Return of the Crimson Guard

Urko's brows now clenched in puzzlement. ‘Mallick? He's left Unta?’ He dismissed the mystery with a shake of his head. ‘Fist D'Ebbin, would you accompany the captain here and coordinate the commands?’

A salute. ‘Aye, sir.’

‘A moment,’ K'azz called. ‘What of your mage cadre, Captain? We may have need of them.’

The captain faced Urko, saying nothing. The old general's face tightened. ‘Well?’

The captain admitted, reluctantly, ‘Squad mages, only, sir.’ And he added, weighted with significance: ‘For generations Cawn has given up its best to the Empire.’

Urko glowered a nod. ‘Very good. Dismissed.’

Fist D'Ebbin bowed to K'azz and Shimmer. Kyle thought the last look he gave them one of silent apology. The two officers descended the hillside.

Kyle's gaze was pulled back to the field. Why that look of apology? he wondered. Ah, yes — numbers. The Imperial force was now twice as large.

The Avowed mages all let out excited calls then, pointing to the field. One of the duelling figures, the summoner of the rift, Kyle assumed, was airborne, wreathed in an argent conflagration. Kyle was still not all that familiar with these contests, but it looked as though this Tayschrenn had gained the advantage.

And should he win? What then? Kyle's gaze edged over to study K'azz. That Cawnese officer probably hadn't even realized whom he'd stood before. And why should he? K'azz was now just another old man, his white hair tousled. He still wore his sun-faded, tattered old fisherman's canvas trousers and shirt. He hadn't even belted on a sword. The only gesture he seemed to have allowed himself was a silver sigil of the Guard at his breast. Yet he clearly was in command. All the Avowed instinctively arrayed themselves around him. While Kyle watched, the Duke's troubled gaze followed not the coruscating mage duel of the plain but the retreating figure of the Cawnese messenger. Yes, he too must be wondering… Laseen gave her word… but that was when the field was more even. Would the temptation to try to finally rid the Imperium of its most enduring enemy lead her to reconsider?

Nait edged his way through the blackened ash of the seared grass, the dust of the dirt and gravel powdered by the incalculable forces competing, thrashing, just above his head. Ants, just us ants down here. And me the dumbest of them. The High Mage was close, manoeuvring to edge the writhing, flailing shape of Yath above into the mar. Close enough to be blown to droplets by Tourmaline's cussors. What a monumental fuck-up!

Nait paused — which way? All looked the same: churned-up, flame-scorched, blasted wasteland. Then a glint of gold through the ash-grey and black. He shuffled over. The Moranth was in a bad way. Thrown soil covered her, disguising the worst of her injuries. As it was, Nait winced. Her back was one burnt scar of puckered flesh and the strange chitinous Moranth armour all melted and twisted. She was lying on a mound — the buried charge.

‘Tourmaline!’ Nait called, his head next to hers.

The helm stirred, turned to him. ‘You return, saboteur.’

‘Your charms.’

A chuckle. ‘You have no idea, little man. But get me out of this and perhaps I shall enlighten you.’

Don't think I won't take you up on that. He studied the mound of pressed earth. His hair stirred to stand and his breath caught as he glimpsed in one of the Moranth's gauntleted fists the tall slim length of an acid fuse. Using both hands he gently prised it loose and only then managed to exhale. Gods below — my nerves weren't going to take much more of this.

He studied the thrashing figure above in its cocoon of blinding, virulent energy, the arcs and sizzling connections between him and Tayschrenn below. The enemy, Yath, was close to the yawning, roiling lip of the rift. ‘Not much longer now,’ he called to Tourmaline. ‘Looks like we'll maybe get to keep all our goodies, hey?’

The banners of power quivered then as if struck. Some snapped to lash the air and ground like whips of flame sending up curtains of blasted earth that pattered down across him and Tourmaline. Nait covered his head. Damn, I should not have said that!