But Hirad had expected him before now. So long out of contact with the big man and he was beginning to fear something had happened to him. They had little news from Balaia - what they did get was through the incomplete knowledge of the Protectors - but none of it was good.
‘Your loyalty is commendable,’ said Sha-Kaan.
‘He’s Raven,’ said Hirad, shrugging and standing. ‘Time to check the sea for ships anyway.’
The truth was, he wanted to be alone for a moment. Only a season and Nos-Kaan would be dead. With the best will in the world, the research wouldn’t have led to meaningful realignment spells by then. Nos-Kaan’s grave was going to be Herendeneth.
He walked quickly down the slope, giving Erienne a wide berth and breaking into a trot as he passed the shored-up front doors of the house. The Protector, Aeb, stood at the entrance, unmoving, staring out northwards. Hirad nodded to him as he passed.
The single path down to the island’s only landable beach wove through waving beech groves to the small, reefed inlet. It was a peaceful walk. The warm breeze through the trees rustled leaves; the calls of birds on the wing filtered through the branches as did the distant sound of waves on the shore. Despite what he’d just heard, Hirad found himself smiling. He turned a corner and it dropped from his lips.
‘Gods burning,’ he whispered, reaching instinctively for the blade he hadn’t worn in a hundred days. He backed up the path.
Coming towards him were robed and cloaked men. Two dozen, maybe more. Mages. And where there were mages, there would be soldiers.
‘Aeb!’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Darrick! We’re under attack!’
One of the mages held out his hands towards Hirad. Casting, surely. Caught unable to run and hopelessly outnumbered, Hirad did the only thing he could. He attacked. Yelling to clear his mind, he flew at the mage, fists bunched, braided hair streaming out behind him.
‘Hirad! Gods’ sake calm down!’ came a voice from beyond the group of mages, who had stopped and were looking at him in some alarm.
Hirad slid to a stop a few yards from them, kicking up dust.
‘Unknown?’
He looked harder. The unmistakable shaven head was approaching, a woman at his side, Protectors around him. Lots of them. Relief flooded through Hirad and he blew out his cheeks.
‘Gods drowning, you had me scared,’ he said.
The mages parted and The Unknown walked through, his limp pronounced, a look of discomfort on his face.
‘It’s good to see you,’ said The Unknown, crushing Hirad in an embrace.
‘And you, Unknown. You’re looking pale though. Brought the family to pick up some colour, have you?’
The Unknown laughed as he released Hirad, stepping back. Diera, her long fair hair tied back and strong beautiful face pale, came up to his side, Jonas squirming in her arms as he tried to see everything all at once. He fixed Hirad with a wary stare which the barbarian returned with a chuckle. The Unknown enveloped his family in one arm, pulling them close.
‘Well, we’ve not had the luxury of relaxing in the sun these last two seasons,’ he said. ‘Unlike you, apparently.’
‘It’s not been quite like that,’ said Hirad.
‘I’m sure it hasn’t,’ said The Unknown.
‘I’m forgetting my manners,’ said Hirad. He leant forward and kissed Diera on the cheek then stroked Jonas’s head. ‘Good to see you, Diera. I see Jonas has got his father’s hair sense.’
Diera smiled and looked down at her son’s completely bald head. ‘Hirad, he’s not a year old, poor little boy. He had plenty of hair a season ago.’
Hirad nodded. ‘It’ll grow back, young man,’ he said to Jonas. ‘Probably. And how are you, Lady Unknown? Looking a bit tired if I may say.’
‘Sea travel didn’t agree with me,’ she said.
‘You should talk to Ilkar then. He’s our expert on shipboard vomiting.’
‘Hirad, you’re disgusting,’ admonished Diera gently. ‘I just need a place to sleep that doesn’t move about.’
‘I expect we can find you somewhere.’ Hirad looked back to The Unknown, tilting his head at the massed Protectors and Xeteskian mages.
‘So what’s going on?’ he asked. ‘Bit more than a research party, isn’t it?’
The Unknown’s humour faded and he shook his head.
‘Much more,’ he said. ‘Look, we can’t stay here. There’s work for The Raven on Balaia.’
‘Calaius first, I think.’ Hirad showed the way up the path with a last look at the Xeteskians. ‘Ilkar’s not going to like this. Come on; let’s get you up to the house.’