Darrick was nodding. 'I noticed. Well, we can do some fitness work on board ship as well as practice with those maces Blackthorne gave us.'
'It won't be enough.'
'Every little helps. And believe me, we'll get fit quickly once we're in action.'
'That assumes we live long enough,' said The Unknown.
Darrick opened his mouth to reply but paused and frowned. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but this does not sound like you.'
'No, I don't suppose it does. But then I've never been about to take on an enemy I'd be worried about losing to if I was accompanied by an army. Gods drowning, Darrick, there are about ten of us. What chance do we really have?'
'On our own, none. That's why we're calling on dragons to help
us and the rest of Balaia to fight. It's why Erienne is training so hard. Unknown, you can't afford to think like this.'
'Why do you think I'm airing this when only you, the Protectors and our oarsmen can hear me? And they can't understand a word I'm saying.'
'You're worried what Hirad will think if he knows you're like this?'
'Course I am,' snapped The Unknown. 'Look. This is going to be really difficult. Like nothing we've ever done before. And I felt lethargic fighting those demons. Really slow.' The Unknown shook his head again. 'I've done nothing but half-hearted sparring with Ark for two years, what else do I expect? The point is, I want you to watch us, all of us. You have the eye of the professional soldier still, it's not something you ever lose. I want you to tell me anything that is awry with how we do things. Hirad will take it from me better than you and we can't afford to fall out. Watch Erienne especially. I don't like the way she reacted last night. She's not handling the pressure so well and we've barely begun.' He sighed and looked at Darrick, saw the understanding in the General's eyes. 'If she falls apart . . .'
'She has The Raven behind her,' said Darrick.
'One day, even that isn't going to be enough.'
'Hey, well let's make sure it isn't this time, eh?'
The Unknown relaxed a little. 'Yeah, let's do that.'
Baron Blackthorne strolled up to the periphery of the ColdRoom shielding and barked for Ferouc. He was used to delay and this time was no exception. He stood calm and quiet until the demon master was in front of him.
The dawn had been chill and the early morning sun was doing little to warm the land. It left Blackthorne almost glad he had no vines in the ground. In these conditions, they would have withered anyway. He lamented the loss of the vineyards and the object of his blame floated before him, his membranous wings rippling to keep him airborne. He was a comfortable shade of deep blue, his skin still. Not for long.
Blackthorne had gathered all his commanders with him to gauge Ferouc's reaction. It was a gamble but, as Hirad had said on more than one occasion, this was a time for gambles.
'It's a fine morning isn't it?' said Blackthorne, adjusting his coat against the cold breeze.
'Every day the air you breathe makes us stronger,' replied Ferouc. 'Your time to strut about your meagre kingdom is short.'
'Ah, but is it? You've not tasted real frustration barring your abject failure to take my town, have you? How does it feel to know a damaging reverse?'
Ferouc looked nonplussed. 'I am not aware that I had experienced one.'
Blackthorne made an extravagance of turning round to smile at those gathered behind him, taking in the protective steel of those closest to him.
'Well, well, well.' He couldn't suppress a heartfelt chuckle of genuine surprise and pleasure. 'This is better than I could possibly have hoped.'
Consternation flickered briefly across Ferouc's features, characterised by a shifting of veins and a modulating of his pigment. T fail to see any cause for amusement in your position.'
'Our position? No, my jailer, you misunderstand as so often. We are laughing at you.' Blackthorne cleared his throat. T would have thought you could sense their absence much as you sensed their arrival. But what's really amusing is that you clearly never had any inkling at all that they'd left. You haven't even mounted a pursuit, have you, Fidget?'
Ferouc snarled, his colour paling dramatically. Veins writhed under his skin and the muscles across his chest rippled violently. His fingers clacked together.
'You are lying.'
'No, I am not. The Raven have gone. Spirited away from beneath your noses, Fidget. That's why you can't sense them. And you can't, can you?' Blackthorne paused. 'But if you don't believe me, search for yourself. I'll guarantee you safe passage around my town. It'll be uncomfortable for you but I expect you'll live. Long enough to report back to your masters that you have lost something you so very badly wanted.'
Ferouc opened his mouth and emitted a high-pitched shriek. He
tore into the air. Blackthorne followed his path which criss-crossed the town. He would pause occasionally, dart to the edges of the lattice, sniff and back away. But largely it was a frenzied movement, desperate. When he landed again, his rage was almost too intense for him to speak. His skin was a pulsing, roiling bright blue.
'Where have you hidden them?' he managed.
'My dear Fidget,' said Blackthorne calmly and quietly. 'I assure you they are gone from here. My, it's as if you were scared of diem being outside your control.'
And there it was. Just what Blackthorne had been hoping to see. A flicker across Ferouc's eyes and a trembling through his body. Fear. The first time any of them had seen it but unmistakable nevertheless.
'You will pay dearly for this.'
'Really? Going to kill more of the already-dead, are you? Please. There is nothing you can do to hurt us further. But we have released The Raven and there is much they can do to hurt you. The world is turning, Fidget, and you have been found wanting.'
With a second shriek, Ferouc was gone, high into the sky, calling his cohorts to him.
'See that?' Blackthorne pointed at the fast-receding figure. 'That is why we must fight on. Fidget knows as well as we do what The Raven represent. We've been divided and kept weak. The Raven can unite us and they fear that more than anything.
'Now, I think you should prepare those under your command. I imagine things might get a little warm around here.'
For fifteen days, the Calaian Sun sailed the southern, eastern and finally northern coasts of Balaia. The view from the starboard rail was endlessly striking and beguiling. Untamed landscapes, stark cliffs and glorious expanses of white sand studded the coastline with the promise of much more beyond.
Not that The Raven saw a great deal of it between dawn and dusk. Darrick put them through a punishing regime of exercise as tough as that to which Lysternan cavalry recruits had been exposed in years gone by.
He had them spar for hours with their new maces; relay-race with weighted barrels; and climb the mainmast rigging using just their
hands. He had them swim laps around the ship when the wind was light; he cut lengths of rope for skipping and pressed longboat oars into service as group exercise poles. It wasn't with a view to bringing great gains in their speed and endurance but for them to test themselves, feel the state of their bodies and give them just a little more sharpness.
And unlike in years gone by, he participated in every exercise, putting himself through extra rounds if he felt he was below standard. And while he drove them as hard as he could, he watched them, fascinated. They grumbled as he knew they had to but every task was undertaken with enormous energy, spirit and determination. They fed off each other. If the battles to come could be won by sheer will alone, they would be unstoppable.
Individually, though, he had his concerns about them. Besides himself, Hirad had remained very fit. His time with Auum and Rebraal had dictated that. But that couldn't hide the fact that he was not a long way from forty years old and just not as fast as he used to be.
The Unknown Warrior's problem wasn't so much his forty-two years but the long-term degradation of his left hip following his hideous injury on the docks at Arlen over three years before. It stiffened quickly in the chill water and relay-running had him limping from early on. That and the inevitable softening gained from two years' easy living on Herendeneth. It was the difference between farming fit and fighting fit and it could prove fatal.
Thraun looked and acted no different. Quiet, withdrawn at times and without an ounce of excess bodyweight. Life on Calaius had clearly suited him.
But Denser and Erienne worried him the most. Their contentment at being back where they truly belonged, in the bosom of The Raven, was undermined by their awareness of the situation. It wasn't that they were unwilling; they would quickly become as fit and capable as ever if allowed the time. It was that he could see in their eyes that they simply weren't ready. Not for the task ahead, not to put their lives at risk as a daily habit and not to accept the responsibility that had been thrust upon them.
And Erienne was clearly struggling to make sense of what she was required to do. It drew her attention away, took her edge.