Behind Ren'erei, the light of a spell tore at the night, bringing a brief fiery glow to the sky. A dull thud reverberated into the

square and, following it, the muted roar of hundreds of voices raised in anger. In that instant, the mob developed a single mind and streamed towards the southern end of the market, Arlen and the guards at their centre, all pretence at order gone.

Ren'erei moved back smoothly and watched them go, grabbing at the arm of a guard sensibly bringing up the rear. The man looked round, face set, angry and determined.

'The Raven,' said Ren'erei. 'Where are The Raven?'

The guard laughed. 'Where any friends of magic should be right now, elf. Under lock and key. Join us if you want to save your ships.' And then he was gone, running with the rest.

Ren'erei sighed and set off for the jail, fearing a slaughter.

Thraun howled and the pack leaped away around the corner and back on to the dockside, heedless of Hirad's shouts for them to stop.

'Raven with me!' ordered The Unknown.

Swords unsheathed, Ilkar and Denser preparing spells, The Raven moved swiftly on to the dock. The rain was heavier than ever, pounding the street and their faces as they came, a scene of complete bedlam unfolding before them.

A warehouse by the fish market was ablaze and, beyond the Ocean Elm, heavy fighting could be heard between Protectors and Dordo-vans. A good proportion of the Lysternans stood off but many joined the struggle, seeing an enemy in Xetesk that they could hate, despite the fear of what-they faced.

Running on, Hirad saw the pack disappear into the torch and fire-lit mayhem, saw horses rearing and heard Thraun's unmistakable howl. What they thought they were doing he had no idea but at least they'd found an outlet for their pent-up aggression. He was just glad he wasn't in their way.

'Shield up,' said Ilkar as they ran.

'Orbs prepared and ready,' said Denser.

There were shapes in the air, moving against the flaming backdrop of the burning warehouse.

'Mages airborne,' confirmed Ilkar, voice quiet but carrying.

'The Elm's putting to sea,' said The Unknown. 'Look.'

The foresail was running up the mast, the fore and aft lines were chopped and, with a grating that must have distressed the captain,

the ship pivoted against the berth wall while the foresail filled with wind enough to drive it away from shore. The airborne mages circled high as the Elm got underway.

'How many can you count, Ilkar?' asked The Unknown. The Raven had stopped again, unwilling to join the battle in front of them, which raged just to the side of the Lakehome Inn, from where patrons were streaming back towards the centre of Arlen.

'Ten, maybe more,' said Ilkar. 'It's hard to be certain.'

There was another flash, FlameOrbs spattered down into the centre of the uncertain Lysternan cavalry, scattering horses and riders. HotRain fell away to the east and, despite the wet, smoke and steam were already rising from the soaking roof of the fish market. The pungent smell of burning fish offal and oil washed across the dock on the wind.

A detachment of Dordovan cavalry broke from the back of the fighting, punching through the Lysternans and riding up the left-hand side of the inn in the direction of Centenary Square.

'That's a bluff,' said Darrick. 'They'll be coming back to the other end of the docks.'

'We need more muscle if we're going to take the other ship,' said The Unknown.

'Any ideas?' asked Hirad.

'Yes. Darrick, get to the ship, see if there's anything you can do. Denser, go with him. Ilkar, Hirad, with me. We're going to get some Protectors.'

'And that's why you make the plans, is it?' said Denser.

'Just do it.' The Unknown turned to Hirad. 'Let's go.'

Running in, Hirad could see the battle unfold before him. The Lysternans were in a state of leaderless near-panic. The loss of Darrick had been a catastrophic blow and though the stand-in commander, a man Hirad recognised as Izack, barked order after order, it was clear they didn't know whether to run or fight. As a result, the unit was disintegrating and only spell shields kept them from disaster. If the Protectors reached them, it would be a massacre.

Beyond the milling Lysternan cavalry, the Dordovans had organised a tight defence across the narrow battlefront that existed between the fish market, the burning warehouse and the harbour's edge. After the initial surge, Dordovan mages had forced the Protectors back

with a series of ForceCones and others would be shielding the cavalry from missile and spell attack.

Inevitably, the Protectors sought another route and they could be seen streaming away into the town to circle back while the Dordo-vans set up similar blocks to the east of the fish market and around the Lakehome Inn.

Meanwhile, Xeteskian attack mages had turned their attention to the boundary buildings. The first fall of HotRain had hit the market roof accidentally, but now Hirad watched FlameOrbs crashing again and again on to the timber and slate roof. They boiled off the rain and set drying wood alight, flames licking into the night from ten or more places along the market's length.

'Into the town,' yelled The Unknown, and he took them up the right of the Lakehome Inn, away from the immediate din. Hirad could see the pack spooking horses as they nipped in and out of the Lysternans, Thraun pausing to stare at the disappearing Ocean Elm before running back into the mass.

In front of The Raven trio as they left the docks, a throng was approaching them, a mounted man at its head. Arlen.

'Oh, that's a mistake,' said The Unknown.

He ducked into an alley that ran past the rear of the inn but too late to escape attention. Several men slowed and looked in, choosing to make the Raven their first targets. The Unknown and Hirad stood side by side, the big man's blade tapping on the cobbles, metronomic.

'Don't do it,' The Unknown warned the men, not Arlen guardsmen but townsmen high on alcohol and adrenalin.

'The Earl wants your type out of here,' slurred one.

'We can't do that right now,' said Hirad. 'just move on, or better still go home. It isn't safe here.'

'This is our town,' said another behind the front pair. 'We say what goes, not you.' A murmur of assent was followed by a concerted move forward.

Hirad could count six, all big but none of them natural swordsmen. He regretted what was about to happen. The Unknown's sword still tapped its beat, the barbarian switched his grip twice for effect, but the aggressors were too far gone to notice the skill it demanded.

Behind them, Ilkar sighed.

'What is it?' Hirad didn't look round.

'I-' The elf broke off momentarily. 'Gods. Just grab the two in front of you now. It's all you can do.'

The Raven never questioned Ilkar. Whatever he felt, it had to be big. Far too quickly for the men in front to react effectively. Hirad and The Unknown Warrior reached out and grabbed the collars of the men before them, hauling each off balance and dragging them under the shield, their blades flailing uselessly. Hirad jabbed the pommel of his sword into the jaw of his opponent to quiet him but his struggle was short-lived.

HellFire smashed into the inn, the columns of superheated flame seeking the souls of the living. But there were many columns and few still inside the building. And even as the fire gorged itself on souls and wood, blasting every window outwards in a spray of glass shivers, those loose columns sought and found the nearest victims to their cast destination.

Flame raged over Ilkar's spell shield, turning Hirad's world into a dome of sheet orange, white and yellow while the Arlen townsmen screamed in terror. But beyond, the cries were of death as the HellFire plunged into defenceless bodies, seared flesh spattering the walls, burning corpses flying like dolls about the alley and beyond in the street.