Demonstorm

and the songs echoed from the louring buildings.

'Gods falling, Wesmen,' said Hirad. 'Now there's something I never thought to see.'

'Let's hope they're offering help,' said Thraun.

'Oh they are,' said Suarav. The college captain had fought quietly and effectively next to Thraun. He was cut and bleeding but still very much alive. 'We'll make the college now.'

Hirad remembered and his relief turned to fear. He spun on his heel and ran to where Rebraal lay near the stage. Erienne and Denser knelt by him. Denser was casting. Hirad could see Erienne's hands shaking. He prayed it was with exhaustion and not grief. He joined them, crouching at Rebraal's feet.

'Oh dear Gods, no,' he said. 'Not you too.'

A trail of blood ran from beneath his head. His face was pale. His mace lay twisted by his side, his left arm underneath his body and his leather torn, buckles broken. At least he was breathing.

Denser finished his casting. 'This is one luck)' elf. He's got a cut on his scalp and no doubt a concussion from the impact. But his mace took the force of the blow, deflected it along his leather here.

It only glanced him or it would have burst his stomach, surely. But when he wakes he's going to be in a lot of pain.'

'Dammit, Rebraal, what did I say to you?' whispered Hirad. 'Why did you have to stay in the fight?'

'Because he's Raven at heart,' said Erienne. 'Because that's what he knew you'd do in his place. What any of us would do. He saved me, Hirad. Think how close we came to losing everything.'

Hirad reached out and smoothed his hair. 'Well done, Ilkar's little brother. Well done.' He looked up to the sky. 'We won this one, General,' he said.

All around him the Wesmen songs filled the air. From the corners of his eyes, he saw warriors pouring into the playhouse and through the gaps he saw them surrounding the building. He heard voices shouting orders and the calls of demons, more distant now.

He became aware of a presence in front of them, standing a respectful distance away. He raised his head. In front of him stood a man with a middle-aged face but whose furs and leather covered what was plainly a powerful body. That face was criss-crossed with scars and fresh cuts. His greying light hair was braided and long, his eyes fierce. He exuded an aura of authority and power. Yet he waited for them to acknowledge him. The huge axe gripped casually in his hand dripped demon gore. Hirad had never set eyes on him before but there was no doubting who he was.

'Lord Tessaya,' he said.

Tessaya inclined his head. 'The Raven. It has been a meeting long in the making.' He frowned and looked hard at Hirad. 'We have all lost brothers. Your loss pierces you. It is written on you as plain as script. Which of you has fallen?'

'A great man,' said Hirad. 'General Darrick.'

'Ahh.' There was genuine regret in Tessaya's voice. 'He, I respected above most men though his actions caused the Wesmen such pain. I wish we could have spoken together. I am saddened by his passing. The Spirits will keep him.'

'His body is still on the street. We can't leave it there,' said Hirad, turning to The Raven. 'We need it. We have a ritual to perform.'

'No,' said Tessaya. 'You cannot.'

'You don't understand,' said Hirad, keeping himself firmly in check. 'He's Raven. We owe him respect.'

Tessaya placed a gentle hand on Hirad's shoulder. 'No,' he repeated. 'It does not matter where he fell, you cannot get to him. The demons are gone but merely to regroup. They will be back and we must make the college grounds before they do. If you stray they will take you.'

'Unknown?' Hirad looked to die big man. 'He's only on The Thread. Just a litde way north.' The Unknown bit his lip and shook his head.

'Then he is behind us and he is lost,' said Tessaya. 'The demons have the north of the city, everything beyond this building.' He glanced around him. Most of the ATArynaar were standing still, plainly without the energy to do anything else. 'Your forces are exhausted. Consign his Spirit through prayer and he will find his way. But you must come now. The storm is building again outside. The Wesmen will guard you all. Run amongst us. And have your mages keep the demons from over our heads.' He allowed himself a small smile. T may detest magic but I concede it has its uses. Particularly today.'

'Unknown?' asked Hirad again. 'Darrick's so close.'

'Not this time, Hirad,' he said. 'We can't risk losing more of us to find him. Look inside yourself. Remember why we are here and what we have to do. You know I'm right.'

Hirad rubbed a hand over his chin, determined not to break in front of Tessaya. T know, I know,' he said, though the words dragged reluctandy from his mouth. He could feel his cheeks burning. His fury, pent up. His frustration at boiling point. 'Tell you something, Unknown, I've had it with these demons. I've had it with enemies destroying my country and killing my friends. Think I was angry before? That was nothing. Nothing. Let's make these bastards regret the day the first of them ever dared breathe our air.'

 

 

Chapter 39

 

The attacks had been incessant ever since the Wesmen and their charges had burst through the rubble and broken timbers of the college gates. Tessaya had seen The Raven, the wounded and the exhausted back into the heart of his former nemesis, leaving his tribal commanders to organise and defend.

He had received unexpected but very welcome help from the elven mages who began by keeping overhead their defensive shields and then delivering the castings they called ColdRooms.

Tessaya didn't know how they worked. He didn't much care. What he did know was that the spell rendered the demons vulnerable to sword and axe and his warriors could kill at last.

The realisation had fired the tribes and the first battle had been a short, intense slaughter. The quick winged demons were more resilient than the lumbering karron but all fell to the released frustration of a Wesmen army previously impotent to inflict anything more than temporary disability.

Gallons of demon blood had washed the stone flags of the college courtyard, mixed with mere splashes of their own, before the demons had withdrawn. The Wesmen songs had begun then and had barely let up since. This was not just victory over the demons, this was the knowledge of where they stood as masters. Tessaya slapped his Shaman, Arnoan, on the back and laughed as he listened.

'Hear that? Today, we have met our destiny.'

'You are being a little premature,' said Arnoan. 'We have not beaten the demons yet.'

'But when we do, we will be standing as victors in the heart of the Dark College. It is surely a matter of time.'

Arnoan frowned. 'The Spirits would have it another way. They are scared and under threat. There is more to this than you or I can see.'

Tessaya looked above him at the towers of Xetesk where his erstwhile enemies gazed out over the Wesmen in their midst. He turned his eyes to the sky where the borders of the invisible Cold-Room shell were marked by the demons that travelled its outer surface. There were those that waited their moment to attack at speed; and those who sought the location of the casting and directed the attacks on the mages they divined.

Four incursions were under way that he could see from his part-covered position near the barracks. All from reavers trying to snatch the elven mages. His warriors guarded them. Dragged the enemies from the sky. Split their skulls and tore off their wings. It was the Wesmen way.

On the ground the karron stood mute. Tessaya could see diem through the holes they had torn in the walls and the gates they had destroyed before the ColdRooms had pushed them back outside the college grounds. They were strong in attack but weak in body. They succumbed so quickly to the effects of the ColdRooms. 'Lesser' the elf Rebraal termed them. Tessaya agreed.

'You worry too much,' said Tessaya. 'The Spirits are far from us and their minds are confused more than they are clear. Look at the demons now. Futile, isn't it? Why don't they use all their force to attack, do you think? They outnumber us by ten to one at the very least. It's because they know that in here we can beat them. They don't fight well. They rely on fear and we are not afraid.'