush the college, the remnants of the allied forces and the elves. They would take The Raven apart, capture Erienne and the elven texts, and be effectively unopposed as rulers of Balaia.
There was no way Lystern or Dordover could threaten him now and it really just came down to how long he left them alone before crushing them too. How both cities must have wished they had built walls. How both must have wished for a less ethical approach to magic. Vuldaroq alone saw the mistake his college had been making but he wouldn't have time to put it right. They would all pay for it now. At Dystran's leisure.
He should have been concerned that the mages and guards he had dispatched after the few hundred allied men left him a little exposed to a concerted attack but frankly, there was none coming. His scouts had had die run of the mage lands for three days and nothing was heading his way.
The pathetic few tents that represented the army of the righteous, as that fool Selik had dubbed it, became fewer every day as more and more realised the Black Wings weren't coming back. He'd even recalled his spies from the encampment. It was a waste of resource.
He had spent a great deal of his time in the Laryon hub, now that the place had been cleaned. He and his newly assembled research team checked and rechecked their calculations. In a day, a spell would be available to them and for a prolonged period. He had ordered his dimensional casters not to strike until the allies were within sight of Julatsa. He wanted the enemy to see their comrades destroyed if he could.
It was just a shame that the BlueStorm could not be cast. That particular conjunction would not happen again for some time. Still, the alternative would be just a's devastating, if less visually impressive.
Dystran foresaw the end of the war in a maximum of three days from now. Standing on his balcony before flying across to see Ranyl, he reminded himself to give some thought to the order of the country once he had assessed his own home strength. It was going to be a big task, ruling Balaia, but, as the only magical force left, he would be uniquely positioned to be its first ever sole leader.
It was a frightening thought, he had to admit. He cast Shadow-Wings and drifted slowly across the space to Ranyl's tower. One day soon, he would land and find the old man dead. The one man he needed more than any of them. He hoped today was not that day.
The refectory was empty barring one table in its centre. Across it were spread maps of the city and hastily drawn sketches of the surrounding mage lands. Though they had all begun sitting down, all but Erienne were standing now, intent on the plans. Izack had arrived shortly before midday and the meeting had taken place immediately, with Xetesk's forces just a few hours behind and marching with great confidence. Izack stood with The Raven, Commander Vale, Pheone, Rebraal and Auum.
'So you're saying that Blackthorne won't be here before Xetesk?' asked The Unknown.
'Yes,' said Izack. 'Right now, he's holed up here.' He tapped the map of the land between Xetesk and Julatsa. 'He's made the right decision. He's got about fifty with him but they are in no condition to fight. Better he rests a day and attacks the rear when he can. We'll be in contact so I can direct him.'
'I'll trust your judgement,' said The Unknown.
'On a brighter note, we know that the allies have moved from their siege positions south and west of Xetesk and are coming to reinforce. They'll be here a day after the Xeteskians, all things being equal. Now Xetesk will know they are coming so they'll be pushing very hard when they attack which, I think, we all believe will be tomorrow. But it could be late this afternoon, so we have to be prepared. Agreed?'
There were nods around the table.
'Right, General.' The Unknown winked at Darrick. 'Since you're a wanted man but Izack doesn't seem too keen on taking you into custody and his men have searched high and low but can't find you, perhaps you'd like to repeat what you suggested to us last night.'
'Be glad to,' said Darrick. 'All right by you, Commander Izack?'
'I'll only arrest you if I don't like the plan.'
Darrick almost smiled. 'All right. Well, it doesn't take much to see that the numbers don't add up. This college is too big for us to hope to defend the walls from the inside. We simply don't have the forces.
Not only that, not all of our skills suit defence of this nature so I'm advocating a split approach.
'You, Izack, need to hide the cavalry outside of the college. There are good stabling facilities to the north of the central market and there's little reason to believe you'll be found. Even so, we are going to do a general sweep of some areas with ClawBound, should they agree, before the Xeteskians arrive in force.
'Second, the TaiGethen are masters of the hit-and-run, and of close-quarters hand-to-hand. So, I'd like most of them outside these walls. Same goes for the ClawBound. This leaves us with all the mage strength, the Al-Arynaar archers and old warriors like Hirad to keep the walls and gates clear. We're presuming they'll try and breach the walls with spells, because they won't have siege ladders or the time to build them, and roping up is suicide. What we have to do is stop those spells and I'll go into how to do that in a moment. Remember, they have to get in fast or risk us not just raising the Heart but being rested as well.'
He stopped and poured himself a goblet of water.
'Are you all right with this, Izack, or do I consider myself under arrest?'
Izack shrugged. 'No General, you remain a free man. It's the plan I would have suggested. My only comment so far is that we must be mindful of Chandyr's cavalry. He has kept it out of sight during the march so he may be anticipating this sort of move.'
'It's a fair point. Now, I'm assuming, Pheone, that the investiture of spells in the walls and doors is healthy?'
'It's solid. We've been lucky. The problem we could face at any time, mind you, is the inability to reinforce should the mana focus fail. We just can't rely on it.'
'Also, if there has been an attempt to raise the Heart, we'll have a lot of tired mages and little spell capability,' said Denser. 'Don't forget that.'
Darrick paused and clacked his tongue. 'When are you attempting the rising?'
'Any time,' said Pheone. 'We've been ready since mid-morning now that everyone has been reminded of the casting.'
'So why has Chandyr not pushed on faster, I wonder,' said Darrick. 'If he knew you could act almost immediately.'
'I very much doubt he did,' said Pheone. 'Look, all colleges have castings for this eventuality but only in Julatsa is it woven into the basic lore and structural teachings from a student's first day. In Xetesk, they'd have to study from scratch, isn't that right, Denser?'
Denser nodded.
'But here it's different. It's a question of history. When Julatsa was founded, we were under threat for years. So the ability to bury and raise the Heart had to be at the middle of everything, just in case. And now it's our way of getting a student started. The construct is very basic. The energy we have to pour in is not.'
'Good,' said Darrick. 'And how long does it take?'
'Under normal circumstances, no time at all. Today? I'd hate to guess.'
'Then if you don't mind taking an order from an ex-general, go and start now. Maximum time, maximum rest.'
'You don't need me?'
'Not that much,' said Hirad. 'Get on and good luck.'
Pheone nodded and left to calls for good fortune from around the table.
'Right,' said Darrick. 'Let's wrap this up and go and watch. It fascinates me.'
'Hold on,' said Hirad. 'We're forgetting one thing on the magic front, before you go on.'
'Which is?' asked The Unknown.
'Sha-Kaan,' said Hirad. 'There's a casting to get him home. That has to happen before the battle. Denser?'
Denser turned a carefully neutral face to him. 'Why must it be done before the battle?'
'Because we can't take the risk of dying and leaving him stranded here. Not now we have the knowledge.'
'Old friends dying is a risk of war, as you so ably pointed out yesterday morning,' said Denser. ‘Ineed my stamina to protect this college. He'll have to wait.'
Hirad stood quietly for a moment, Izack watching his face. It betrayed no anger though his body had tensed.
'That isn't acceptable,' said Hirad.
'Rough justice,' said Denser. 'If he can wait six years, he can wait another few days.'
Hirad thumped the table. 'No!' he shouted. 'He has to go now, today. I spoke to him last night. The flight nearly killed him. He has so little left that a few Xeteskian mages could take him down. Think, Denser. And do the right thing.'
'Hark at you, Coldheart.' Denser shook his head. 'The right thing is what you think at the time, isn't it? Well, no dice. This time, I'm in the chair and I decide. And there's nothing you can do about it.'
Hirad breathed in deeply. His shoulder muscles bunched then relaxed and he held up a hand. 'Denser, please. If there is one innocent in all this it is Sha-Kaan. Gods, he was trapped here saving us and now he has to go home. He's not a part of this war. If you want to take out your anger about what I did, then do it on me. Don't use him as a pawn. He deserves better than that from all of us. He deserves to live and if you don't send him back now, you might be condemning him to death. Please, Denser.'
Denser looked at Hirad askance and then turned fully to face him. 'You know, Hirad, I'm genuinely impressed by that. And I'll not often say that after hearing you talk. Look, let's get this meeting over with and I'll go and check the texts I took from the catacombs. If I'm right, it shouldn't take too long. All he needs from me is a line to follow, after all.'
Hirad beamed but then remembered himself and nodded solemnly.
'Thank you, Denser.'
Denser shrugged.
'And I'm sorry, all right?'
'Later, Hirad. Let's discuss it later.'
Hirad slapped the table. 'So, General, what's the big idea?'