Everyone stared at the distant trees, and the black line that obscured their base, like deep shadow. Too deep. The blackness seeped from the forest like darkness at dusk. Talsy's heart pounded and her blood turned cold. Just the sight of them, even from this distance, was unnerving. The Black Riders. Hashon Jahar. Riders of Death. They had many names, and stories of their utter ruthlessness preceded them, carried by those who fled the carnage on swift steeds to warn others.
Few escaped the Hashon Jahar, and those who did survived only a short time before the Black Death caught up with them. Some said that they were invincible, that they killed only for the pleasure of it and did not bother to loot the towns they vanquished. Others told stories of village headmen who went out to meet the Black Riders and offer their surrender, but never returned, and their villages were destroyed. No one knew exactly who they were, but most thought they were a savage tribe from the south, intent on conquering the entire continent.
Everything about them was black, from their steeds to their skins. No city, fortress, town or village had withstood their attack. No one had ever survived, except… She looked at Chanter.
'You've seen them before, when they wiped out your clan.'
He nodded.
'Did they know you were Mujar?'
'Yes.'
'Who are they? Why didn't they throw you in a Pit?'
Chanter's eyes narrowed as he gazed at the distant Riders, and he frowned, clearly considering her questions. 'It would be better to ask what they are, not who.'
'You mean they're not Truemen?' Talsy's mind raced. 'If they're not Truemen, what are they? Are they of this world?'
He glanced at her. 'Yes.'
'Why do they slaughter us? What do they want?'
'I can't tell you that.'
Talsy watched the approaching blackness. The leaders left the trees and moved towards the city in a column that stretched all the way back to the forest. They moved at a gallop, the speed of their advance making the column look like a black snake gliding towards the city. Shiny armour and jet blades flashed in the sunlight; tall lances stitched the landscape like black thread on green silk.
The thunder of their horses' hooves came faintly on the wind, bringing with it deep dread. In the city below, a hush fell as people listened to death's approach. Many looked up at the tower where the Mujar stood, one man against an army. Talsy glanced at him again. His eyes looked like slits of sky. A thought struck her like a thunderbolt out of the blue, and the question trotted off her tongue unbidden.
'Do they die?'
He hesitated, perhaps surprised by her question, and closed his eyes as if loath to answer it. When he opened them again, he gazed at the approaching menace. 'No.'
'They're immortal, like you!'
'No.' He turned to face her. 'Not like me.'
'How many creatures of this world are immortal?'
'They're not immortal.'
'You just said…'
He shook his head, frowning. 'I can't tell you any more.'
The Black Riders crossed the cultivated land around the city, the rumble of their hooves growing louder. The horses continued at a full gallop, apparently tireless. The city's populace stood still, riveted by the approaching thunder. Talsy wondered how close Chanter was going to let them get. Cusak turned to glare at the Mujar.
'It's about time you did something.' He failed to control the tremor in his voice.
Chanter watched the Hashon Jahar, who poured across the ploughed fields, eerily silent but for the thunder of hooves. Talsy could make out individual riders now, clad in black armour, astride huge steeds, armoured like their riders. Why did they need armour? She glanced at Cusak, whose lips where white as he stared at the approaching army. Behind her, Tranton's wheeze grew louder.
The Black Riders rode four abreast, and the four behind the leaders swerved out to ride beside them, then the next four moved to the other side. They spread out with finely tuned precision, slowing to allow the ones behind to move to the sides, forming a long line. The horses tossed their heads and pranced, manes flying in the wind. Their pace slowed further as those at the back of the column raced to take up their positions at the ends of the line. Talsy could not count them. There seemed to be thousands, and more still emerged from the forest.
They stopped, and some of the horses reared, fighting their bits. The thunder faded to a muted rumble as only the hooves of those who still raced to join the line broke the stillness. The line stretched for miles, and the last Riders formed up behind the first until they stood in rows four deep. As they halted, a deathly silence fell, so intense that it beat at Talsy's ears. A crow’s harsh, ominous caw broke it. She looked at the governor, noting the film of sweat on his upper lip. The Hashon Jahar's mounts settled, becoming still. Thousands of lances lowered in unison, as if a silent signal had been sent. The destriers leapt into a gallop, the thunder loud after the prior stillness.
Chanter straightened, frowning, and she braced herself. The manifestation of Crayash filled the air with illusory fire. Heat scorched her skin and flames blinded her. It seemed as if Hell had engulfed her in its fiery horror, and she closed her eyes, holding her breath. The manifestation vanished, leaving the governor and his party yelling and beating at their clothes. Tranton alone remained calm, and he tried to soothe the irate and embarrassed Cusak.
Despite her wish to witness their humiliation, Talsy's attention was riveted to what was happening beyond the city walls. Chanter raised an arm and pointed towards the river bank on the left. Blue fire erupted from the earth with roar, rising more than twenty feet high. He moved his arm around in an arc, and the fire followed. A wall of flame shot up where he pointed, drawing a ring around the city some fifty feet from the wall. He turned, the fire following, until his finger pointed at the river bank to the right of the city, completing the barrier.
The Hashon Jahar slowed, their mounts rearing and plunging as they were forced to halt mere yards from the flames. The Riders raised their lances in unison, set them upright in their stirrups and became still. It seemed as if an army of statues faced the city, and Cusak stared at them with a triumphant, feral grin.
'We did it!' he cried. 'We stopped the Hashon Jahar!'
Talsy frowned at him, but Chanter smiled as if privy to some secret joke. Lookouts shouted the news from their vantages all along the city wall, and a great cheer went up from the streets below. It spread into the city, swelling into a clamour as people danced and clapped in wild celebration. Cusak pounded Jashon on the back as if it was all his doing. Jashon reddened and smiled, ducking his head in a parody of humble acceptance. Talsy turned away from their orgy of self-congratulation with a snort and leant against the railing beside Chanter. He gazed at the Riders, his expression unreadable. She slipped her hand into his, and he cast her a smile, his eyes gentle.
Below them, the crowd danced, and pipes and drums played merry tunes. A queue formed to mount the steps onto the battlements and stare at the fiery barrier that guarded the city. Beyond it, the Hashon Jahar waited. Talsy studied Chanter, expecting to find some sign of strain from the effort of holding the fire with his will, but he appeared relaxed, as if this great miracle cost him nothing at all. The governor clumped down the stairs with his bevy of followers, and cheering from below told her that he had left the tower to bask in the crowd's accolades. Talsy was glad to be left alone with Chanter again, and gazed at the leaping flames.
'How do you do it?'
Chanter glanced at her. 'The Crayash?' He shrugged. 'Willpower.'
'Willpower?' She shook her head. 'It can't be that simple.'
'It is.' He smiled and gestured at the fire wall. 'Every element of this world is a part of me, as they're a part of everything, though some more than others. Just as the Crayash within me warms me and is part of me, so the fire in the world around me is also part of me.'
'You mean you control the world as though it was part of you?'
'It is a part of me. Every particle of this world has a twin within me, formed at the same time. When the stars came together and started to burn, this world was formed from dust and gas. I'm made of that same dust and gas, so controlling the rest of it is just an act of will.'
'I'm also made of the same elements,' she said, 'yet I can't control any of it, not even my body, beyond a certain point.'
'Because you've lost the ability to command the world. Your people came to rely on your hands and brains,
