There was nothing more any of them could do but wait until the first order came through and then the day would bring what it would bring. Throughout the College, an uneasy quiet held sway. There was not a man, woman or child that did not know their role. In dozens of meetings, all of which took place beyond the gaze of the guards in the Wesmen’s tower, Kard and his lieutenants had outlined their plans in great detail.

In addition to the fighting groups and mage defence and offence, Kard had organised every member of the civilian population into a group to tackle a specific task. From provisioning soldiers on the walls with everything from arrows to bread, through carpentry and stonemasonry teams to plug and strengthen defences, to medical, stretcher, and fire teams, everyone was assigned the task most suited to their abilities.

In separate meetings, Kerela had briefed all her mages to obey Kard until the battle was either won or lost. In that latter event, all knew what would happen and those who could not directly help in burying the Heart were expected to die defending those who could. And finally, with the College sleeping its last before battle was joined, Endorr and Seldane had, at Barras’ behest, moved hundreds of the College’s most critical texts into or just outside of the Heart. Now, when the Shroud was dispersed, the Heart would look more akin to a storeroom than the very centre of Julatsan magic.

Barras glanced around Kard’s sparse accommodation. A single bunk lay unused against the right-hand wall. Charts, parchments and quills littered a desk beneath the other, still closed, window and the desk chair was heaped with books and diaries. These, Kard moved when he saw it was his old friend that had entered.

‘Sit down, Barras, you need your rest,’ he said, a half smile playing over his cracked lips; his chin, newly shaved, glistening with the sweat of the fire in the warmth of the room. He removed a pot from a hook just inside the grate and filled a mug for Barras, which the elf took in both hands, nodding his thanks.

‘Are you sure this is right?’ asked Kard, pointing his chin in the direction of the Shroud. ‘Going back to battle, I mean.’

‘What other way is there?’

‘Well, we could restrain the people and exist within these walls for . . .’ He paused and dragged a sheet of paper from the desk, shaking off those that sat atop it. A couple fluttered to the floor where he left them. ‘. . . one hundred and seventeen days. If we ration hard and deal with our cess sensibly.’

‘And at the end of that time?’

Kard smiled again and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Well, the world will have done a lot of turning. Perhaps we could be liberated.’

‘And Senedai will have run out of prisoners to slaughter and the mounds of disease-ridden corpses will be higher than the walls. What’s all this about?’ Barras frowned and sipped at his drink. It was a herbal leaf tea with a hint of peppermint and was most agreeable.

Kard’s smile faded and he shook his head, a finger on his lips.

‘Oh, nothing. I was just hoping you were coming here with another solution, I suppose, one that wouldn’t lead to so many of those people out there getting killed tomorrow and the next day and the next day after that.’

‘I didn’t think doubt ever entered your head, Kard.’

‘It doesn’t, as you well know, but, well I don’t know, I hoped for so much when the Shroud went up.’

‘Do you wish we’d never raised it?’ asked Barras.

‘No, no. Actually, last night, or was it the night before?’ Kard looked out over the courtyard. ‘Anyway, the other night, I lay there and wondered about the outcome had you not raised the Shroud.’

‘And?’ Barras raised his eyebrows.

‘You know as well as I do. The Wesmen would have been over these walls in no time. We had no mage strength, our army was routed and everyone was terrified. This way, we are rested, our morale is higher but we are still as scared, I think. At least we’ll give them a bloody nose.’

Barras said nothing, drinking his tea and watching the thoughts play over Kard’s face, seeing the ghosts of smiles, frowns and tears. He was sorry to have interrupted the General’s reverie. The old soldier was replaying his life, knowing he had little of it left. The doubts he expressed were just those of any hard-thinking man who had the sense to search for a better way out until time was up and he had to concede there wasn’t one. He decided to take his leave quickly but he had come here for a reason.

‘What are you doing here, anyway?’ said Kard realising the same thing.

‘We’ve been talking in the Council Room. We’re going to start the Summoning now. It could be sometime before Heila reveals himself and then we have to negotiate the removal of the Shroud. It’ll be difficult to guarantee it will be gone exactly an hour before dawn but it shouldn’t be any later. You need to have at least the tower attack mages ready fairly soon.’

‘And I’ll wake my soldiers too. Couldn’t you have mentioned this earlier?’

‘We needed to study some texts to be sure. We’ll be starting presently.’ Barras got up to leave, placing his empty mug on the desk where it left a ring on an organisation chart. ‘Sorry.’

Kard shrugged very slightly. ‘No matter. I think they’ve outlived their usefulness now.’ He shook hands with Barras, his grip strong and confident. ‘Good luck.’

Barras nodded. ‘I’ll see you upstairs later this morning. May the Gods be with you.’

‘If they aren’t, we’ll be with them soon enough.’

‘That’s a grim thought.’ Barras smiled.

‘But a realistic one.’

Barras walked away to the Heart of the Tower of Julatsa.

The Raven had stopped to rest in the lee of a small incline, sheltered from the prevailing wind. Above them, bracken and bush rustled further up the slope while, to either side, the land stretched away, full of stream, bog, marsh and scrub.

They had walked well into the evening, stopping only when Denser indicated that Erienne needed the rest. The Dordovan mage herself had said nothing but the lines on her face had deepened with the late afternoon gloom and, though outwardly irritated by the attention, was soon asleep, a reassured smile on her face.

Will and Thraun had left the camp once the stove was lit and returned a long while later, Will tight-lipped, Thraun padding to a quiet spot away from his companions before lying down, a brooding look across his lupine features.

First Denser and then The Unknown had taken watches and now, with the stars straining to touch the land with their radiance, Hirad sat awake, his back against the rise, gazing across his sleeping friends and back along their path of the previous day.

While the pace had been quick, it was still just a walk and Hirad fretted on the lack of any chance to secure even a pair of horses to carry baggage and give them a break in turn from the long foot slog. But far more pressing on Hirad, despite the time constraints he knew they faced, was how they might penetrate first the Wesmen army, whose number was not known but certainly high, and following that, the DemonShroud.

He had little understanding of what Ilkar talked about but it seemed to him that they could not break the thing, whatever it was. He found himself looking forward to Sha-Kaan’s next contact, hoping the mighty dragon had found a way for them to get through.

Hirad yawned, letting his jaws stretch. He shook his head and glanced around the sky. It was a couple of hours until dawn, maybe a little more. The night was mild without the breeze to chill the skin and the gentle warmth of the stove blanketed the camp.

He levered himself to his feet and refilled his mug from the pot on the stove, adding more water and grounds from the skin and sack nearby. The supply of coffee was dwindling quickly and Hirad wrinkled his nose in distaste as he imagined a return to the leaf teas he knew Ilkar would make when the coffee sack was empty.