‘We will move to engage his army immediately but with no thought of breaking it, merely occupying it. This is because we will not be attacking with our full strength. It is estimated that the army pressing the Manse is eight to ten thousand strong with only the Protectors keeping them away. Here is what will happen.

‘The second, third and fourth regiments, under the command of Regimental Commander Izack, will depart immediately, heading south before turning east through Grethern Forest, aiming to attack the Wesmen at the Manse from the south tomorrow at first light.

‘Tessaya will naturally anticipate this move. He is not a stupid man. Therefore the balance of the army under my command will meet them head on. We will try to draw them into the forest where our lack of numbers will be less of a disadvantage. Specifically, we will break the regiments into their component centiles and each Captain will have a particular area to guard. It’s a risky strategy but will allow us to cover a wider front. It will be a running battle unless we can convince Tessaya he has us all trapped in the forest. Comment.’

‘Sir,’ said Izack, a black-haired middle-aged soldier with small brown eyes and an impeccably trimmed moustache. Darrick motioned for him to continue. ‘The way through the woods is slow. If you are creating a diversion in Grethern, should we not march north and turn east beyond the first crag?’

‘But then if the Wesmen threaten to overwhelm us, you could not help. By the time you’re far enough south to turn east unseen, we’ll know if we can hold them without you. And you aren’t to travel the forest all the way. A mile beyond the Wesmen encampment, you should rejoin the main trail. Overall, a quicker journey than by crag.’ Darrick had considered and dismissed Izack’s thought earlier. But at least the man had the balls to speak up and the brain to speak well.

‘General, you are trying to hide a great many men in the forest. Do you really think they can escape the Wesmen?’ asked Gresse.

‘Yes, but only if we make ourselves appear larger than we are. We must make full use of our mage strength to block the gaps. That is also why we need them in the forest to fight us and why Izack must travel three miles south before turning east.’

‘And if we don’t hold them?’ asked Blackthorne.

Darrick shrugged and gave the answer he always did to such a question. ‘Perhaps that is something you should ask Izack because I will not be here to issue new orders.’ The fact was that he never considered failure or defeat. He had never experienced it. And he firmly believed there was nothing lucky about it. ‘Anything else.’

Heads shook and ‘No sir,’ rippled around the tent.

‘Then come to me in turn to receive your area orders. Barons, I would be obliged if you would brief your farmers and vintagers, who built the camp so expertly, to defend it in a similar manner.’

Gresse’s laughter echoed back as he and Blackthorne left the tent.

The night was full when The Raven gathered around the stove to talk briefly before grabbing what rest they could. Tomorrow, the fate of two dimensions would be decided. Around them, the Broodlands were quiet. Light shone from the odd opening in one or two dwellings but the Balaians were the only people outside.

‘Can you do it?’ asked Hirad, yet another mug of coffee warming his hands.

‘In theory,’ said Erienne. ‘We can construct the shapes.’

‘There’s a but in there somewhere,’ said The Unknown. ‘A big one.’

‘Several,’ agreed Erienne. ‘We have no idea how much stamina will be needed to close the rip this side, only that we have the ability to project the casting from the ground. Just. If the draw is too great, we won’t be able to close the corridor. We have had to estimate the effect of randomisation in interdimensional space on the mana construct. We have had to guess at how much strength the knit construct needs to seal the corridor rather than cause collapse. The list goes on and grows in technicality.’

‘Meaning those were the simple ones,’ said Hirad dryly.

Ilkar chuckled and patted his leg. ‘Poor old Hirad. Magic will always be a closed book to you, I’m afraid.’

‘Less of the old,’ growled Hirad. ‘I’m not having that debate start again. All I wanted was a yes or no answer.’

‘We’ll do it,’ said Denser. ‘We always do.’

‘Has Hirad been teaching you what to say?’ asked Ilkar.

‘You have to believe.’ Denser shrugged. Erienne put an arm around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

‘Clearly he has,’ said Ilkar.

‘And what about him?’ Hirad nodded his head towards Styliann who sat with his back to a hut, Septern’s writings clutched hard to his chest. ‘Does he believe?’

‘With a zeal I find hard to credit,’ said Denser. ‘Frankly, it worries me. His eyes are wild at times. I don’t know whether he’s scared or excited.’

‘Well, we need him,’ said Erienne. ‘So don’t go upsetting him.’

‘And he needs us,’ said Hirad. ‘Don’t forget that. He dies just as much as we do if this fails.’

The Raven fell silent. Hirad sampled the heavy, warm atmosphere. The Brood Kaan were at rest. But they knew, as their minds recovered from their last fight, that the next would decide whether they prospered or ceased to exist. They knew the Naik were coming back. They knew more of them would suffer the pain of flame and claw and they knew that no matter how hard they fought, their destiny was not in their hands.

The Raven’s responsibility weighed heavy on Hirad very suddenly. Sha-Kaan was returning from his mission to the Veret and would want an answer from Hirad more certain than that he had been able to give earlier. And despite Denser’s apparent confidence, Hirad could not shake his anxiety. Before he faced the Great Kaan, that was something he would have to rectify.

‘Still you try and talk your way out of extinction, Sha-Kaan. Still you choose your mouth to speak rather than breathe the fire that makes a true dragon. Few will lament the passing of the Kaan. You preach that which no other Brood wants to hear.’

Sha-Kaan continued his lazy circling. The Naik’s leader, Yasal-Naik, flying with two escorts had intercepted the Great Kaan on his journey back from the Veret Broodlands of the Shedara Ocean. It was clear he had not come to fight. It was also clear that he had not come to talk of peace. Sha-Kaan was not surprised though he was disappointed in himself that he hadn’t chosen to vary his route back to Teras.

High above the cloud in the chill streams where he could let the wind do the work to speed him home, he had seen the Naik trio by the light of the stars and had decided not to try and evade them. He felt able to defeat three of the smaller rust-brown Brood despite the weariness in his bones, scales and wings.

As they neared, he had picked out Yasal by the v-shaped cut in the wedge of armour behind his head. Sha-Kaan had put the damage there himself over a hundred cycles before, in a battle over Beshara. If Yasal was flying it meant only one thing. He had come to gloat over his impending victory.

The two elder dragons circled each other, their minds meeting to speak, while the escort stood off below.

‘The Naik are the only Brood whose minds remain closed to the havoc we wreak on our lands. We cannot battle forever. If we do, there will be no land left to win. There will come a point where even you will have to recognise that.’

Yasal-Naik growled a laugh. ‘But the battle is already won, Sha-Kaan. With your Brood destroyed and your melde smouldering, we will have dominion and all other Broods will furl wing to the Naik. The Veret are already doomed to subservience. The Gost will follow, and the Stara will follow them, until every Brood does the Naik bidding.’

‘Your over-confidence will be your downfall, Yasal,’ said Sha-Kaan, though he knew the Naik’s summation to be correct. ‘Don’t preside over victory before it is assured.’