“Of course.” Verdan answered without hesitation. “I will accompany Baird and Magnus, along with a squad of my guards. Between us, we’ll have the strength needed to deal with any small Darjee groups. First though, I will ensure everyone here is stable.”

  Verdan began to do a lap of all the injured, giving each a simple healing spell. Some would need nothing more, and in some cases, not even that much. Verdan hardly considered himself an able physician, and he knew there were a whole host of injuries and maladies he couldn’t assess at a glance, so this was safest.

  With each healing, he could get a rough understanding of the person’s wellbeing, enough to know how much more needed to be done to get them stable. It wasn’t a long process, not with Verdan focusing his magic on the worst of what he could find.

  In the end, they just needed to be healthy enough to last until Branwen arrived or the Kranjir got more potions. He could see a pile of empty vials in the corner where they’d used up their existing stock; no doubt someone was already on their way to buy more.

  “Iacha nercreth.” Verdan rested a hand on the last of the injured who were still in danger. His healing flowed into the unconscious woman, healing the internal bleeding from where she’d been partially disemboweled. A potion had healed the exterior, but a second impact had caused an internal bleed that would have slowly killed her. “Everyone is stable enough to rest now.”

  “Thank you,” Sinead said from where she was changing the dressing on a wound. “Let’s finish our discussion outside.”

  A weak chorus of thanks came from those lucid and awake enough to realise what Verdan had done as he left. As heart warming as that should have been though, Verdan could only think of those captured. “So, what are our real chances of finding them?”

  “The refugees arrived just over an hour ago,” Sinead said softly, her gaze lingering on the door into the makeshift infirmary. “From what they said, the attack happened only a few miles away from the mountain pass.”

  “They will be moving slowly with captives,” Baird said with the confidence of someone who had been in this exact situation before. “If we can pick up the trail quickly enough, we have a good chance of getting to them before they can make it back to their camp.”

  “I might be able to help with that…” Verdan frowned before taking a step back and muttering a messaging spell under his breath. He knew one group who could help immensely with tracking down the Darjee.

  Picturing Queen Adelarna, the Vespa matriarch of the nest that was being established nearby, Verdan sent her greetings and a summary of what was happening. He kept it as brief as he could to prevent overwhelming her, but ended on a general request for assistance. He had no idea if she would, or what she would potentially ask for, but the Vespa could make this a lot more straightforward.

  Magnus and Baird had begun hashing out a general plan while they waited for the rest of the group to arrive, and Verdan was about to rejoin the conversation when he felt the Queen’s response.

  Surprisingly, she was able to send him the closest he’d had to a full response since he’d started using the spell again. Even Kai and Vaijon were able to give little more than impressions, but the Vespa Queen was able to almost reply verbally.

  Then again, when he considered how the Vespa normally communicated, perhaps it wasn’t that surprising after all.

  Regardless, what mattered was that she’d agreed to send Kraujas and a group of Vernals to assist, and they would meet them north of the mountains. A strong response from the Vespa, but Kraujas himself had said that his people hated the Darjee with a passion. Something that was all the more apparent when he realised that the Queen likely didn’t have another Named Vespa yet, so every time Kraujas left, the Hive was vulnerable.

  That was a thought for Verdan to keep to himself, though. He didn’t need anyone getting any ideas.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “I’ve contacted Queen Adelarna of the Vespa. She is sending a group to help us. I will have them scout overhead for any sign of the group we are hunting.” Verdan rejoined the conversation right as he heard the sound of someone running to them. Hopefully, that was Nikau or some of his people.

  Baird seemed lost for words after Verdan’s statement, so the Wizard glanced back, relaxing as he saw that it was indeed Nikau and a group of ten guards. Verdan had ensured that they all had temporary enchantments on their weapons and armour, most of them defensive in nature. Hopefully, that would allow the comparatively small group to go toe-to-toe with the Darjee.

  Verdan waved Nikau over before frowning as he saw a Kranjir runner come tearing past the group, heading straight for him. Verdan had spent enough time around the northerners by now to recognise the Caelin marks of Clan Thrain, not Clan Mhorgain, on the runner’s face.

  “There’s been an attack on our stores!” The runner called out as he drew close, his voice tight with worry. “There are a dozen wounded, and one of the warriors of Gwyll is dead.”

  “What?!” Verdan stared at the man incomprehensibly before breathing in and focusing. “Explain, quickly.”

  The runner nodded shakily. “I don’t have much more I can say. They interrupted a group of intruders and were struck by magic. After the attackers were driven off, a fire broke out, but only in one corner of the building. We’ve saved as much food as we can, but we could have lost it all!”

  Verdan felt his chest tighten and fought down a surge of anger. Looking past the other man, he could see a trail of smoke in the distance, one that was darker and thicker than the others. Not enough so that it would have drawn his eye, but it was there.

  “Are any of the injured in a critical state?” Verdan asked, sighing in relief as the runner shook his head. “Good. Any sign of where the attackers went?”

  “No, once they were running we went back to look after the wounded.”

  Verdan grimaced and was about to ask another question when he heard a hue and cry from nearby, with shouts of smoke in the distance. Looking back out over the city, Verdan saw a second plume of smoke, this one dark and thick enough to warrant a burnt building.

  Coincidences happened, but until he knew more, he’d treat this as a coordinated attack. He needed to investigate and figure out what was going on, but he was also needed with the Mhorgain.

  Caught between the two, Verdan turned to the others. Baird and Sinead were already acting to have some of their remaining shieldguards check their own stores and strengthen the patrols.

  Magnus caught his eye and gave him a half-smile. “Don’t worry about us, Master. You have an oath to uphold.”

  Verdan exhaled softly, realising that Magnus was right. The two things both needed doing, but the Thrain had no one else to help them right now. They needed him to stand up for them like he’d sworn to do.

  Still, that didn’t mean he’d let his apprentice walk into a dangerous battle without support. “I will send a message to the Queen and tell Kraujas to guide you. You can rely on him.”

  “I will.” Magnus paused before sighing. “I suppose I need to learn High Imperial to go with Low Imperial, don’t I?”

  Verdan’s lips quirked with a restrained smile before he turned to Rocky. The construct had been waiting silently, but now it turned to face him without prompting. Fighting down the slight unease that sent through him, Verdan spoke clearly and echoed his instructions across the spell. “Take command of the Legion once it is ready and go with Magnus. Protect him and the Kranjir. If you can, rescue those taken by the Darjee as well.”

  Verdan waited for a moment to see if the construct would react in any way, but Rocky simply stared at him impassively.

  “I’ll have to apologise about this later, Sinead,” Verdan said, turning to an open section of ground nearby. “I don’t have the time to do this neatly.”

  “Wait…” Sinead turned from speaking with Baird and went to say something, but Verdan was already calling out the Words of Power in a sonorous voice.

  “Grym sia drea nercreth dyn!” The Words fell heavily into the world, each brimming with as much Aether as Verdan could fit into them. In response, the ground trembled and broke apart before him as ten slightly smaller versions of Rocky were built from the ground up.

  Taking a breath, Verdan waited just long enough to marshal his magic before slamming the base of his staff into the ground and using every last drop of Aether it held. “Grym dewrd rhufein daur challyn!”

  The earthern constructs shifted as the magic took hold, smoothing the edges and carving a large symbol into the compacted earth and rock that formed their chest. As before, it was Verdan’s crest, an eye above an open book.

  Two five Word spells in short succession was enough to leave Verdan feeling marginally light-headed, but he forced his discomfort aside and studied the Legion bond that ran from the ten constructs to Rocky. A full squad, rather than a small Legion, but they would be operating far from him.

  Nodding to himself, Verdan turned back to the others. “I can’t go with you, but Rocky will act as my champion. May Govannon guide you to those lost souls as quickly as he can.”

  “Thank you, Master,” Magnus said, his eyes wide. “We will leave at once.”

  Baird scowled and looked distinctly uncomfortable, but nodded all the same. “If we’re going to go, it has to be now.”