Tessaya hefted his axe meaningfully. A silence had descended on the complex, punctuated by the muted sounds of batde without and the rhythmic dripping of demon blood from his axe to the marble floor.
'And on what do they confer, boy?' he said quiedy.
'The defence of the college,' said the youth. His face was red with anxiety and he couldn't keep his hands still.
'The defence which I alone conduct while they cower in their towers!' Tessaya's voice rang around the complex. In front of him, the youth jumped backwards. 'Get them down here now or so help me, boy, I will take my warriors and leave the demons to feast on your rotting souls.'
The youth hesitated.
'GO!'
The youth ran through into a curtained passage. Tessaya let his gaze travel around the people sitting in the complex. Some with swords resting on walls beside them. Some plainly mages, wringing their hands in their impotence.
'Is there not one of you with the desire to stand by me and live or die a hero? Yes, that's it . . . turn away. Block your ears to what happens beyond your cocoon. The Wesmen are dying for you. And this is how you demonstrate your gratitude?' Tessaya shook his
head. 'There are those who have travelled the path of banishment by choice because they believe it the only way to victory, Each one of you I would gladly consign there as cowards in the lace of battle.'
There was a rustling of bodies and the odd mutter.
'So prove me wrong,' said Tessaya. 'Stand with the Wesmen. Fight for your lives.'
Movement from the passage revealed itself to be Dystran and the Dordovan, Vuldaroq. Behind them came two women, one an elf, and two more men, both soldiers, both scarred from battle. Tessaya recognised both women and one of the men. All three should have been resting after their ordeal in the playhouse and before on the road from Julatsa. He had heard their stories.
'Lord Tessaya, you asked to see me,' said Dystran, smiling and opening his arms in welcome.
T need support out there,' said Tessaya. 'You have men and mages idle. Give them to me. Right now, Wesmen and elves are keeping you alive. You have had your rest. It is time to fight.'
'Now we need to keep reserves and ensure the sanctity of the Heart. Our involvement will and must be on need alone.'
'That need is now,' growled Tessaya. 'My warriors die to protect you.' He pointed at Dila'heth and Pheone. 'Their people die to protect you. Be visible or we will leave you to your fate.'
'And what exactly do you suggest?' asked Dystran.
Tessaya sniffed. 'Spells will kill more enemy than swords ever will. We have seen that. Warriors will occupy their ul-karron, you must cast to destroy their commanders and their reserve.'
'My Lord Tessaya, you must know that we cannot cast inside the ColdRoom shells,' said Dystran.
'You must think me an ignorant savage,' said Tessaya, carefully holding onto his temper, 'if you think that pathetic excuse will impress me.'
'Now listen—'
'The elven mages stand at risk in the spaces between the castings they have made so we can fight and they do what they can. But they are not enough. Mages must travel outside the college. Come into the back of the demon lines and kill them where they wait the order to attack. Defence alone is no longer enough. It will not give The Raven time enough to act, should they be able to do so.'
Dystran paused and held up his hands in a placatory gesture.
'Now let's not get carried away. What you suggest sounds plausible but surely mages scattered outside the college will be committing suicide, not supporting the defence.'
'And is what we do for you any different? It is slow but we will be overwhelmed eventually. That is, unless we disrupt their chain of command and damage their morale and belief now. Now.'
'I'm sorry, Tessaya, but I will not commit my mages and warriors to battles they cannot win. Their souls are vulnerable in a way yours are not.'
'Vulnerability is no excuse for cowardice.' Tessaya took a pace towards Dystran, feeling his anger infuse his body. 'And that is what you are. You and all those that follow you and do your bidding. Cowards deserving of nothing but my contempt.'
'I will not stand by and let that slur stain me,' said the soldier Tessaya didn't recognise.
'And who are you, hiding behind your ruler's platitudes?'
'I am Chandyr, commander of the Xeteskian armies, such as they are.'
'Then stand by me, Chandyr. Fight for your freedom. You are clearly no stranger to battle. And you, Captain Suarav, my words do not apply to one such as you.'
'Chandyr, you will not walk outside of this complex without my express permission,' spat Dystran. T will not have this man making demands in my college.'
Chandyr walked calmly in front of Dystran. 'Go ahead and hide, Dystran. I will not do so. The fact is that Tessaya speaks wisely and you know he does. All stood here know that your decisions are based on your fear of the order of power should the demons be defeated and you will risk all of us to hang onto that power.'
'Commander Chandyr, I will say this just once,' began Dystran.
'Save it for someone who will listen,' said Chandyr. He tore the insignia from his chest and arms. 'I resign my commission and fight as a free man. And I encourage any who despair of your weakness to do the same.' Chandyr smiled. 'What of your power now? To cast to stop me you will have to place yourself at risk. I would like to see that, I really would. At least it would show some courage.'
Behind Chandyr, Tessaya nodded, knowing this man had true spirit. Here was a man he could respect and trust to fight next to him. Chandyr turned to him.
'Lord Tessaya, I place myself at your command.'
'As do I,' said Suarav.
'And already you are heroes. Come, let us do that which your leader dare not and try to save us all.' He jabbed a finger at Dystran. 'You have until dawn to schedule your remaining warriors and mages to the defence of this college or I will do it for you. Pheone, Dila'heth, I urge you, work with me.'
He turned and strode from the dome,.his heart swelling with new belief and his brain racing with the possibilities. Should they defeat the demons, he would be the most powerful man on Balaia. He roared a battle cry and charged back into the fray in the dying light of a freezing day, his warriors at his back.
'How long is the journey?' asked Denser.
T don't know,' said Hirad. 'But they are coming. We'll have warning, I'm sure.'
He turned his head to the scene outside the cave. Demons crowded the entrance. Some strains he recognised, some he did not. In the darkening sky, he saw reavers hovering, screeching orders at the lesser demons in front of them. He saw ul-karron beating on the face of the Cone; and there were other, smaller wingless demons, completely hairless and pure white. Their thin fingers leeched into the Cone, trying to disrupt the construct. So far it was holding but there were signs of stress on Eilaan's face.
'How long can he hold on?' asked Thraun.
'Hard to say,' said Erienne. 'He will let us know if he comes under serious threat.'
The cave was quiet and warm. They were trying to relax. Erienne had slept for a long period and looked a little refreshed. Ark and The Unknown also slept as did the elven warrior trio. Outside, the cacophony would be undimmed but Denser's casting of a Sound-Bell had shut off the din, leaving them in a bubble of relative calm.
'We know Denser can cast the same spell. What can you do?' asked Hirad.
'Something similar but I'd be loath to try it. I need my strength, Hirad, and I don't need to experiment with new castings right now.'
'But if we had to call on you?'