Chapter Nineteen

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As they follow the road in the dark, James can’t get the death of the slaves off his mind. A tear runs down his cheek as his emotions begin getting to him.

“You okay?” asks Jiron after they’ve ridden in silence for awhile.

“Just thinking of Derrion and the others back there, sacrificing themselves so we could escape,” he says sadly.

“I wouldn’t think of it that way,” replies Jiron. “They were fighting for their freedom, whether in death or in life. No man who has known freedom can long suffer slavery, they are either broken spiritually and are no longer the men they once were. Or they fight and die.”

James rides in silence as he thinks about what Jiron had told him.

“How or why they came to aid us, we’ll never know,” Jiron continues. “I would expect something like this has been planned for some time, seeing as how they escaped their pens so readily. You just gave them the excuse.” When James glances over to him, he adds, “This was going to happen anyway, I expect. So don’t take it so personally.”

Sighing, James says, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” he insists. “If you take personally the decisions of others, you’ll be carrying the weight of an enormous amount of guilt. You didn’t ask them to fight and die back there, they volunteered knowing full well what their fate would be. I honor their choice to die as men, not slaves.”

Taking a deep breath, James gets his emotions under control and replies, “Maybe Perrilin will make a song about them?”

“Probably,” he agrees. “People like songs about hopeless struggles for a good cause.”

“I’ll tell him all about it next time I see him,” he says. He feels better having decided a course of action with which he can honor their sacrifice.

“Now,” says Jiron, “we have to figure out how to get back to Cardri.” Glancing to James he adds, “Providing of course we’re going back to Cardri?”

“Yes,” replies James. “We’re going home.”

“Good,” states Jiron. “By morning we should be at that town up ahead with the bridge we passed on the way down. Somehow, we need to cross it.”

“Let’s push a little harder so we can make it before dawn,” suggests James. “Hopefully we can make it across before it gets light.”

With that, they both increase their speed to a gallop. Over the course of the next several hours, they alternate speeds between a fast gallop and a trop for optimum speed while at the same time saving their horses’ strength. They could well need it when they get there.

An hour into their ride, Jiron asks, “How far away can you sense magic?”

“I don’t know,” replies James, “half a mile or so, maybe a mile. Why?”

“Oh, I was just thinking of that mage you said you detected at the town north of the one we’re heading for,” he explains. “I was worried he may have sensed what you did back at Saragon.”

“I doubt it,” James assures him. “I didn’t do anything very strong.”

“That’s a relief,” he says.

After several more hours of riding, the sky to the east has begun to lighten with the approach of dawn, and still the town has not appeared. Worried about not making it in time, they increase their speed.

It isn’t until the sun crests the horizon that the town finally appears before them in the distance. “Now what?” James asks.

The town still has a garrison of soldiers, a hundred or so from the looks of it. Two stand guard on the bridge, dashing their hopes of easily making it across undetected.

“We could still try,” suggests Jiron. “If you blew up the bridge after we crossed it, it wouldn’t matter whether they discovered us or not. They would be unable to follow.”

“True,” he says. “But something that big would most likely alert whoever was up in Pleasant Meadows.”

“That’s over a day away,” counters Jiron. “Whether he did or not would doubtless make a difference. We’d be over in Cardri before whoever it is could get here to do anything anyway.”

“Very well,” he agrees. “But I’m going to need a moment close to the bridge to make it work.”

“I’ll give you that moment,” he tells him.

As they approach the outskirts of town, they slow to a normal pace so as not to draw attention to themselves. Some of the soldiers begin to take notice of them coming up the road but don’t seem to be too concerned. After all, they’re coming from the south which is totally controlled by the Empire. And what enemy in their right mind would casually ride up to a garrisoned town in broad daylight.

As they near the first building, a soldier hails them with a smile and a friendly wave. “Now!” says Jiron and they kick their horses as they turn off the road. The soldier’s smile quickly vanishes in confusion as he watches them begin racing around the town toward the bridge. He yells something to them as they race away and then raises a horn to his lips.

Rounding the last building before the open space between the town and the bridge, they hear a horn sound behind them. The guards on the bridge look their way and see them riding fast toward them. They form up at the foot of the bridge and one of them calls something to them, most likely a command to stop. When they fail to heed his command, he and the other soldier draw their weapons and stand ready to greet them.

“Do what you have to,” yells Jiron. “I’ll take out the guards.”

Riding hard, Jiron pulls ahead of James and aims his horse straight for the two waiting soldiers at the foot of the bridge. They stand to block his path, one again shouting something unintelligible at him. Just before he reaches the beginning of the bridge, the two guards dive to the side to avoid being caught under his horse’s hooves.

Bringing his horse to an abrupt halt, Jiron vaults from the saddle and his two knives are in hand before he lands on the ground.

The guard on the right sees him coming toward him and strikes out with his sword. Jiron deflects it and follows through with his other knife, barely missing his shoulder as the man twists away.

From behind him, he hears the other soldier approaching and sidesteps quickly just as the soldier’s sword pierces the space he had just vacated. Lashing out with his foot, he catches the man behind him in the chest and knocks him backward.

Pressing the man in front of him, he feints a thrust at the man’s face. When the soldier raises his sword protectively, he strikes out with his other knife and takes him in the belly. Crying out, the man steps backward where he hits the railing of the bridge and then tumbles over into the river below.

Jiron hears the splash as he turns to face the remaining man. From town, a large group of soldiers are on the way, as well as several mounted horsemen riding hard from the center of town. More horns sound as they begin marshalling their forces.

Twisting to the right, he avoids an overhand hack by the soldier and then lashes out with his right knife, scoring a long cut on the man’s forearm.

“Ready!” he hears James yell and a quick glance shows him getting back on his horse.

Striking out with his foot, he knocks the soldier off balance as he races for his own horse waiting nearby. Jumping into the saddle, he kicks it into a quick gallop as he and James race off the other side.

He looks back to the bridge just as the horsemen gain the center and then…

Crumph!

…the entire central span of the bridge explodes outward, throwing stone, horses and men into the air. They pause a moment to wait for the dust to clear and when it does finds that James has created a twelve foot gap in the bridge.

The soldiers on the other side come to a startled stop as debris begins raining down upon them. Jiron watches as a dead, mangled horse falls and crushes two soldiers who hadn’t moved quickly enough.

“That should do it,” he says to James.

Looking tired, James replies, “I hope so.”

Getting their horse back up to speed, they follow the road as they leave the town and the broken bridge behind them.

Two men stand before the large basin of dark water. An image plays across its surface, a ruined bridge and two men on horseback riding away. One man is armored head to toe with a large sword hanging at his hip. Cruel eyes gaze from within the dark helm, rage practically oozing from every pore of his being.

The other man next to him wears a red robe, the hooded cowl hiding his features. He can feel the rage of the man next to him and prays that it will not be directed at him.

Suddenly, the door to the room where they stand before the basin opens and one of the armored man’s acolytes enters.

“Prepare the army,” the helmed man says.

“Yes milord,” the acolyte replies before leaving and closing the door behind him.

“Are you sure that’s him?” the voice from within the helm says.

“Yes, milord,” replies the cowled man. “His magic is singularly unique. We’ve never been able to ascertain why.”

The mage. The bearer of the Star! The one who defeated Abula-Mazki! One who seems to travel at will within the Empire, yet none can stop him. Hate and anger radiate from the armored man with a palpable force as he gazes at the figure riding away from the ruined bridge.

As he turns to leave the room, he says, “Keep me informed of his progress.”

“Yes, milord,” replies the cowled man. Turning back to the basin, he continues to watch the two riders.

Leaving the room, the man in armor sees the commander of his army waiting for him. “Send riders to Kirak and Zuri. Tell them the mage has just destroyed the bridge at Cerinet and may be coming their way. They’re to stop him from reaching Cardri at all costs.”

“Yes milord,” the commander says. He turns to go and carry out his Lord’s order.

Watching the commander leave, the man in armor looks out over the preparations the host before him makes for getting underway. With a vow to his dark god, the man moves to take charge of the army and destroy this harbinger of doom. He must not reach Cardri!

Two hours after leaving the bridge, they still haven’t seen any sign of enemy patrols. They left the road an hour ago, angling more toward the mountains in the hopes of finding better cover in which to hide. They’ll have to follow the mountains around to the south in the hopes of finding a viable way across.

To the north is Pleasant Meadows which holds an army that may or may not be on the way. To the east is more enemy territory, plus it brings them further away from Cardri and home. The last time they tried to get across the Silver Mountains in this area, they were fleeing from a forest fire which James had inadvertently started while battling forces pursuing them from the town of Mountainside. They had stumbled across a rope suspension bridge which spanned a deep gorge and barely made it across before the inferno behind them consumed it. With the collapsing of the bridge, that way is no longer viable.

Over the Silver Mountains to the west lies a giant cloud, smoke from the fires still raging to the north. When they draw close enough to be able to see the devastation the passing of the fire had wrought they realize the shelter they hoped to gain from the forest upon the mountains is no longer possible. The trees are burnt husks, a forest of black spires reaching to the sky.

“Since the fire’s moving north, the trees to the south of Mountainside may still be untouched,” states Jiron.

“Perhaps,” agrees James. “I’m just hoping another garrison hasn’t been sent there yet. Could make things more interesting than I would want.”

“We’ll see,” he replies.

They come to the road running alongside the mountains as it winds its way through the gently rolling hills at their base. Turning south, they follow the road for awhile before James says, “We need to find somewhere to rest. My horse is beginning to droop.”

“Mine too,” he says.

Ten minutes later, they come to where a series of hills rise more steeply. Moving off the road, they find a space behind one of the hills which will prevent them from being spotted by anyone traveling upon the road.

Leaving the saddles on the horses in case a quick getaway is required, they find some grass and water for their steeds before settling in themselves. Taking turns at watch, they rest throughout the rest of the day.

At one point, a rider is heard riding fast from the north. Jiron moves to the top of the hill overlooking the road. The rider turns out to be a lone soldier leading a spare mount. He watches him race past their hiding spot and quickly disappear down the road to the south.

Nothing else of note happens before the sun goes down and they’re on their way once again. Following the road in the dark isn’t too hard, what with the stars overhead and after an hour or so, the moon as well.

They stay to the road as they continue moving through the hills, they need the speed it will afford even though it may mean encountering unfriendly forces. From up ahead, they begin to see lights from a town. “Must be Mountainside,” suggests Jiron.

James nods in agreement as they slow down and approach the town with caution. Before coming close to the outlying buildings they leave the road and make their way around the outskirts.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” whispers Jiron after they’ve progressed a little ways around the town.

“What do you mean?” asks James as he looks around to discover what he’s talking about.

“There’s no one on the street,” he says. “Not even soldiers, and that seems strange.”

“It is the middle of the night,” replies James. “Everyone’s probably in bed or about to be.”

“I don’t know,” he says. “It’s not that late.”

Keeping their eyes open, they continue to circle around the town, leaving plenty of room between them and the outlying buildings. James pays a closer attention to the town and he begins to understand what Jiron’s talking about. Nothing is moving on the streets of the town. The lights coming from the windows don’t even have the occasional silhouettes of those within moving around. It’s as if the whole town is deserted.

Suddenly from ahead of them, shutters of a dozen lanterns are removed and they’re bathed with light. “Stay right where you are!” a voice from out of the lights commands. “Move, and you’ll be fired upon.”

“James?” questions Jiron quietly.

“Wait!” he replies.

A man moves out from the dark, an officer of the Empire’s army and approaches them. “You are under arrest,” he says.

“On what charge?” asks James.

“Being enemies of the Empire,” the officer replies.

James begins laughing. The officer looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “What’s so funny?” he asks somewhat annoyed.

“I don’t think so,” replies James as a shimmering field suddenly springs up around them. To Jiron he says, “Take him, please. Make sure you don’t kill him.”

As Jiron swings down from his horse, bolts begin striking the barrier and bouncing harmlessly off. The officer draws his sword as he begins backing away from Jiron until his back encounters the barrier.

Turning around, he touches it in fear, realizing he’s trapped inside. Spinning around, he stands ready to defend himself.

“Drop your sword,” Jiron tells him, “and you won’t be hurt.”

Light suddenly erupts all around them as brightly glowing orbs appear in the sky, illuminating the entire area. A cry erupts from the gathered soldiers surrounding them. In the light, they can see there are only about thirty or so soldiers surrounding them.

Trapped within the barrier, as well as the display of magic in the sky around him, drains the officer’s will to fight as he looks into the eyes of Jiron. Lowering his sword, the officer remains quiet as Jiron removes it from his hand.

From the back of his horse, James says to the officer, “Tell your men to drop their weapons or I’ll kill them all right here, right now!”

“You’ll never get back to Cardri!” says the officer defiantly.

“How do you know that’s where we intend to go?” asks Jiron, somewhat taken aback at his knowledge.

The officer glances from one to the other before replying. “A rider came through here earlier saying you two may be coming this way,” he explains. “He stopped here only briefly before continuing on, alerting our forces to the south of your presence. They’ll be ready for you.”

“Damn!” exclaims Jiron. He glances back to James who arcs an eyebrow questioningly.

Jiron shakes his head as James repeats his demand for the officer to order his men to drop their weapons. “I’ll not ask again,” he threatens. When the officer hesitates…

Crumph!

…the ground a little way away from the edge of the barrier explodes upward, peppering the nearby soldiers with dirt and rocks. There were no soldiers in the vicinity, James only wanted to demonstrate his power in the hopes of resolving the situation without bloodshed, if possible.

The officer looks at the hole in the ground, thankful that none of his men had been there at the time. Defeated, he calls out to his men.

James watches as their weapons begin falling to the ground. “Now, have them begin moving back that way,” he says, indicating back down the road to the north.

The officer again calls out and his men begin walking toward the north, some moving quicker than others.

“What are you going to do with me?” he asks.

“Nothing,” replies James. “I’m not a killer, despite what you may have heard. Once they’re far enough away, we’ll leave.” He sees the surprise in the officer’s eyes at that. Leaning forward slightly, he adds, “If you follow us, then I will kill you.” His serious expression leaving no doubt that he will follow through on his threat.

Jiron gets back on his horse and watches as the soldiers continue moving away to the north. He glances to James and can see sweat beginning to form. The exertion of continuing the shield, the orbs in the sky and all they’ve been through the last few days are starting to take a toll.

James sits and waits while the men move further away from their weapons. When they’ve gone far enough to suit him, he says to the officer, “Please don’t follow us. I would really hate to have to kill you and your men.”

The orbs wink out, plunging the entire area into darkness once more. On the ground around them, a few of the lanterns that were left by the departing soldiers still give off some light, so they’re not completely in the dark. He was about to cancel the barrier when he suddenly feels the tingling sensation forewarning of nearby magic. Then the feeling spikes and from the north he sees a red glowing blob flying straight for them.

“Look out!” he cries as it hits the barrier.

Magic is sucked out of him in staggering quantities in order to keep the barrier stable. The red blob begins oozing down the side when the barrier suddenly gives way. The red blob, no longer held up by the barrier, falls directly on the officer.

With a scream of agony, the officer is enveloped by the blob and James looks in horror as the red substance begins dissolving his flesh away.

“Ride!” he yells to Jiron and they turn their horses south, riding as fast as their horses can go.

“What was that?” asks Jiron as he bends low over the neck of his horse to gain as much speed as he can.

James is unable to answer as spots begin to dance in front of his eyes and he fights merely to stay conscious. That took far too much out of him.

“James!” cries Jiron next to him. “Stay with me man!”

The coolness of the rushing air gradually brings him away from the edge of unconsciousness. Behind him, he knows whoever was the source of the red blob is still doing magic for the tingling stays with him.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” he tells Jiron when he again has control of his voice.

“Why?” he asks. “What was that?”

“I don’t know what it was,” he replies. “But the magic felt familiar. I think it was another warrior priest, though I’m not for sure.”

“Damn!” he exclaims.

The sound of pursuit follows them as an unknown number of riders chase them in the dark. Suddenly, the tingling sensations spikes again and he yells, “To the right!” They both swerve to the right just as another of those blobs strikes the road where they would’ve been if they had kept going straight. A slight sizzle can be heard from where it hit the ground.

Behind them, dozens of riders can be seen in the moonlight behind them. And they’re closing quickly. “Do something!” yells Jiron.

James is having a hard time thinking, his mind is already tired from when the barrier had initially been struck. “To the left!” he cries as the tingling sensation once more spikes. Swerving to the left, they barely get out of the way before the blob hits the road a few feet from them. That was too close!

An image springs to mind of another time when they were being pursued on horseback and he had created holes in the ground to slow their pursuers. Concentrating hard, he begins creating a patchwork in the ground behind them of foot deep holes that will entrap and break the horses’ legs.

From behind them in the dark, they begin to hear screams of horses as they encounter the holes. The tingling which had been constant since leaving the town abruptly stops.

“I think that slowed them down,” he tells Jiron as they continue racing through the night. “I can no longer feel the presence of magic back there.”

“Think you killed him?” Jiron asks hopefully.

“I would think that’s highly unlikely,” he replies. “Most likely his concentration was broken when his horse collapsed after stepping in one of those holes.”

“Is that what you did?” he asks.

“I hate hurting the horses, but I didn’t know what else to do,” he replies in regret.

“You did what you had to do,” he says, trying to assuage his guilt over what he did to the horses. They ride on for a few minutes before he says, “This isn’t going to slow them down very long.”

“I know. They’ll be after us as soon as they get more horses,” he says. “Which shouldn’t take very long.”

“If we follow this road far enough I think we’ll come to the town Bindles,” Jiron says. “You remember that town we first came to after leaving the mountains last time?”

“I remember,” he says.

“There was a road there going west along the southern edge of the mountains which may lead us to Cardri,” explains Jiron.

“If we can reach Cardri,” James tells him, “whoever is back there won’t dare to continue following us unless they’re willing to risk war.”

“Let’s hope he takes that into consideration.”

James continues attempting to sense the working of magic behind them as they ride, but so far, nothing. Sometime after leaving Mountainside behind them, they reached the end of the fire ravaged area. The mountains on their right again have a full forest of trees upon them, enough to shelter them from anyone traveling along the road.

“Maybe we should get off the road now,” suggests Jiron. “Remember that officer back there said a rider came through and warned them about us. Anyone further ahead will be alerted and looking for us.” Glancing to James he adds, “We don’t want another ambush like the last one, not with that other force hot on our heels.”

“Good idea,” agrees James.

Moving off the road, they begin making their way up the mountain and into the shelter of the forest. After putting a mile or so between them and the road, they decide to make a brief camp. The horses are on the verge of exhaustion and both of them could do with a few hours of rest before heading out again.

Jiron takes the first watch and after letting James rest only three hours, he wakes him for his turn. “Don’t fall asleep!” he warns. He knows James is incredibly tired, but he needs sleep too.

“I won’t,” James assures him. Getting to his feet, he begins walking around the camp in order to remain awake. After his second pass around, he glances over and sees Jiron has fallen asleep. The night here in the forest is anything but comforting. Every shadow, every sound, startles him in expectation of enemy soldiers coming for them.

After what seems several hours, the sky to the east begins to lighten and he realizes he’s wandered some distance from their camp. Using the sound of the horses to guide him, he makes his way back.

Snap!

Behind him he hears the sound of a twig breaking and quickly turns to find someone standing there, arrow knocked and aimed right at his heart.