‘Assessment,’ said Hirad.

‘The smoke in the sky will obscure us but the fire will kill us if we hang around,’ said The Unknown. ‘We need to move away and up the other side of this slope. The prevailing wind is blowing east to west, I suggest we push east.’

Denser and Erienne came into view, the Dark Mage with an arm around Erienne’s waist, she with blood running from a cut in her chin.

‘Not exactly the entrance recommended for a pregnant woman,’ she said. Hirad’s concern must have shown as she quickly smiled. ‘But it takes a lot more than a slide in the grass to hurt a mage child.’

‘Good,’ said Hirad. ‘Come on, let’s move away from the fire. Cover your mouths if you can.’ He moved off, fetching a cloth from his pocket and tying it over his mouth and feeling instant relief from the smoke that smothered the sky overhead and was moving to fill the shallow cleft in which they were hiding. The fire burned on two sides of them, making its way steadily down the slope behind them and to their right as they trotted quickly along the base of the cleft.

Angling slightly up-slope in the direction of their travel, Hirad strained to hear the attacking dragon or some sign of other life from the sundered travelling party but couldn’t. Worried by the sudden apparent withdrawal, he unsheathed his sword almost reflexively, turned to tell The Unknown to do the same, heard a whisper through the grass and was calling for Ilkar’s HardShield before the short arrow struck Thraun in the left shoulder.

‘Shield up,’ said Ilkar.

‘Raven, watch those flanks. Denser, I think your blade will be more use in here. Thraun how are you?’ A second arrow bounced from the shield, then a third.

‘Flesh only. I’m bleeding but I can fight.’ His flat-toned voice held no hint of the pain he had to be feeling.

Hirad pushed onwards, The Unknown two paces to his right, Denser coming to his left, leaving Thraun as rear guard behind the casting mages. He could hear Erienne muttering as she built the mana shape for a spell he prayed held no fire. Another three arrows bounced before shouts from in front of them preceded the cracking of grass and the running of feet.

Hirad stopped and hacked the grass flat in front of him. ‘Here they come. Expect short swords; you know what Jatha was carrying.’

Three shaven-headed men burst forwards, all less than five feet tall and carrying stubby spiked clubs two-handed. As they charged, they shouted in a language Hirad couldn’t understand, their faces suffused with hatred. Behind them, others were coming.

Hirad swayed backwards and caught a surprisingly powerful blow on his blade, moving it left to right and down, exposing his enemy’s right side. He rebalanced swiftly and snapped his blade up to slice the ear of the man as he tried to dodge the blow. The man cried out in pain and Hirad brought his sword back down in a killing blow through his shoulder, crashing through bone.

He stepped back again and waited, seeing Denser stabbing his victim through the chest while The Unknown had made even shorter work of his opponent. The chasing pack faltered. Where their companions had run on in a hate-lust, they stopped to look at those they faced, taking in their height, strength and the size of the blades ranged against them.

‘Move up,’ said Hirad. ‘Keep an eye on those flanks. Erienne, I think another demonstration if you’re ready.’ The enemy, perhaps a dozen of them, were backing off, Hirad watching them every step. He could see movement either side. ‘They’re going to attack again. Not frontal. Erienne, ahead is yours.’

Erienne stepped up to Hirad’s shoulder, opened her palms and spoke a single command word. IceWind howled away into the grass, destroying man and vegetation over a twenty yard spread. The Raven warriors advanced quickly into the chill behind it. Shouts of pure terror erupted from all around and suddenly the sound was all of running feet as the enemy fighting men turned and fled.

‘Excellent,’ said Hirad. He pushed on, trotting through the dead zone Erienne had created, poles of grass shattering at his passing, the bodies of half a dozen men, forever frozen in fear, scattered about him. Moving on up the slope, he could see the ground levelling out again. To his right, a pall of smoke covered the plain. The question was, where were Jatha and Styliann?

He brought The Raven to a watchful halt. Immediately, Erienne turned to tend to Thraun’s shoulder. He scanned the sky. Around the rip, a furious battle was in progress. Flame lit up the sky which was full of dragons swooping, diving and climbing. As he watched, a pair of what he thought were Kaan by their size, chased down a lone enemy. One breathed a long gout of flame over its wings while the other dived down to grab its neck, twisting violently before dropping the victim who plummeted from the sky.

From three directions, more dragons were coming to join the fighting but of The Raven’s assailant there was no sign. For a time, they all stared up at the sky, taking in the immense and raw animal power clashing overhead. So much force, speed and agility. It was a sight quite without equal and to Hirad it was a stark reminder of their stature in the conflict. They’d been lucky so far but, for the first time since they had faced the Wytch Lords, he felt their destiny was not in their hands. If a dragon wanted them dead, they would die.

‘What now?’ asked Denser, his gaze turned to Erienne as she tended to Thraun.

‘We keep vigilant,’ said Hirad. ‘Above and around. We need Ilkar to maintain the shield for now. Erienne might have scared them off but they might come back. Meanwhile, we have to think how to find the others.’

‘Assuming they’re there to be found,’ said Erienne. She had placed a pad of cloth around Thraun’s wound. The shapechanger had grasped the shaft with his right hand and at her nod, tugged it once, hard. It came free. Thraun grunted his pain and blood spread over the cloth, running over Erienne’s hands. She quickly stemmed the flow, muttered a few words and pressed a little harder. ‘Keep pushing,’ she told Thraun, placing his hand on the pressure point. ‘I’ve knitted the wound inside but it’s still weak. Try not to use that arm for the rest of the day, all right?’

He nodded. ‘Thank you.’

She caressed his cheek with her bloodied hand. ‘Dear Thraun,’ she said, and her troubled face said everything her words did not.

The Raven had stopped just below the lip of the cleft. There were enemies in the grass and enemies in the sky above and they had no idea where they were.

‘Options?’ asked Hirad.

‘We need to push away from here,’ said The Unknown. ‘We know we have to head to the mountains. We can still do that.’

‘I’ll go up,’ said Denser. ‘Take a quick look around, try and spot the others and our erstwhile attackers. What do you think?’

‘Risky,’ said Ilkar, his voice faint with concentration on the HardShield.

‘No riskier than staying here blind,’ reasoned Denser. ‘And we need Styliann. He has the writings.’

‘Do it,’ said Hirad.

‘Be careful,’ said Erienne.

Denser nodded. ‘I won’t be long.’

With ShadowWings trimmed for speed, Denser shot into the air, aware immediately of how vulnerable he felt in a medium so totally dominated by dragons. Though they were far away, battling over the rip, with their cries, their flame and their power an incredibly alien backdrop to his flight, Denser felt all their eyes upon him. He shuddered and looked at the scene below him.

The area around The Raven’s position was clear, their attackers still moving off to the east, their progress marked by the erratic waving of the grass. He couldn’t tell how many there were but they represented no significant danger. The biggest risk he could see was from the fire which raged in three places, sending billows of smoke into the sky as it ravaged the plain unchecked. The blaze nearest to them had taken much of the cleft in which they had hidden and moved steadily in all directions, the breeze slowing but not stopping its progress towards them.