Cleress knew what she meant. They couldn't cope with another outburst like this without rest. Ideally, Myriell shouldn't be woken until noon and Aviana would have to sleep the whole of the next day and night. She and Ephy were in little better shape but had the rest of this night before having to once again take their stints guarding Lyanna from her own mind. Her Night was far from over.

Cleress and Ephemere made their way slowly and painfully back to their own rooms, spurning the Lemiir for the totality of rest. In truth, neither had the energy to sit and smoke.

Closing her door, Cleress mouthed a silent prayer that Erienne would return soon.

The Raven walked purposefully back towards the centre of Grey-thorne, their direction clear at last. All their clues, thoughts and suspicions had been proved right. Erienne had travelled south, she had received help and she had met with the Al-Drechar. But not on Balaia.

Denser had woken thoughtful, quiet but determined from his Communion, his fury of the night gone and giving them only a brief summary of his conversation. He was very anxious to be on his way but The Unknown was determined to make proper assessment of Greythorne, both in terms of support for its beleaguered survivors and the potential threat of the cavalry force.

They would leave town after midday all being well which, with Erienne probably arriving in Arlen the following morning, depending on wind and tide at the river's mouth, was all Denser would stand. It would still leave Erienne alone for two days but Denser had advised her to stay aboard the Ocean Elm, advice she had been given by the Guild elves already.

'Like I said earlier, keep your eyes open. We've heard all sorts of rumours about College mobilisation and we don't know where allegiances have finally fallen, if anywhere. Don't necessarily trust anyone. And remember, even within a College, not everyone thinks the same way.'

'Meaning what?' asked Hirad.

'Meaning Dordover don't want us to find Lyanna first,' said The Unknown. 'They want us to lead them to her and then they want her back inside the College and probably dead. All right?'

Hirad nodded. 'I'll be careful.'

'Good.'

It was a short walk through the ruins to the centre of the shattered

town, coming again to full, painful life, such as it was. The smell of porridge and the steam from water vats drifted across the main square. Squads of men and women moved with dread purpose to their next tasks and inside the marquee a babble of voices signified the day's activities being organised.

The Unknown Warrior stopped one of a group of men heading past them with shovels. 'I heard some cavalry come in last night. Do you know where from?'

The man shrugged. 'West. One of the Colleges.'

'Which one? Dordover?'

A shake of the head. 'I'm not sure. Lystern, I think.'

The Unknown nodded and walked on, heading for the marquee.

'Good news,' said Ilkar.

'If it's true,' said The Unknown.

'Will you ever stop being sceptical?'

'Will you ever stop being an elf?' The Unknown smiled.

T think you've said that before, sometime.'

T know I have.'

'But he was right about Lystern, that man. Look,' said Hirad, pointing towards the marquee. Standing just under its awning and talking to Gannan was a tall young man in plated cavalry leather. A cloak was about his shoulders, deep green with gold braiding at the neck, and his curly brown hair waved in the breeze that blew without pause through Greythorne's streets. He was obviously tired, his shoulders having the minutest droop, but he was still unmistakable.

'Darrick,' said The Unknown.

The Raven walked faster across the square to their old friend who didn't look up as they approached, his face half turned from them.

'Well, well, well,' said Hirad. 'There's a face it's good to see in bad times.'

Darrick's head snapped round and he took in the four of them, a rare smile crossing his face.

'But why is it always the bad times, Hirad, eh?' The smile faded as he gripped hands with them all in turn, his habitual serious expression replacing it. 'I didn't expect to see The Raven together again. The situation must be worse than I thought.'

'We're just helping a friend,' said Ilkar. 'Old habits die hard, you know.'

T do know.'

'So what brings Lysternan cavalry to Greythorne?' asked The Unknown.

'Orders,' said Darrick. 'Some of my, um, superiors deemed it necessary to increase the weight of our already significant forces in Arlen.'

'Already significant?' Denser's face displayed his agitation.

'Look,' said Darrick. T know I'm not speaking to fools. There's been plenty of College mobilisation and the potential for trouble in Arlen is high.'

'Someone else knows Erienne's landing there tomorrow, do they?'

'Hirad!' snapped The Unknown, his voice an angry hiss.

'No, they do not,' said Darrick, but he couldn't help a glance over his left shoulder where a cloaked man was standing hunched over some papers.

'But they do now,' said Denser. 'Nice work, Hirad.'

'What's wrong with you? This is Darrick we're talking to,' said Hirad, though his tone betrayed the knowledge that he'd made a bad mistake.

'And you think Lystern alone sent him and his cavalry, do you?' The Unknown scowled. 'Gods, Hirad, sometimes I wonder whether you understand anything at all.'

'Can we conduct this somewhere else?' suggested Ilkar.

Denser nodded curtly and strode back into the square, heading for the makeshift stabling.

'Sorry,' said Hirad, shrugging. 'I didn't think-'

'No, you didn't,' said The Unknown. 'C'mon. Time for a slight change of plan.' He looked deep into Darrick's eyes, the General nodding almost imperceptibly. 'Thanks.'

He turned and followed Denser out into the wan sunlight, Ilkar and Hirad behind him.

Tendjorn straightened and turned, watching The Raven hurry away. To his right, Darrick stood impassive, his eyes glinting, his body

still. The Dordovan mage could feel his anger though and found it a comfort. He opened his mouth to speak.

'Don't say it,' warned Darrick. 'You will leave them to do what they have to do.'

Tendjorn snorted. 'Sentimentality is something you can ill afford,' he said. 'They have done what we expected and located Erienne. We can handle it from here.'

'Meaning what exactly? If you've used The Raven, you'll pay. Not by my hand, by theirs. You'll do well to remember that.'

'Five years ago, when they rode the dragons to save us from the Wesmen, I would have believed them capable of anything. But now? Look at them, General. They're looking exactly what they are. Past it. You're supposed to be a friend of theirs; perhaps you should start acting like one.'

T beg your pardon?'

'I will be contacting Gorstan at Arlen presently,' said Tendjorn, ignoring Darrick's anger. 'We'll have Erienne as soon as she docks. I expect you to be ready to ride with however many you consider necessary as soon as you have completed your assessment of Greythorne.'

'And The Raven?'

'Will be kept away from causing trouble. Now that can be by you, or by Dordovan forces already in Arlen. Either way, they are not to be allowed contact with Erienne.'

Darrick looked at him, his jaw clenched, eyes betraying his feelings, but said nothing, choosing to walk away. Tendjorn enjoyed his discomfort.

'Oh, General?' Darrick stopped, his back to the mage. 'We don't want bloodshed in Arlen, do we? Like I said, The Raven are your friends. I do hope you decide to, how shall I put it, look after their wellbeing. Stop them doing anything foolhardy.'

The General walked on.

Thraun had tracked the scent of the ones for which he had dim but certain memory. Trotting with the pack towards Greythorne, other disturbing recollections fought to resurface, distracting him and worrying the pack, who kept a wary distance behind. Like dreams while he was awake, the flashes rocked him. Of standing