He felt a blade whistle above his head. A reaver tumbled away, flaring a ghastly yellow.
'Thanks.'
Rebraal shrugged and sought his next target.
Darrick, flanked by elves, was calming the horses. Commands mixed with soft words in one's ears brought it back to its senses and it began to slow, bringing the other with it, suddenly aware of its peril and needing direction. Hirad provided it, turning them right towards The Raven and snapping the reins to maintain impetus.
His friends were in trouble. Strike-strain in their hundreds had gathered above them and reavers approached from all quarters. The Tai cell fought with grace and control at the head of the running pack, never seeming to break stride. The Unknown and the two Protectors were a power block, delivering shuddering strikes that battered a path clear. Thraun ran alongside Denser and Eilaan in their wake. The two mages clearly held ForceCones above their heads, sweeping them around and behind, denying the demons access to Thraun's vital cargo.
'We need more spells keeping the sky clear,' said Hirad. 'Darrick, get your arse up here. It's going to get interesting.'
Rebraal called out the order. Al-Arynaar mages on the roof of the wagon turned their attention to The Raven. Two followed Denser's example, deploying ForceCones ahead of the horses, using them as battering rams. Hirad waited for Darrick to step nimbly up the horse's back before snapping the reins again, encouraging more speed from the tiring animals.
The two groups closed quickly, demons getting caught between them. Elven ForceCones drove the creatures left, right, up and forwards. Hirad saw the danger.
'Move those Cones!' he shouted, gesturing with his arm as he did so. 'Above head height.'
Rebraal confirmed the order and The Raven could run in under temporary cover. Hirad threw the reins at Darrick.
'Your turn, General. We need Erienne inside at the earliest.'
With that, he thumped to the ground and ran towards The Raven, the ice from his demon cuts stiffening his muscles, the sweat streaming from his forehead and the blood rushing in his veins. And at the periphery of it all, he kept at bay the fear that they all harboured. That these hordes were always within an ace of snuffing them out for ever. That one slip would end it all.
He roared to clear his head and dragged his mace out to smash it
into the back of the first reaver he encountered. It felt good. It felt very good.
'Unknown, get ready,' yelled Hirad, voice carrying over the narrow press of demons separating them.
He saw The Unknown nod and thunder his mace into the skull of a reaver. The creature shrieked and fell backwards, shaking its head, its skin a blazing bright blue. Beside him Ark and Kas, operating with mace and axe, upped their pace. Demons flew from their path. Strike-strain carrying clear over Hirad's head, reavers crumpling and falling, trampled as they tried to rise, shaking off the shock of the blows.
Auum's Tai had dropped behind Thraun and the mages now and were operating with dreadful efficiency. Not for them the path-making power of the mace. Instead, feet and hands denied the demons the rear of the Raven line and, where they fell, they'd find a TaiGethen pounce to deliver the short-sword stab under the arm.
Hirad slapped his mace into the demon pack once more. He could hear the rattling of the carriage and feel the thud of hoof underfoot.
'Break them, break them!' ordered Darrick.
The wagon slewed hard right, dirt and grass flying up from under its wheels. Denser shifted the focus of his ForceCone, driving a wedge through the demons, dismissing the spell before it could threaten either Hirad or their transport. The barbarian battered his way towards Thraun, mace in both hands now. He felt a claw swipe across the top of his head and the blood began to run. He staggered and straightened, took two more paces and was knocked clean from his feet. Pain scorched into his side, winding him. Demons closed around him, their calls and shouts mixing with those of The Raven.
Rolling onto his back, he saw sky above him and the wings of demons closing in. He carried on rolling, a claw missing his face by a hair. A weapon whispered across his body. He heard a thud and a cry of frustration. A fist grabbed his collar and hauled him upright.
'Get on board, Coldheart,' said The Unknown.
Thraun had reached the back of the cart. Kas and Ark flanked him still, their weapons keeping the baying demon pack at bay. IceWind, bleak yellow and Julatsan, swept out from the roof of the wagon. The TaiGethen sprinted past him and vaulted to the wagon's roof to
join the fight. Denser and Eilaan paced backwards, the latter's ForceCone still under control, still keeping the enemy back from the sky above.
'The roof, Unknown. We need to get there.'
'Not you,' said The Unknown. 'In the back. You're hurt. I'll take the bench with Darrick.'
'Hurt?'
'Yes.'
The Unknown's mace struck again. He ducked a flailing tail, dragging Hirad with him into the lee of the wagon. He pushed the barbarian to the tailgate and thrust him at Ark.
'Don't let him go.'
Hirad frowned. His head was swimming a little but otherwise he was fine. He smiled up at Ark but the Protector's face was impassive.
'Get aboard,' he said.
Hirad thought to disagree but he took one more pace and stag gered, legs suddenly lacking strength. He glanced down and saw the blood from his side staining his leather. He began to shiver.
His last certainty was hearing The Unknown shout for Darrick to get the wagon going. But after Ark had picked him up and he thought he'd heard Rebraal order more ForceCones, everything else was a chill blur.
Chapter 31
Sharyr and Brynel knelt to prepare the ward. They were far from the gates of the college and could hear the sounds of demons whose attentions were mercifully still diverted elsewhere. Next to them stood Suarav. He was the only man they would have trusted to look over them. It was a curious strength they had gained from their ordeal in the library. None of them had truly recovered from it. They all still shivered intermittently and felt the chill of demon touch and proximity.
Yet it had instilled in them a fierce fatalism and brought the three of them together in a bond of mutual respect and belief. It was something that would be put to severe test in the hours to come.
'Attach it to the corner there,' whispered Sharyr.
Brynel nodded. The ward structure was simple and designed for a closely directed effect. Positioned on the junction of streets running away to the broken north gate, to the cloth market, and the college itself, it was a key focus of Chandyr's plan to help the Julatsans into Xetesk. Another key part of that plan was the three of them.
Sharyr watched his charge meld the ward into the building. When it was fixed he fed in exclusions to its activation to ensure no stray human or elven approach caused disaster. It was a quick process.
'All right,' he said, standing and helping Brynel up. 'That's our lot.'
'Well done,' said Suarav.
The three men looked at each other in the gloom of the street. The quiet was eerie and suffocating. Each knew what the others would be feeling. The desire to run back to the college. The dread at what they had volunteered to do. The pride at their own strength and the trust that had been bestowed upon them.
While other trios, some classic mage-defender structure, com-
pleted the ward lattice to Chandyr's design, they would be leaving Xetesk to contact the approaching allies. No one had to tell them the risk they were taking. No one had to remind them of their chances of success. They already knew that Chandyr had a contingency for their failure. It wasn't supposed to discomfort them, it was simple reality.
'Do you need to rest?' asked the gruff guard captain.
Both mages shook their heads. .
