'Just be ready.'

Hirad knew exactly where Aden's jail was situated. He'd spent a night there years ago after a brawl in an inn off Centenary Square.

He'd won the fight but the cell bed and stench hadn't been worth the bruising.

It was gone midnight when he galloped into the town past a guard who'd begun to protest before seeing the wolves trailing in his wake and leaping aside, yelling to his companions to get word to Arlen.

'You're already too late,' said Hirad to himself, his horse thundering past the Merchant Quarter on the way to the Salt Quarter. The streets were quiet; only the inebriates who'd left Centenary Square after closing were shambling around as he reined in at the jail house.

It was a squat stone building set between warehouses and, he knew, with cells overlooking a walled courtyard that doubled as paddock and exercise area for any longer-term prisoners of the two small cells.

There were three horses tethered outside, all pulling desperately at their reins, whinnies echoing, hooves clattering as they tried to escape the wolves suddenly coming at them.

Hirad didn't have time.

'Thraun!' he roared, jumping from his saddle and drawing his sword. It felt good in his hands. The wolf seemed to understand, howling to deflect the pack from their feast. They bunched around him, all eyes on the human.

'Time for some fun,' said the barbarian, striding to the door which opened as he approached. A guard appeared in the light that washed over the dirty cobblestones.

'One chance,' said Hirad. T need The Raven now.'

'I can't,' said the guard, raising his blade.

'As you wish.' Hirad swept his sword up and right as he ran forward, meeting a sturdy block in a shower of sparks. The guard fell back, a seasoned soldier by the looks.

'You don't have to die. Just give me The Raven.' Hirad backed up half a pace. 'We're on the same side.'

'I don't think so.' The man lunged forwards, Hirad ready to block. But Thraun leaped, bearing the man down, his head smacking off the stone, one of the wolfs paws thrashing at his neck.

Hirad breathed in deep and ran inside, confronting another three in the process of gathering weapons. Outside, the guard's screams had turned to pitiful gurgles.

'One down, let's not make it more.' Hirad heard the pad of paws behind him as Thraun and his pack came through the door. 'I can't control them if you attack.'

Another man ran round the corner.

'They're really…' His words died in his throat at the scene in the guard room.

'Angry?' suggested the barbarian, switching his sword between his hands. 'A bit like me unless you let my friends out of that cell right now.'

'I-' began the man but his gaze misted over. 'They're casting.'

Hirad dropped his blade and snatched a dagger from his belt, running across to the mage and grabbing him around the neck, metal point at his throat.

T rather hoped they would,' he said. 'Door's going down is my guess. Let's not interfere, eh?'

The dagger point drew a bead of blood. Across the room, the remaining guards stood stock still, gazes shifting from Hirad to the wolves, scared by what they were seeing but not quite believing it.

The mage moved his hands, a minute gesture. It was enough. Hirad pressed the blade a little deeper.

'Don't. You aren't quick enough to beat me.'

Thraun growled deep in his throat. Hirad looked round. The pack were unsure. In front of them, three men held swords ready but made no move.

'Wait, Thraun,' said Hirad, with no idea if the big wolf understood him. If not, there'd be more blood.

From the cells came an unmistakable voice and the sound of splintering wood. A few heartbeats later, The Unknown appeared in the guard room, registering no surprise on taking in Hirad and the pack.

'Glad you stopped by,' he said.

Hirad nodded. 'All right. Drop your weapons. We need them.' He didn't let up pressure on the mage's neck.

There was hesitation. The Unknown hissed in breath and stepped smartly across, hooking a fist into the chin of the nearest guard. The blow took him completely unawares, sending him crashing into the other two, his sword clattering to the floor. The Unknown stopped, grabbed the blade and held it ready.

'Drop them now,' he growled. The other blades dropped. The Unknown moved forward and the two guards, one Lysternan and the jailer, backed off. Denser and Ilkar moved into the space and took the swords.

'Sorry,' said Hirad to the mage.

'Don't be,' he replied. 'I know the General was uncomfortable with all this.'

'Not for that, for this.'

He spun the mage to face him, reversed the dagger and snapped the end of the hilt into the mage's temple. The man crumpled.

'Can't have you casting, can we?' he said, cushioning the stunned body to the ground. He turned his attention to the guards. 'And you. I'm sorry for your friend outside but take it as a warning. Don't follow us.'

He took The Raven in; Denser looking at him as if seeing a ghost, Ilkar who couldn't suppress a smile and The Unknown carefully neutral. All three shifted gaze to the wolves and back.

'Yes, it's Thraun. Later, all right? We've got work to do.' He smiled. 'Raven! Raven with me!'

He led the run to the dockside.

Lights were on all over Arlen when the Earl was disturbed by a frantic knocking on his door. He had posted guards at the docks following General Darrick's rather dramatic departure but, as he had expected, had heard nothing.

'Yes, yes, dammit.' He heaved himself from his chair. His guard captain half-ran in, his face severe in the glow of the fire. 'What is it?'

'The Black Wings have stormed the Ocean Elm, the Lysternans have just ridden down a guard post and the Dordovans are riding too. Our dock's going to be a battleground.'

'Not while I'm Earl,' said Arlen. 'You know what to do. Block every exit into the town. Seal off the docks and get my bloody dresser out of his bed and down to the armoury.'

'Already done, my Lord.'

Arlen's grin was mirthless. 'Then I'll be joining you all the sooner.'

The guard captain ran out, his footsteps clattering on the marbled floor. Arlen walked to a window and pulled the drapes aside. He

could see nothing at the dockside but the lights everywhere told him his town was awake and not just the nightly revellers in Centenary Square.

'Damn this magic,' he muttered. 'Damn it all the way to hell.'

Darrick rode at the head of the muted charge, already feeling guilty about the Arlen guards he'd injured or killed while riding through the northern approach to the town. The cavalry clattered across the market square, scattering drunks and late-night walkers back into the bars and inns where music sounded and light still burned brighdy. They galloped dead south past shipping offices and the Lakehome Inn before turning hard right for the Elm's berth.

Every ship in the docks was ablaze with light, the Elm no exception. Darrick could see elves on the rigging and heard orders drifting on the wind. The first spots of rain were beginning to fall. It promised to be a very unpleasant night.

He reined in at the Elm, the cavalry filling the dockside behind him.

''Ocean Elm!' he shouted. T would speak with your Captain.'

All action on the ship had ceased at the arrival of the cavalry, only for a barked order sending the elves scurrying again. A man moved to the port rail and leaned on it.

'General Darrick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'Who are you?' demanded Darrick.

'An ally,' came the reply. 'I'm afraid the ship's Captain is rather busy at the moment but I'm actually in charge. I am Selik, Captain of the Black Wings.'

'Then you are no ally,' spat Darrick.

'I think your Dordovan friends might disagree with you, General.'

'I have no Dordovan friends,' said Darrick. 'And neither do you.'