'Now!'

Ilkar ducked. Hirad's sword powered round, blocking the downward strike and sending the guard off balance. Hirad stepped over Ilkar and thumped a fist into the man's face. He staggered back a pace.

'ShadowWings and go, Ilkar!'

'They'll come from behind us, Hirad.'

'I'll hold them. Go.'

'No.'

Hirad slashed again, the Black Wing blocking but only just.

'Trust me, and don't lose sight of me. Now get lost.'

He stepped up and crashed his sword through the enemy's neck. The man teetered and pivoted over the rail.

'Fish food,' growled Hirad. 'Who's next?'

Behind him, he heard Ilkar deploy the wings and leave the deck.

'Hirad, they're on you,' he shouted.

Hirad put his back against the wall of the aft cabins. Black Wings were filtering down the rail from his right. He could see crossbow-men behind him.

'Don't you lose me, Ilkar!' he yelled into the night, praying that the elf was watching him.

'Drop your weapon!' ordered a Black Wing.

Hirad smiled. T don't think so,' he said.

He stepped forwards and dived over the rail, sword ahead of him, and splashed into the sea.

The freezing water enveloped him, the waves huge and dark surrounding him. He broke surface briefly, kicking his legs, feeling his injured calf protesting as the salt edged in. He scoured the sky but could see nothing. The Ocean Elm moved gently away from him and he was lifted by another wave. The wind roared in his ears, he could feel more hail lashing down and he felt heavy. Very heavy.

He knew he should let go his sword and try to shed his leather but something inside him refused. He submerged again, water piling over on him, the storm singling him out as its next victim. He kicked again, feeling the air on his face and grabbing in another lungful.

'Ilkar!' he shouted into the gale.

He scrabbled at his back, sinking again, fighting to got his sword into his scabbard, knowing it was stupid, knowing he could afford to lose it, but having to free both his hands. He was going down but he refused to die. And there it was, like the feel of silk on the body of a woman, his sword slipping down into the leather. He swam for the surface, breaking clear and shouting again for his friend.

He looked up and there was Ilkar, diving out of the night with the hail.

'Grab my legs. Don't you let go.'

Ilkar hovered above him, trying to get close enough as the wind buffeted him and the waves splashed over his legs. Hirad grabbed and missed, kicked his legs and grabbed again, this time, catching hold with one hand.

'Go!' he shouted and Ilkar started to rise. He swung with his left arm and caught the toe of Ilkar's boot as the mage climbed high above the waves.

Hanging on for his life he climbed up Ilkar's legs inch by tortuous inch, stopping only when he had his head jammed just above the elf s knees and his arms locked around his calfs. He could see other shapes around him. Denser and Erienne.

He took a look back towards the ship, searching for pursuit from the Dordovan mages but knew that they'd have been lost to sight almost instantly. They were clear and no one who left the deck would have any real idea where to fly to find them.

'We did it!' he yelled. 'We bloody did it!'

Whooping his joy he hung on for the flight back to the Calaian Sun.

Chapter 31

The skipper of the Ocean Elm felt a deep satisfaction. His ship was not his own, too many of his crew had been murdered and he was trying to ride out the worst storm he'd ever experienced in the Southern Ocean, but he felt a sense of overriding peace.

He'd just witnessed a rescue that should have had no chance of success but for the fact that it had been carried out by The Raven. The man he had seen laying out Selik with a single punch had simply not believed he could fail.

And, in the midst of it all, on a ship occupied by Black Wings, he and his crew were free. With Erienne gone, they could choose their fate. And choose it, they would. Tryuun had seen The Raven mages clear the ship, pluck the warrior from the sea and disappear into the night, the crossbowmen and Dordovan mages having no targets to aim at as the blackness swallowed them up. And seven more Black Wings were dead. As the hail thundered down on to his thick leather skullcap, it was turning into a wonderful night.

But better was coming up the ladder to the wheel deck. The skipper was alone there at the moment, having sent his new helmsman from what could easily be harm's way in the aftermath of the rescue. For himself, though, he felt no threat to his life and he smiled broadly as Selik dragged himself to the top of the ladder and limped towards him, a bruise growing on one side of his jaw and a lump the size of an egg dominating his temple on the other.

'Need a hand?' he asked, sparing Selik a quick glance and half smile.

Selik pushed an angry face into his.

'Don't forget who is running this ship,' he spat.

'No,' said the skipper. 'The Guild of Drech have always done so.

All you had to do was guard one woman and you failed even to do that. How does it feel?'

Selik grabbed the neck of his coat. 'Your taunting will get you killed, elf, slowly. You and your crew. Remember who has all the weapons and all the magic'

The skipper sobered but he couldn't keep the smile from his face entirely. T will.'

'Now you will keep this ship heading for Ornouth. Any deviation and your crew will suffer.'

The skipper laughed. 'Oh, Black Wing, how little you understand. I have no intention of sailing anywhere else. Ornouth is where we belong. You will be the strangers there. And now Erienne is gone, the deal is different. Before I was taking you there to kill. Now, I'm taking you there to die.'

Though her mind still recoiled from memories of the Black Wings, Erienne worked through the rest of the night, her enforced rest from magic leaving her stamina strong. She was desperate for the warm embrace of Denser but there was one man who needed her more.

The Unknown Warrior's hip bone had shattered like a vase dropped on stone. Bone splinters had invaded flesh and muscle, tendon and ligament were slashed and dying, and the joint was a lattice of cracks that would hold no weight and allow no movement. The pain, even through his spell-induced sleep, must have been terrible.

Tears had fallen from her eyes as she probed the appalling damage with mind and gentle fingers. She would have said there was nothing to be done, not even with a BodyCast but the look in Hirad's eyes as he asked her if she could help would live with her forever. He had come to rescue her and she could not let him down. He wouldn't even have the bolt removed from his calf until she had said she would try. He had kissed her then, his rough face against her cheek. It had been a display of emotion she thought beyond him but that was an unfair assessment. The barbarian hid his feelings beneath his tough warrior skin when he could, but they ran as deep as any man's. Perhaps deeper than most.

She created the shape of the BodyCast, a spell of tremendous

versatility but so difficult to control. It was heat-driven, it covered her hands in a beautiful warmth and, as she probed The Unknown's hip again, tendrils snaked away to soothe infected flesh at her bidding while she concentrated on the main problem.

Using the mana to free each splinter in turn, she moved them back towards the top of the thigh bone, arranged in front of her as pieces in a child's puzzle. She used the spell to examine them, define their edges and divine where they had come from. And any that were too small, she teased out to drop on to the bloodied sheet, hoping the bone would grow again in time.

But time was something in short supply. She was keenly aware that there was more fighting to come. Dordovans would soon find their way to Herendeneth and she needed The Unknown to be standing with The Raven when they did.