'And I know how the world turns, Tessaya. And the problems you face are far more severe than any you have faced thus far.'
Tessaya raised his eyebrows. 'Really? How so?'
'Tell me. Do you truly believe in the strength of the Spirits?'
'They have influence over the hearts and minds of the Wesmen,' he conceded. 'They are wise and have helped us in difficult times past.'
'And if they were no longer there, my Lord, what then?'
'Then we would have to seek our path in this world without the guidance of our dead,' said Tessaya after a pause.
'No, Tessaya. Because there would be no path for us. The demons would take it from us.'
Tessaya laughed but he felt a moment's anxiety. 'They cannot touch us. The Easterners are weak and their souls are taken easily. Ours not so.'
Arnoan leaned forward and gripped Tessaya's arm hard. 'We only resist because the Spirits protect us, you know that.'
'And they always will.' Tessaya looked down at Arnoan's hand. The Shaman did not relax his hold.
'Should the demons defeat the East, they can strike west or south without opposition. They desire passage to the Spirit world from this one.'
'How?'
'That I don't know but the Spirits believe they will find it here. And should they succeed we are all forfeit to them on a whim.'
Tessaya shook his head. 'This is madness. How can the demons threaten the dead? The heat has upset your reason.'
'Perhaps it has, Tessaya.' Arnoan let go his grip and fell back into his chair. The weave creaked. 'After all, I am just an old man overdue to join them, am I not?'
'Maybe you are. I would not be tempted to think so if you made sense.'
T can do no more than issue the warning that I have been given. The contact is never transparent, Tessaya, you know that.'
Tessaya threw up his hands. 'But isn't it part of the Shaman's art to decipher the jumble they receive?'
'And it is a miracle we understand as much as we do.'
'Tell me what it is you must.'
'You must prepare, Lord Tessaya. A battle is coming and help will appear from an unbidden angle.'
'Is that it?' Tessaya pushed a hand through his hair.
'The Spirits are in ferment, Tessaya. They fear the invaders and so should you. They have to be repelled. All I know is that you will not be alone in your struggle.'
During the night that followed, Tessaya slept little. His mind was plagued by visions he could not begin to understand. He did not know whether it was the Spirits who talked to him or if it was his own mind churning over Arnoan's words. When morning came, he could not deny that the Shaman had shaken him, but he had no answers.
He went to the temple to pray before returning to the East and Xetesk.
It was a sight that no dragon had ever thought to see. Not Skoor, Veret, Gost, or Stara. And least of all Kaan or Naik. A sight that would have fired the breath of the ancients. But so it happened and word of mouth did so much more than their entreaties ever could.
Sha-Kaan and Yasal-Naik, flying wing to wing. Allied if not friends. Carrying a simple message. A plea.
The Great Kaan's feelings were mixed. The cessation of hostilities between the two mightiest broods of Beshara was a triumph but left him deeply dissatisfied in spirit. He knew Yasal would be feeling the same. Both would have preferred the other's capitulation and extinction. So it was with warring broods.
Yet linked to his deep-seated unease, Sha-Kaan could not shift the feeling that he had embarked on a task of soaring magnitude. A task that would secure, if it was successful, the survival of dragons. Which broods would prosper beyond that survival, he could not begin to guess.
'Does it not concern you, Sha-Kaan, that broods might pledge
their support then not deliver it when the time came? It would leave such broods with an overwhelming advantage in Beshara.'
Sha-Kaan regarded Yasal with his left eye. The pair were flying south across the great ocean, the aquatic Brood Veret their destination. For this meeting they had no need of escort and flew unaccompanied in the upper thermals.
'It is something I had assumed you would consider, Yasal,' he said, not unkindly. 'Indeed I would have been disappointed if you had not. But it is exactly that which we must counter in the minds of the brood leaders.'
'Might they not also consider this an elaborate ruse on our part to gain dominion?'
'Yasal, if you still harbour such issues yourself, then speak them openly, not from behind another's mouth.'
Yasal grumbled in his throat. 'Not all of my brood believe you. None of them trust you even as far as I have chosen to do for now. How will you . . .we, answer them?'
Sha-Kaan sighed. 'It is simple. I will lead by example and so will you. All but those who must remain in my Broodlands will fly with me. There will be no defence because there is no point. My brood will go first to the battle. If others choose not to follow but remain to destroy my home then they will be killing themselves for the briefest satisfaction. That is my belief and I back it with the lives of all those I rule. This is not a gamble. If we are not together, we will all perish.'
Yasal-Naik said nothing but Sha-Kaan caught die change of scent on the breeze and saw the deferential tip of his wings.
'I need you by me, Yasal-Naik.'
'I will be there, Great Kaan.'
Below them, the bass-throated calls of the Veret floated up to them and they began their descent towards the ocean.
By the time The Raven were called to dinner, Blackthorne had regained his composure. They sat around one end of the grand banqueting table in the central hall of the castle to eat. The tapestries still depicted glorious deeds past; the arches still flew to balconied heights and the fires roared in nearby grates to ease the chill of
evening. But in every other way, this was most unlike the celebration of a meeting of old friends.
They could not spare the candles for anything more than light by which to eat. The kitchen duty staff brought through the meagre platters themselves-, and the quiet of the castle told them everything about the paucity of people Blackthorne had at his disposal.
In front of him, Hirad saw green vegetables, a sprinkling of chicken, and potatoes. Not exactly a Blackthorne feast of old but a step up from the broth he was assured they ate most other times. Still, they all had enough to satisfy them. And while they ate, they talked.
Blackthorne's eyes gleamed dark in the candlelight and his expression was set with a grim smile.
'This feast you enjoy is in honour of the return of The Raven,' he said. 'And the elves we are humbled to count among our friends. But for the life of me, I have absolutely no idea why it is you are here.'
'News, advice and weapons,' said Darrick.
'Yes, but really,' replied Blackthorne. 'Plenty of stories have surfaced as you might expect. We are led to believe you slaves to the demons; mastering the resistance; living with dragons; and hiding on Calaius. It is clearly none of these.'