glazed, pointed skywards as he went, his slack, broken neck graceful with the support of the sea which bore him down so carefully.
Sha-Kaan turned, pulsed Nos to follow him and drove back up to the surface, breaking into the air, his wings thrashing, his mind ablaze, his brother lost after so much hardship on Balaia, his life taken by man. There would have to be revenge.
But as he soared up to just beneath the clouds, neck coiling round, his head searching for the next enemy, one man saved him from himself and his anger.
No, Sha-Kaan, said a voice in his mind. They'll kill you.
And he looked down again, saw the massed mages on the decks of the surviving ships and knew that Hirad Coldheart was right.
The Calaian Sun ploughed on, riding through the wreckage that was strewn across the sea. Sail cloth, baggage, broken timbers, ropes and lines. Bodies. Dozens of bodies. All rippling on the swell, the rain still pounding down.
The Kaan had scattered the Dordovan fleet. Only three ships still sailed and they were all angling away from the battle, north and west. Two mortally damaged vessels subsided into the ocean, their surviving crew frantically lowering any boats they had left and leaping into the sea. A third was also in serious trouble, its sails and mast fragments dragging in the water, its deck tilted at a crazy angle while waves crashed across it, battering the helpless crew.
They could be seen hacking and pulling at line, mast and sail, trying to shift the dead weight that dragged them over. And, with no control over direction, they sat broadside to the swell which was inexorably destroying them.
But Hirad didn't really take it all in. He had watched Hyn-Kaan's death plunge and had seen the surviving but severely wounded dragons dive after him. Now he tracked them high in the sky as they flicked in and out of the cloud layer. His heart was heavy. He had bade them come to The Raven's aid. And now Hyn-Kaan was dead and neither Sha nor Nos would survive a further spell attack.
Fly to Herendeneth, pulsed Hirad. Rest.
We will stay above you for now, came the reply. No enemy will fly to attack you. When darkness comes we will find a hiding place. The spells
burn us still. We had no defence. We weaken with every beat of our wings.
I am sorry, Great Kaan.
Skies save me, Hirad Coldheart. Tour land has brought us to this, not you. The air is bad, the food does not sustain us and we cannot renew ourselves. Good luck in what lies ahead.
Thank you, Great Kaan. You have made it possible for us to win this.
But Sha-Kaan's mind had closed to him. Hirad knew they would be gliding in the upper skies, resting on the wind until they had to land when darkness came.
Hirad looked again at the ocean. The Kaan had done their work. Whether it would be enough, only time would tell. Small sails were up and long boats were struggling to make headway as crews abandoned crippled vessels. Some of them headed for sister ships. Others, lost in the swell with the soldiers and mages they carried, might make it to shore. The Raven had the Protectors and they were worth five of any warrior. If they could force battle in tight confines, they could win.
But mages were what The Raven lacked. Dordover must have sixty-plus left alive. Maybe more. The Raven had three, and whatever the Al-Drechar could summon up. Very little, if Erienne's assessment of their deteriorating condition was anywhere near accurate. Even before any mage battle, though, they had to establish what it was they had to defend. And they had to get there with enough time to make preparations.
There was work to be done. Hirad turned from the bow rail and walked back down the ship. He waved Darrick over from where he was standing near the forward doors.
'Get The Raven together. We need to talk. Make sure The Unknown is there and include yourself and Ren'erei. Captain's room. I'll be there in a moment.'
'No problem,' said Darrick.
Hirad carried on to the wheel deck, pulling himself up the ladder. Jevin nodded as he approached.
'An extraordinary display. They're majestic creatures,' said Jevin. 'We have an edge.'
'But it's slight and we'll lose it unless we push on now,' said
Hirad. 'This is the time to risk everything if you believe in what we're doing. Can you make this thing go faster?'
The skipper of the Ocean Elm noted the progress of the Calaian Sun with pleasure and saw more sail than was wise billow on her masts. Every face had been astern as the dragons attacked the Dordovan fleet. Every heart had beat double time with fear at the awesome, alien sights and sounds. Every eye had widened and hardly a breath had been drawn.
The skipper had heard there were dragons on Balaia, marooned after the Wesmen wars. And he knew they were linked in some way with The Raven. He had not considered his ship under threat and had passed that message around his crew but had not seen the necessity to extend his thoughts to the Black Wings and Dordovans on board. Watching their panic, hasty spell preparation and taut faces as they lined the deck had given him brief satisfaction. More stamina wasted, more nerves frayed. It could only be good.
He had never thought to see dragons and the sight of their extraordinary size and power had been breathtaking. The death of one and the obvious and possibly mortal wounding of the other two had been regrettable but their action had turned the tables. And now he could ensure that Ren, if it was her on the Sun as he assumed, would reach Herendeneth first.
She knew the channels well, and knew the route that had to be taken. What she didn't know was exactly where the Calaian Sun's draft would make passage impossible. The skipper would show her in the only way he thought likely to work.
The rain was just beginning to ease but the mountainous seas were unabating. He ordered a trimming of the sails to slow them just a little, sighted on the beacon that dominated the southern skies, prayed the Al-Drechar still lived, and patted his helmsman on the shoulder.
'Keep her steady, lad,' he said. 'Keep her steady.'
Chapter 34
There had been anxious moments through the night. The rest of the afternoon had passed under heavy clouds, strong winds and occasional sudden downpours mixed with the ever-present sounds of rolling thunder and lightning flashing in the storm fronts.
They were several hours ahead of the Dordovans as night fell and perhaps one behind the Ocean Elm and though any sensible captain would have ordered a dropping of the anchor as they entered the channel of the first islands of the Ornouth Archipelago, that was an option not open to Jevin.
The Elm was not slowing and Jevin could not afford to lose sight of the sleek, fast elven vessel. Neither could he let the chasing Dordovans catch them. And so his crew had a sleepless night, those not directly engaged in sailing the ship being on watch port, starboard, fore, and aft. Plumb lines were swung and dropped to give an indication of depth under the swell, which was subsiding as they reached relatively sheltered waters, and the lookouts kept up a constant commentary on conditions all around them.
Ren had stayed on the wheel deck throughout the night, advising Jevin on safe channels and calming his nerves as the ship sailed perilously close to rock walls to find the best depth, running in the wake of the Ocean Elm.
After the meeting had broken up and the mages had retired to bed to rest and maintain mana stamina levels, Hirad, The Unknown and Darrick had stayed in the Captain's room, mulling over defensive tactics and the strength of their forces. The remains of a meal lay on the table still and the three men picked at the scraps, washing it down with a light wine diluted with water.
The Unknown was preoccupied, his left leg stretched out in front of him, his hand constantly massaging the
