Barras decided to let her have the first words though many naturally looked to the Chief Negotiator for comfort, or a solution, anything.

‘This is the hardest time of our lives,’ said Kerela, and the whisper of voices stilled instantly. ‘Our people . . . your people are dying in their hundreds, forced into the DemonShroud by a mob of murderers who seek the destruction of this College. But to remove the Shroud now would put the life of every Julatsan at risk.’

‘But if the Shroud goes, the killing will stop,’ said a voice from the crowd. Others joined in support.

‘Will it?’ asked Kerela. ‘Why do you think the Wesmen are killing the very young, the very old and women they deem beyond child-bearing age? They are a conquering army. Those of no immediate use are merely extra mouths to feed and extra enemies to watch over. Maybe they could sell the children as slaves across the Southern Oceans but the rest? Just an expense. And right now, they cannot afford any extra expense. I’m looking around you now and one in three of you will die if the Shroud is removed before we are ready to act. Anyone who doesn’t believe how selective the killings are, is welcome to view from the North Gate at dusk.’

‘We can’t just sit here and watch the bodies pile up,’ said the spokesman, a youngish brown-haired man named Lorron. ‘You understand that.’

‘I do. And I am mystified that you know nothing of our plans in development. Here you stand with a member of the city Guard, to whom General Kard will be giving further instruction later, and yet he has clearly told you very little or nothing.’ Kerela stared at the soldier whose defiant expression began to wilt under the pressure of the old elf’s gaze. ‘I do hope you haven’t just been stirring up trouble,’ she said gently.

‘I’ll tell you our problem,’ said the soldier. Barras could feel Kard tense and could only imagine the look on his face. ‘It looks like you’ll do anything to keep your College secure. Even if that means every prisoner out there dies.’

‘Yes, but I see you managed to find sanctuary in here. Is our accommodation no longer to your satisfaction?’ The tips of Kerela’s ears were reddening. Barras knew there was an explosion to come. It was just a matter of when. ‘Tell me,’ said the High Mage, her voice awfully calm. ‘What would you have us do?’

‘Fight!’ said the soldier, and a brief murmur rose around him. ‘Gods in the ground, what else?’

Kerela nodded. ‘I see. And presumably, you think we’ll triumph despite the odds stacked against us, do you?’

‘We can try. We have magic,’ said Lorron.

‘And it will be used when the time is right!’ thundered Kerela, the sudden power and volume of her voice jolting the entire crowd. Barras fought back an unwanted smile. Kerela continued.

‘Do you think I want to stand and watch while innocent Julatsans die? Do you really? But I’m afraid I have to. Because more than half of my mages are unable to cast through injury or mental damage caused ensuring that you stand here alive and well today. And General Kard has drawn up plans for an attack but the beds are still full of wounded men. Would you have me leave them to die? Are they somehow less important than those outside?

‘Dordover has sent soldiers, and probably mages, to our defence. Shall we not bother to wait for them? And shall we rehearse our plans in the courtyard here under the eyes of that damned tower, giving away our intentions as we do so?’ She pointed to the Wesmen’s tower which, manned day and night, was even now being pushed to a new position, presumably to observe better the current dispute.

‘The slaughter outside the North Gate sickens my very soul but worse is the thought that any of you believe I am complacent in my duties.’ Her voice lowered again. ‘We are few against many and our attack has to be on our terms and its timing exactly right or we will be slaughtered. I understand your impatience but, my way, we will save more lives overall. Should that not be our aim?’

‘And what about the College?’ asked the soldier.

‘It is the hand that feeds us and the power that drives us. We will defend its integrity with everything we have. I will not lie to you. Any attack we mount in an attempt to break the siege must not leave the College at the mercy of the Wesmen.’ Kerela stopped, awaiting a response. ‘No Julatsan will die in vain. No life will be wasted while I am High Mage. Does anyone wish to say anything else at this stage?’ People in the crowd looked at each other. Heads dropped.

‘Good,’ said the High Mage. ‘Just one more thing before you go. I am High Mage and this College is under my direct control, along with the Council and, because we are in a siege situation, General Kard. Anyone who thinks that this is not an acceptable situation can try walking the Shroud with my blessing. Do I make myself clear?’ Some nodded, some didn’t. Most found their shoes very suddenly the most interesting part of the College. Kerela nodded, gathered the Council and walked away towards the Tower.

Behind them, Kard’s voice rang clear. ‘Break it up. Get about your duties. Not you. Come here, soldier. Come here!’

Thraun stood at the stern of the single-masted sail-boat, growling at the Wesmen grouped on the shore. He was in the way of the tiller and Denser, under the watchful eye of The Unknown, had to reach around his rear to control their direction. There was no pursuit. The flames of the devastated camp lit up the sky, casting dancing shadows on the water that played in the ripples caused by the wind. Cloud had rolled up to all but extinguish the moon’s watery luminescence.

Hirad sat back and pulled off his boots, emptying water over the side. He was tired. Six days of hard riding and walking followed by a fight they hadn’t planned. He sat the other side of Thraun and looked along the boat. The sail was full but not tight, driving them across the inlet. The Unknown Warrior was sitting opposite the boom wringing out his socks. On the covered prow in front of the mast sat Erienne and Will, out of the way of the tackle, while Ilkar, his hands gripping the gunwale, was right next to Hirad, his gaze fiercely inboard.

They had escaped but it hadn’t been comfortable. Fortunately the back-up plan had worked well. Even so, Hirad wasn’t satisfied.

‘What happened, Ilkar?’

‘Clumsy Wesman,’ said Ilkar, raising a smile. ‘I think he was trying to wrestle Denser’s dagger from his throat but he knocked their alarm bell off instead.’

‘We had to attack before we reached the platform,’ said Denser, supplying the answer Hirad wanted. ‘Ilkar couldn’t come back because he’d have lost his Cloak for a beat and stepped on me, so, with the guard blocking the entrance, we had no other choice.’

‘But the kills weren’t clean,’ said Hirad.

‘We’re mages, not knifemen,’ said Ilkar a little sharply. ‘I have never done anything like that before and I doubt you have.’

‘I guess not,’ said Hirad. ‘But I still need to show you the best killing thrusts. It would have helped.’

‘When we’re on dry land, I’ll be glad to undergo training,’ said Ilkar. ‘But right now, I’m trying not to be violently sick.’

Hirad laughed. The boat was barely pitching, its passage very smooth, yet there was an uncharacteristic paleness about the elf’s face.

‘You’ll be all right,’ said the barbarian.

‘Look at the horizon,’ said The Unknown. ‘It moves less than the inside of the boat. It’ll give you some sense of stability.’ Ilkar nodded and dragged his gaze out over the water towards the eastern shoreline where the sea met the sky.

Apparently satisfied with what he saw on land, Thraun turned, knocking the tiller briefly from Denser’s hand. He ambled up the boat, pausing to stare at each member of The Raven as he passed. Hirad met his gaze, seeing the yellow flecks in Thraun’s eyes but none of the repressed humanity that Will assured him was there. Yet there was an intelligence in that stare that had nothing to do with anything animal and, curiously, Hirad felt no threat despite being one lunge from death.