Elfsorrow Part 8

'What do you mean?'

'Well, it's just that it's unlike you to be so thick, that's what.'

'Thanks for being so tactful.'

'Sorry.' Hirad smiled. 'Look, Aeb is Denser's Given Protector, and anyway The Unknown likes him and needs him to fight on his left; that's why he's here. And, let's face it, his communication with the other Protectors is hardly going to be independent, is it? Any information they get will be from the Xeteskian mages.'

'I suppose.'

Ilkar turned and leaned his back against the rail. Hirad was right; he didn't feel clear-headed at all. And of course everything the barbarian said made perfect sense. He shook his head ruefully and looked about him. So, here they all were again, but it didn't feel quite right, not yet anyway. And the reason for that was clear enough and was surely why The Unknown was so keen that Erienne and Thraun were on the s.h.i.+p.

It was because they were travelling with people who would never be true members of The Raven. Ilkar could remember clearly when Thraun came to the group. Even though he had been a stranger, there was somehow no doubt he was one of them. To a certain extent, the same was true of Darrick, though he would have to learn to open up more. But Aeb, well, he wasn't Raven. He was a Protector first and that was wrong. The same went for Ren. She was with them because she loved him, was a Calaian elf, an archer of consummate skill and a useful fighter. But she didn't understand what being in The Raven meant. Her loyalty to the Guild of Drech, who looked after the Al-Drechar, was no training for the total belief she had to be able to show in The Raven to be one of them. The problem she had at the moment was that she thought the two were similar.

What made Ilkar anxious, despite his personal feelings for her, was that he knew she wouldn't have been invited to join Balaia's foremost mercenary team in normal circ.u.mstances. And that made Hirad and The Unknown particularly uncomfortable. Ilkar could see some difficult times ahead.

He sighed and turned back to the rail. The Unknown was to his left, still waving to Diera and Jonas who were watching from the beach. Another tearful parting. He patted the big warrior on the shoulder.

'Don't worry. We'll be back soon enough.'

The Unknown looked at him and smiled rather sadly. 'Now Ilkar,' he said, 'neither you nor I believe for one moment that is true, do we?'

Selik blamed the loss of Balaia's beauty on the curse of magic. In a lighter mood he might have added his own face to the losses, ruined as it had been by the b.i.t.c.h Erienne's IceWind six years before, but this was no time for levity.

He'd thought he'd seen everything, but riding at the head of his fifty-strong band of ever-hungry but resourceful men into Erskan, he saw the hardest sight of all. On the outskirts of the once comfortable if not prosperous castle town, two boys were advancing on a girl, knives in their grubby hands. The girl was backing away, eyes wide and fearful, desperate for a way out but unwilling to give up what she had clutched to her chest. None of them was more than seven years old.

Selik ordered his men to stop before riding in alone, looking around for any local men or women who might have intervened. Apparently, though, this end of the cobbled main road into the heart of Erskan was deserted.

The two boys ignored him as he reined in and dismounted but the girl stared at him, not sure if he was saviour or robber. He stepped smoothly between them, s.h.i.+elding the girl, his cloak billowing, giving her a.s.sailants no sight of her. His hood he kept well forward. He had no intention of showing them his face.

'Must we steal from our sisters to survive?' he slurred through his partly paralysed mouth.

'She won't share,' said one of the boys, his eyes sunken into a face gaunt with hunger.

'But does she have enough to share, I wonder?' asked Selik. 'And would you have shared with her, eh?'

He turned his head to see the girl, dirty-faced with short black hair and tiny ears, weighing up whether or not to run. He held out a hand. 'Stand by me, child. They won't harm you.'

Reluctantly, she did so, her hand small and fragile in his fingers. He smiled, happy she couldn't see what it did to his face.

'Now,' he said gently. 'Show me what you were so keen to have to yourself.'

The other hand came away from her chest to display her prize. It was bread, a filthy crust, but there wasn't enough to satisfy one of these tattered children and what there was came covered in dirt and speckled with lurid mould. That they would fight over this . . .

'I tell you what,' he said, trying to mask his disgust. 'Why don't you give me that and I'll fetch food enough for you all?'

The girl gaped in amazement but the boys, who had been s.h.i.+fting about nervously, unwilling to desert any potential sc.r.a.p to eat, frowned in concert.

'Why would you do that?' asked the other boy, a freckle-faced lad with filthy light brown hair and dried snot on his upper lip. He wasn't dressed in rags, it was just that his clothes had been worn too long. They were shabby, but not in tatters.

'Because you are hungry and we can spare food for the three of you. And because I am a good man, following a just cause.'

'Who are you then?' asked the girl, simultaneously tightening her grip on his hand and proffering the repulsive crust.

Selik accepted it and began walking back towards his men, his horse following obediently behind him and the children. 'Well, young lady, my name is Selik and I am in charge of a group trying to help people like you and your parents and all your friends. We're called the Black Wings. Have you heard of us?'

The girl shook her head. So did the two boys who walked the other side of him. Selik felt a grim satisfaction.

'Ah well, never mind. But I tell you what. In order for us to help you and all those you love get better and for there to be more food, when I give you something to eat will you tell me where some people are?'

The girl shrugged but nodded.

'Thank you. What's your name?'

'Elise,' said the girl.

'A lovely name for a lovely girl.'

'Why do you wear a hood?' one of the boys asked abruptly.

Selik stopped and glared at him, and saw the boy shrink back. His face might have been effectively hidden but the glint of his one good eye wouldn't be.

'Because when you fight evil, sometimes you get hurt. And now my face frightens little boys and girls and they think badly of me,' he said, fighting to remain calm. 'Now then, your food.' He clicked his fingers at the nearest rider. 'Devun, give some dried meat and some of that spring fruit you found to each of these three. They are hungry and their need is greater than ours.'

Devun raised his eyebrows but unclasped a saddlebag and fetched out some wrapped packages. Giving each one a sniff as he produced it, he pa.s.sed on three to Selik. The Black Wing commander unwrapped them and showed the contents to the children; two contained strips of dried meat, and one soft fruit, turning to overripe.

'Now, this food will last you a while if you're careful, and I don't want to hear that you have fought over it.' He let his gaze linger on the two boys until both s.h.i.+fted and nodded. 'Good. If we are to become strong again, we have to work together.'

He crouched and pa.s.sed over the food, which the trio grabbed hungrily, mumbling thanks as mouths watered and eyes widened in antic.i.p.ation. The dividing up began immediately.

'And your part of the bargain,' he said, dragging their attention back to him, 'is to tell me two things. Is Lord Erskan still alive?'

'Yes, he is,' said Elise. 'But he doesn't come out of the castle any more. My brother says he's sick.'

'Or hiding from his people,' said Selik under his breath. 'And do you know if there are any mages still in the town?'

There was a pause.

'I think so,' said the freckled boy, after sharing a glance with his friend. 'But I don't know where they are.'

'I'm sure you don't.' Selik stood up. 'I expect they are too ashamed to show their faces. Skulking about at night if they dare.' He breathed deep. 'Now, you three be on your way but remember this. All your hunger and all your pain was caused by magic and the people who use magic without a thought for those it affects. People like you and your families are the victims. If you find out where the mages are, you come and see me and I'll deal with them for you. Run along.'

He watched them hurry away down the main street, their voices raised in squabbles about shares but their conflict over the crust forgotten, at least until their stomachs emptied again.

Selik turned to his men. 'If there is a more eloquent demonstration of the evil we face, I have not seen it. Mount up; we're going to the castle. And we're going there proud and through the market place.'

Chapter 9.

Selik and his men rode slowly through the centre of Erskan, seeing in the human ruins of the once quiet and pleasant town a reflection of all the ills afflicting Balaia. Filth covered the streets, which were deserted but for a few scavengers out on the hunt for sc.r.a.ps they had little or no chance of finding. The Black Wings became instant targets for beggars, of which there were many. Some had been born to it and they now fared better than their once wealthier compet.i.tors, who looked sicker and thinner than those on whom they had so recently looked down.

The market tried to struggle on but Selik didn't see a single food stall. Silver and gold were barely in evidence either. What the traders wanted in return for their cut-price goods were bread, meat and grain. At its edges, inns were closed and businesses boarded up. Those not begging or attempting to ply a trade but just walking about did so with a kind of stupefied expression. Selik understood that too. The pace of what had befallen Balaia was staggering and all but impossible to grasp.

Down side streets, bodies rotted where they had been left, some obviously months before. And though the town stank of decay and disease, in some ways it was cleaner than before. Not a stray cat or dog ran, not a rat scuttled. All in the stomachs of the desperate by now.

Selik arrived at the castle and found exactly what he had expected: portcullis lowered, doors barred shut and guards on the gatehouse battlements, bows ready.

'We have nothing!' called a voice. 'And what we have goes to our people. There's nothing here for travellers. Move on.'

'I want nothing but the ear of your Lord for a few minutes. I am Selik and this is my Black Wing guard. We have food for ourselves and our horses graze the open pastures. Might I speak with him?' Selik's good eye roved the battlements. Erskan's pennants snapped defiantly in the wind, so at least he was at home.

'What is it you wish to discuss?' asked the same voice.

Selik saw him, on the left of the gatehouse, leaning slightly out. 'Restoration of Balaia to its former glory. A subject close to all our hearts.'

There was a short conversation. The man nodded.

'You may enter. Your men remain outside.'

'Naturally,' said Selik. 'And thank you.'

He heard the sound of the portcullis being raised and saw it rise above the gatehouse walls. The doors creaked ajar. Selik rode forward alone, seeing the killing ground beyond the doors lined with soldiers. Erskan was one nervous man.

Riding into the courtyard, Selik dismounted, his horse was led away to the stables and he was shown into the keep. A squire took him through a great entrance hall hung with deep-coloured tapestries, through a single door to the right and up a short flight of stairs. A further corridor revealed four or five doors and he was ushered through the first of them.

'Relax, sir,' said the squire. 'My Lord Erskan will be along presently.'

Selik was in a small cold room. An empty grate dominated the far end and what light came in was through stained-gla.s.s windows in the wall to the right. A scattering of armchairs in front of the hearth was the only furniture bar two small low tables and the Erskan crest above the grate.

Deciding he'd rather be found standing, Selik walked to the windows and looked out. The town sprawled away beyond the courtyard, silent and grieving. He sighed and pulled his hood tight over his head. Behind him, the door creaked open.

'It wasn't so very long ago that I would have run you out of my town, Black Wing.'

Selik turned to see Lord Erskan enter, attended by the same squire. The youth carried a tray with two gla.s.ses and a pewter flagon, placing them on one of the low tables. Erskan waved him out.

'Come and sit,' said Erskan, moving slowly to the chairs. 'I can offer you a gla.s.s of wine. That is something in which we are rich.' A dry chuckle escaped his lips. 'And do take that d.a.m.n silly hood off. I am aware of the deformities it hides.'

Selik swept the hood back, glad for the play of air across his head. He sat down opposite Erskan, who didn't flinch as he took in Selik's smeared left cheek, dead white eye and slack left jaw. He was a middle-aged man grown very old in just two seasons. Terribly thin and frail-looking, his wisps of grey hair were oiled down on a scalp that topped a narrow, long-nosed face with a sharp chin and dull blue eyes. His hands, liver-spotted and with nails bitten down to the quick, shook as he poured the wine and handed Selik a gla.s.s.

'So, Captain, or is it Commander, Selik. What great statement do you have to cheer the people of Erskan?' The Lord spoke as he put his gla.s.s to his lips.

'Captain, please.' Selik smiled. 'I understand your scepticism, my Lord. And I would concede that certain actions of the Black Wings have been, shall we say, overzealous?'

'A vast understatement,' said Erskan.

'Be that as it may, we have all seen these past two seasons and more that our fears were entirely justified. More than that, the reality has far outweighed even my most fervent nightmares.'

Erskan's nod was cautious. 'But surely you are not attempting to justify murder or any of your lesser crimes.'

'Murder is an emotive word.' Selik bristled despite his determination to remain under control. 'I'm only asking you to agree that magic must, as we have always said in the Black Wings, be monitored and regulated independently of the colleges.'

Erskan rested back in his chair. A cloud came across the sun, dimming the tinted light in the spa.r.s.e room.

'Well, I think that might be going a little far. Though a code of conduct might be a good compromise,' said Erskan. 'After all, one rogue child does not make every mage in every college irresponsible.'

'But look at what she sp.a.w.ned, devastation and now war,' said Selik. 'And can any of us forget what has been caused in Arlen, or indeed in Julatsa, by the indiscriminate use of magic?'

'Well, I-'

'Have you been to Arlen, my Lord? Have you visited Korina or Gyernath, Denebre or Greythorne?' Selik's tone hardened. He could see he wasn't getting through.

'I must confess, no.' At least Erskan had the grace to be embarra.s.sed. 'We have had problems of our own here.'

'Arlen has all but been destroyed by the new conflict. But your buildings still stand and your farmers are planting new crops. For you, there is an end in sight.'

Erskan's smile was thin. 'And our families bury their dead daily, they report their sick in ever-increasing numbers but the healers are dead too and the mages have fled. By the time the harvest comes, I will have less than a third of my people alive. And I wonder if there will be anyone fit enough to tend the crops, let alone gather them in.'

Selik took a long sip of his wine. It was a Denebre red, a wine that would soon command a very high price. Denebre and its vineyards had been swallowed by the earth. Erskan's eyes held depths of sorrow and desperation that should have melted the most frozen heart. But the Black Wings couldn't afford such sentimentality.

'Then now is the time to strike,' Selik said. 'To make the mages pay for the blight they've cast on our land. Where are they now, eh? In your hours of greatest need they are all at each other's throats.

'I need men, Lord Erskan. And I need them now. Do you think you'll somehow escape the war here? We have to make a stand. All the innocent people who have died because of the mages must be avenged.'

Erskan frowned. 'I sympathise with you in this, I really do. But all you have to do is look about you to know why I can't help you.'

'Without popular support, where are we?' asked Selik, failing to conceal his disappointment. 'Balaians have to stand up now. They weaken each other every day they fight. We can break their domination, but only if we do it now.'

Lord Erskan drained his gla.s.s and refilled it. The clouds moved on and the light sharpened.

'You'll find men out there with the will, I have no doubt,' he said, gesturing at the windows with his free hand. 'Men who have learned to hate mages, magic and everything they stand for.

'But where will you find the strength, Captain? You want an army but those you see around you are struggling just to keep themselves and their families alive. I will ask no more of them and nor shall you.'

'And your own guard?'

'I won't spare you even one. There are those within and without who would plunder what little we have. If I let that happen, I will have striven my whole life for nothing.'

Selik finished his wine and stood up, feeling his frustration grow. It was a litany he had heard in half a dozen places but he had true support from many more.