T think you worry too much,' said Hirad.
'Do I?' Darrick turned his head to stare at the barbarian. 'Think it's plain sailing from here on in, don't you?'
Hirad raised his eyebrows. 'So long as Xetesk lends the hand it has promised. I mean, look at the enemy. They aren't up for this, none of them.'
'Right. And that's what most of the elves think to look at them. Don't let your guard slip for one moment. I'm telling Rebraal the same thing.'
Hirad swallowed his retort. 'You really mean it, don't you?'
'I wouldn't say it otherwise. The demons are not this lame. They're in charge here, never mind what just happened. It is inconceivable that we've broken them.'
'If you say so, General.'
T do.'
Hirad chuckled. 'Lucky we didn't have you join us for your sense of humour.'
'I see nothing to laugh about.'
'Exactly.'
An hour later and barely under attack at all, die Julatsan wagon train rolled through the north gate of Xetesk. The imposing gatehouse edifice, sorely damaged though it was, was the first of many ideal ambush points. Nothing.
'Still sure, General?'
'Don't tempt fate, Hirad. They only need one place, one chance. Keep looking.'
The instant they cleared the gatehouse, the atmosphere changed. The cold intensified. Breath clouded in front of faces, and with no breeze to disperse it, hung in a cloud around the train. The city stank with the scent of fear, death and decay. The quiet set Hirad's
teeth on edge. Not even a demon made a sound. Nothing came from the buildings around them, the streets that ran away into the city or from the college. Not a bird sang or a dog barked. All Hirad could hear was the creaking of the carts, his own breath and the sounds of hoof on stone.
Turning into Norgate Road, the buildings seemed to climb so high into the cold blue sky. Bleak timbers and shuttered windows glowered down on them. Unconsciously, the pace slowed.
'Keep it up ahead,' said Darrick, voice unnaturally loud.
'Can you feel it?' said Hirad.
'It's why we're all whispering,' said Denser. He shuddered.
'Watch for any movement,' hissed Darrick. 'Rebraal, put the word out. Concentrate.'
The demons had gone from the sky. Not a one tracked their progress. The empty shell above them was almost unnerving after so long under attack. On the second wagon of the lead pair the Xeteskians, Suarav and Sharyr, his arm in a makeshift sling, were indicating ward positions. They were pointing ahead at the first crossroads which the train would traverse on its way to the playhouse. That building stood in the middle of the tight Seamstone Square. Once on the square, they would be at their most vulnerable.
Approaching the crossway, Hirad could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He readjusted his sword grip constantly, wiping sweating hands down his trousers. Every hoof-fall was a clarion call for a demon rally. Every nervous whinny or snort an invitation to attack. But still no demons. Darrick's frown deepened still further.
'Where would I do it?' he muttered. 'Where?'
His voice was the only one puncturing the edgy quiet. More than three hundred elves and men travelled the dead streets. Hirad felt his earlier bravado draining away.
'Just one place, you think?'
Darrick nodded. 'And with everything they have got.'
Hirad swallowed on a dry throat. The Al-Arynaar at the head had just entered the junction. To either side, Flame Walls, deep and scorching, sprang up, fifty feet and more high. Drivers fought with suddenly panicked horses. Shouts of alarm rang out in the enclosed space. Hirad swore. He could feel the heat on his face.
'Scared me half to death,' he said.
On the adjacent wagon, Sharyr managed a smile.
'They got the wards out further than I thought. That's good.'
'Would have been nice to have a little more warning.'
'Hmm.' Darrick shrugged then raised his voice, scanning about him to check all horses were back under control. 'Let's keep this tight. Maintain your pace, maintain your focus. Do not give those bastards opportunity.'
Hirad could see the response to the voice of authority. Postures straightened, calls of encouragement bounced around. Swords and axes were gripped with more belief, back to the ready position. The trotting of feet and hoof took on a military rhythm.
'That's more like it,' breathed Darrick. 'Nothing like a little purpose.'
The wagon train drove on up Norgate Way. The detritus of two years' neglect lay underfoot. The collected filth of decay powerful in the nostrils. At the playhouse, they turned right in response to Sharyr's promptings and the FlameWalls burning to the left, obscuring that part of Seamstone Square.
The playhouse was a circular structure with entrances at the four major points of the compass. Around its edge, the square was packed with darkened eateries, inns, shops still displaying gaudy clothes, all topped by two or three storeys of rooms and lodgings.
The sound of their passage was amplified here, echoes reverberating across the enclosed space. It was a sobering counterpart to the silence covering the city. The gargoyles and carved faces gazed down at them, laughing, crying, enraged, desolate. Monitoring the passing of the last desperate attempt to wrest control of Balaia from their nemesis.
Hirad bit his lip. The quiet was picking at their nerves and courage. Every doorway, every window could conceal an enemy. The sky could fill at any moment. There was no safety among the buildings that had once provided security for so many.
'Where are the Xeteskians?' he said, unable to speak at more than a whisper.
'Out of the way,' said Denser.
The train turned left and right to exit the square and start along King's Approach. Nicknamed 'The Thread', the street wound its way to the heart of the city. They could see lights burning in
Dystran's tower in the college, beacons still almost half a mile distant.
Alleys and side streets ran off The Thread all along its length. Some were barely the width of a man. Others as wide as a wagon. All were silent, all deserted.
A short distance further on, The Thread narrowed and twisted around the rear of the central grain store. The Al-Arynaar vanguard closed form. The Unknown, Ark and Kas dropped back and hitched rides on the sides of Erienne's wagon. Hirad noticed Sharyr look behind him and curse.
'Problem?' asked Darrick, noting it too.
'The wards should have triggered behind,' he said. 'Something's dropped out.'
'Or been interfered with,' said Hirad.
'Unlikely,' said Sharyr. 'We—'