Chapter 20

Nyam looked on, his mouth moving soundlessly. Surely, here was the evidence he needed. But whether he should take action was something else entirely. To his left, Cleress slept, so deep that nothing of the past few moments had disturbed her. In front of him, Myriell sat bolt upright in a chair, her head cushioned, tended by a Guild elf. Her eyes were closed but she was not asleep. He could see her eyes moving beneath their lids. Her hands occasionally teased at the air and, like him, her mouth was moving and her brow furrowed deeply but with concentration, not confusion.

He had misjudged Diera badly. The woman was far stronger than he had thought and that had led to the stand-off in which he now found himself. The moment he had threatened her life, she had snatched up her child and screamed for help, bringing the Guild elves into the bedroom. Almost immediately, Protectors had forced their way past the guards.

And now, Protectors ringed the entrance to the chambers, keeping the rest of the Guild elves away while Nyam studied the Al-Drechar. But more Protectors guarded the door to Diera’s bedroom too, underlining their split loyalties and the fine line Nyam was treading. His colleagues, he noticed, were either unwilling or unable to join him. Perhaps they were giving thought to the morning and how they would save their own pathetic lives when Sha-Kaan inevitably came to exact his retribution.

‘Why did you do it?’ asked Nerane, the elf mopping Myriell’s brow. ‘We were helping you every way we could. We answered your questions.’

‘Not all of them,’ said Nyam. ‘And now I have the answer I need for my masters in Xetesk. You should not have hidden the fact that another One mage was alive and under your protection. We want to perpetuate the order, see it grow again.’

‘You would take it for yourselves.’ Myriell’s voice was cracked and exhausted. ‘We will not allow that.’

Nyam looked at the old elf again, saw her eyes open and staring at him with unfettered disgust.

‘That assumes you have a choice,’ said Nyam.

‘We always have a choice.’

‘You are protecting her now?’

‘I am doing what I must. You risk what you covet by your intrusion,’ said Myriell, her eyes closing again.

‘You must let us help you,’ said Nyam.

‘We will never let our secrets fall into the hands of any college,’ she said, voice faint. ‘Get out.’

Nyam felt torn between his respect for the Al-Drechar and his need to exert his authority. Threats weren’t working. He heard footsteps behind him and turned his head to see a Protector approach.

‘You must hear me, my mage,’ he said. ‘I stand in communication with Myx.’

Myx. Dystran’s personal Protector.

‘Speak.’

Nyam listened and his heart began to charge in his chest.

Rebraal took up a position in the lee of one of the two pillars that flanked the entrance to the dome complex. As The Raven ran out in their trademark angled chevron, with the mages in a quartet just behind them, he stretched his bow again and assessed the state of the college defence.

Ahead of them, the ornamental gardens opened out into the courtyard before the west gates of the college, currently closed. Men were running towards the gatehouse from either side along the walls. More were gathered in the courtyard itself and The Raven were facing about four times their number of swordsmen, mages and archers.

To his right, the way they were planning to run, there was activity by both stables and barracks. Again, soldiers were gathering, some running away east in the direction of the Mana Bowl, others forming to move up to the tower complex. They would have to fight fast, keeping the path open for the TaiGethen who should be advancing from his left, having swept through the library. Assuming they hadn’t encountered too much trouble, of course.

Spells arced out to strike both forces as they closed. Rebraal searched the enemy for the shield mages. Light glared. Al-Arynaar Orbs flashed against the Xeteskian shield, which dipped under the pressure. Denser followed up with an IceWind. Clouds of supercooled air banked against the deepening blue of the enemy defence. From within it, Xetesk’s reply flashed hard against the Al-Arynaar barrier. Again, he could see it flex but hold firm, keeping The Raven safe.

The fighting lines came together, The Raven with typical force. The Unknown flicked his blade inside the guard of his first attacker, splitting his face from chin to forehead. He followed it with a dash to the side of the head to cast the man aside, giving him space to fight free. Beside him, Hirad switched his sword grip at the last moment, confusing his enemy, who tried to adjust the strike that was already on its way. Succeeding only in unbalancing himself, the guard watched helplessly while Hirad swayed left and whipped his sword into his undefended left flank.

Rebraal’s bow tensed. Xeteskians were rushing up from the courtyard to flank. There were archers and swordsmen, five of them in a tight squad. He loosed a shaft; it tracked slightly right, taking the front swordsman in the shoulder, spinning him round and dumping him on the ground. The others ignored their fallen comrade, running on. Hirad was going to be in trouble.

The Al-Arynaar leader plucked another arrow from his diminishing supply and nocked it even as he headed down the steps at a dead run to join the barbarian. He lined up another target, tensed and fired on the run. He missed the swordsman, the arrow nicking the cheek of an archer and doing nothing but drawing attention to himself.

Time to fight. He crouched low a pace, laid his bow on the ground and came on, drawing his short sword as he closed on The Raven’s line. Hirad hadn’t seen the risk to himself, caught up as he was with a skilful and quick opponent.

‘Hirad, your right! Guard your right!’ he called.

Arrows flew by him forcing him to duck reflexively. He needed to get under Erienne’s HardShield fast. Elsewhere in the line, Darrick and Thraun were forming an excellent partnership, the raw bludgeoning power of the shapechanger counterpointing Darrick’s slick swordplay and solid defence.

‘Flanking right!’ shouted The Unknown, taking up Rebraal’s warning and thrashing his blade at the guard confronting him. The man blocked the blow but staggered back under the impact. The Unknown saw him to the ground with a blow from the hilt of his dagger.

Hirad swept his blade in hard and low, his opponent blocking it aside, twisting away and licking his blade into the barbarian’s left arm, slicing leather and flesh. Hirad growled and sent in a riposte, chopping a cut high up on his enemy’s thigh. He backed away a pace and the move saved his life.

At the very last he saw the pair of swordsmen bearing down on his right flank, and wrenched his sword out to drive away the first strike though for the second time in quick succession a blade nicked his arm, this time his right. He ducked under a wild sweep from the other flanker but was helpless in the face of his original attacker. The quick man lashed in a killing blow but found The Unknown’s blade blocking his way and the big man’s dagger punching into his temple.

Rebraal took off in his last three paces and planted a two-footed kick into the chest of the second of Hirad’s flanking attackers. He landed atop the man, heard ribs crack and turned to get the barbarian’s grateful nod before the pair of them carved into the last standing swordsman, putting him down in a heartbeat.

The archers backed off in a hurry, taking the defending mages with them towards the courtyard. From around the side of the library, Auum led the TaiGethen into view right on cue.