It is free of disease. The people are fed. They can see an end. But only with the help of magic. Who will save these people should you succeed in your sick aim?’
‘Healing is a natural process and cats can catch rats,’ said Selik smoothly. ‘Breed more cats.’
Blackthorne walked forward. He was a head taller than Selik. He looked down at the Black Wing captain and saw a brief fear in his eyes that undermined his air of confidence.
‘You will not hasten an end to the college war by intervening. I want to see magic returned to balance, not exterminated. We must end this war by negotiation and strength of will. And while I am angry that there is war and disgusted at the actions taken by Xetesk and Dordover, I will not condone opportunists like you attempting to weaken the colleges to the point of collapse. Balaia must have magic.’
‘The colleges have no will other than to tear each other apart and damn the consequences for this country,’ said Selik, the fire back in his eyes.
‘And I and the barons that are with me will pressure for peace at every stage. You well know Heryst is a force for that peace and my allegiance is with him. Meanwhile, my borders are strong and my mages are loyal to me and wish the conflict ended as fervently as I do.’
‘The righteous will prevail,’ said Selik.
‘Yes, they will,’ said Blackthorne. ‘And you are not among them. This country has magic running through its veins. It is part of all of us. It makes us strong. You will never end magic, Selik, but I sincerely hope you die trying and before you consign more innocent men and women to their deaths. Now, leave my lands immediately. Any further incursion and you will be taken. Do I make myself clear?’
Selik laughed, a rattling unpleasant sound. ‘I have made my point, I have offered you alliance and now I know your allegiance. The people will not forget where you stand, Blackthorne. Nor you, Gresse. And when the army of justice rides south, remember my words.’
‘Leave.’ Blackthorne turned away to his sergeant. ‘See he leaves our lands and pass the word. They are not to be tolerated here again.’
‘Yes, my Lord.’
Blackthorne and Gresse walked to their horses.
‘So why didn’t you arrest him then and there?’ asked the older baron.
‘My dear Gresse, there are times when you must gamble and this is one of those times. Something must be done to draw the colleges together, for them to unite as they did when the Wytch Lords threatened. And I can think of nothing better than a Black Wing attack, can you?’
‘And the innocents that die in the process?’
Blackthorne sighed. ‘Regrettable. Regrettable but inevitable. Come, Gresse, we have places to be and I want to wash the taste of that meeting away with a good drop of ale.’
Chapter 22
Ilkar’s quick summary of his conversations with Kild’aar and Rebraal had given Erienne new focus. Leaving Hirad to berate the Julatsan for never revealing he had a brother, she, Denser and Ren hurried over to the house Ilkar had indicated, wary of the panther and its extraordinary keeper who sat silent outside. They were stopped at the door by Kild’aar. The elven woman spoke briefly. Ren turned to them.
‘She says you’re not welcome. She says you will not defile the body of the Al-Arynaar.’
‘Tell her I agree, I will not defile his body,’ said Erienne. ‘But if she wants us to help save her village, she’d better let us through now.’
It was late and Erienne was tired. The ache in her head was growing and it pulsed like a reminder, nudging her to do something, fulfil an obligation she didn’t feel. Ren was talking to Kild’aar. It was a curt exchange. At one point the older elf pointed meaningfully at the panther who so far, like its keeper, had paid them no heed whatever. Eventually, she stepped from the doorway, her contempt clear in the set of her body and expression.
‘She says the panther will claw out your eyes if you do wrong to the body.’
Denser looked at Ren with the expression Erienne recognised whenever The Raven were threatened. Utter disdain.
‘It wouldn’t get within five yards,’ he said, and stalked inside.
They went left as directed into a candle-lit and chokingly scented room containing a single bed on which lay the shrouded figure of Mercuun. Kild’aar followed them in and stood to watch, arms folded in silent disapproval.