Ilkar turned his head. His face was grey with pain, his eyes sunken and dull like he hadn’t slept for days. ‘Yes, something’s wrong.’ His mouth was covered in blood and where he had been coughing the grass was stained red.
‘Relax,’ said Denser. ‘It’ll pass. Probably something you ate last night.’ But Denser’s heart was quailing. He could sense the others standing around them, no one able to utter a word.
Ilkar took them all in and managed a sad smile. ‘No, it won’t, Denser. You know that. We all do.’
Denser sat back on his haunches, feeling true helplessness sweep over him as it must be sweeping over them all. He could hear Ren begin to cry and saw her rush to Ilkar’s other side and cradle his head against her chest. He looked around at them. The Raven. Strong people. But this was surely beyond any of their capacities.
Hirad was staring at Ilkar. Denser could see the barbarian’s chest moving with his measured breathing and saw the refusal to believe in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was husky, barely in control.
‘Aeb, Ilkar will ride with you. There’s been a change of plan.’
Chapter 46
The Raven followed Hirad because they trusted him, because they would not let him do what he planned alone and because, if by some miracle they were to save Ilkar, there really was no other choice.
They reined in briefly by the TaiGethen. Auum looked up from the trail, took in Aeb holding Ilkar before him in the saddle, and for the first time Hirad saw a gentle emotion in his eyes. He nodded to Hirad in sympathy and looked questioningly at Rebraal.
‘Tell him this,’ said Hirad. ‘Tell him that we don’t have time for him to follow a trail. Tell him we have to know right now if those bastards have taken Yron and where. Tell him he’s welcome to come with us if he can keep up but our friend is dying and it’s become personal now.’
And soon they were all galloping west. The TaiGethen’s natural sense of balance just about made up for their lack of skill in the saddle but still none of them was able to hold the reins alone and all clutched saddle pommels as their horses sped along beneath them.
Hirad spared them a glance, glad that they were with him. His head was full of rage and a sense of injustice he hadn’t felt since Sirendor Larn had died under an assassin’s poisoned knife in the time before Denser cast Dawnthief.
He was furious at the Black Wings for stopping and killing the TaiGethen. He was furious at Yron for stealing the thumb and condemning so many elves, and maybe Ilkar, to death. But mostly he was furious with Xetesk for what it had so casually brought about. Revenge for that would come later. Right now he cared about one thing only.
They tore towards the Black Wing camp, Hirad not knowing what he’d do when they got there but sure he’d think of something. With people coming and going from the camp on foot and horseback, and with the slackness inherent in a non-military organisation, The Raven rode right up to its edge before being so much as challenged.
Arriving at the mass of tents, weapon stands, wagons and fires, The Raven reined in. Three men walked towards them calling others as they came. Hirad slid from his horse and strode towards the three, seeing them falter as they recognised him and those behind.
‘Aeb, stay with Ilkar,’ he heard The Unknown saying. ‘Denser, we need a HardShield. Erienne, ForceCone - something to hurt them, not kill them. Remember who most of these people are. Form up, Raven. Let’s keep close.’
Hirad knew he’d be protected so he carried on, not even bothering to draw his sword. He focussed on the guard in the centre. He was no soldier. A trader by the look of him. Soft hands. He had no stomach for trouble. The barbarian grabbed him under the chin.
‘Where’s Selik?’ he demanded.
Another of the men grabbed at his arm. Hirad turned his head.
‘Take your hand away or lose it.’
‘HardShield up,’ he heard Denser say.
The Raven closed in around him and the hand on his arm was gone, gripped and crushed by The Unknown.
‘You heard him. Now get back.’
The man whimpered in pain. Hirad turned back to his charge, seeing people running in from all sides.
‘Speak. Selik. Where is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ stammered the former trader. ‘Not here.’