“I’m sure she would understand,” replies James. Meliana has been on his mind of late. Maybe after this business in Madoc is over he’ll be able to arrange a visit, either he go there or she here.
Mounting, he says, “Let’s head down the road a couple hours before we stop. Don’t want any of his men to seek vengeance for tonight’s affair.” Heading out, he takes the road leading eastward toward the Sea of the Gods. He plans to take the northern route around the Sea seeing as how the Empire controls the southern shore. With any luck, they should reach Pyrtlin by day after tomorrow. It’s a major town sitting on the northern shore and they should be able to resupply there.
Chapter Two
The road to Pyrtlin is a fairly straight shot from Illion, heading mostly due southeast. Traffic is heavy as most are fleeing to the safety of the northern kingdom. From what they’ve managed to learn, the Empire has made probing attacks on Madoc’s defenses, both around Lythylla that is situated to the east of the Sea, and the line to the west between the Silver Mountains and the Sea.
The mood of the people is one without hope for a future for their country. The southern half has already been swallowed by the Empire and by all accounts, they mean to take the rest by the time the snows come in winter.
“Think he made it?” Jiron asks James near the end of the first day after leaving Illion.
“Who?” he asks, not sure just who he’s talking about.
“Qyrll,” Jiron clarifies. Qyrll is a Parvati they met earlier in Cardri where Jiron saved him from an ignoble and dishonorable existence bound to one who used him as a fighter for sport. Though his people are part of the Empire, he and Jiron had become fast friends. Qyrll had decided to travel with them until he could repay the Shynti in kind.
During the battle for the Star in Ironhold, he saved Jiron’s life and considered the debt paid. Just before James and the others left for Madoc, he began heading back to his homeland, deep within the Empire.
“Don’t see why not,” James replies. “Cardri isn’t at war with the Empire, and though relations are strained, he isn’t considered an enemy. He should be able to just walk across the border with little problems.”
“I hope so,” he says. Jiron holds an odd position with the Parvatis. He is a Shynti, which is a rare designation they give to only the best and bravest of warriors. It basically makes him one of them.
“With what’s coming ahead, you know we are going to have to do battle with Parvatis at some point,” James reminds him. The last time they were at Lythylla, the Parvatis were a sizeable force within the Empire’s army.
“I know,” he replies. He hates to think they may kill friends and relatives of those they met while in the Parvati homeland, but such is the fortunes of war. Though the fact that he was a Shynti worked to their advantage the last time they were in Lythylla, he seriously doubts if it would have the same effect as before.
They ride on until close to dark before setting up camp. With this many, it takes some doing to get everyone in their proper position. Illan was most adamant that each of the groups set their tents together in the same area. But as the journey has progressed, so has the ease with which everyone finds their place. It’s almost reached the point of becoming routine.
In the hour before they stopped, they passed one of those traveler’s stopovers with an inn. Though most were hoping for the comfort of a bed, it was decided to pass it by. James doesn’t want to let on, but he’s afraid one might talk while among other people. He would like to minimize their contact until the battle is joined. Less chance of a spy or rumor alerting the enemy of their intentions.
A quick meal and then right to sleep, with sentries posted. James, Illan and Delia are no longer part of the sentry routine, they have plenty of others for that role. Mainly it’s been the recruits with the old timers here and there keeping an eye on them.
Early the next morning before the sun has even crested the horizon, they’re preparing to get underway. By the time the sun shows itself, they are already a mile further down the road.
“Should reach Pyrtlin by this evening if we keep a brisk pace,” Illan announces during one of their breaks to rest the horses.
James nods that he heard while watching Delia working with her slingers. During most of their breaks she cycles through them, working with two or three at a time. Right now she has Devin, Orry and Terrance. Devin and Orry have taken to the sling with skill and are continuously improving both their marksmanship and their range. Terrance on the other hand struggles with just getting the bolt to go in the right direction.
“Again,” Delia says after all three of their stones find their marks. Two hit dead center the tree a hundred feet away while the third flew wide by a good two yards.
As Terrance sets the next stone in the pocket of his sling, Delia comes over and says, “Stay loose. Never take your eye off the target, not even for an instant.” Taking hold of one of his legs, she moves it away from the other. “Keep yourself balanced at all times,” she explains to him. “If you become unbalanced while you twirl your sling, the shot will not fly true.”
“Yes ma’am,” Terrance says as he grits his teeth and takes hold of his sling. Terrance, a younger son of a farmer had been excited when he became part of the new recruits at The Ranch last year. Oh sure, there was a lot he didn’t care for, such as the incessant drills and Illan yelling at you when you didn’t do it perfectly. But he feels like he’s found his place in the world. Farm life had always been pure drudgery to him, unlike his other two brothers who were able to find satisfaction in tending the crops.
Placing his feet just as Delia instructs him, he takes sight of the tree they’re currently using for a target. He takes a deep breath to relax and then starts twirling the sling over his head. All the others have managed to achieve the whining noise when the sling reaches a certain speed. Try as he might, he just can’t seem to get it.
“Just relax and let it go when the time is right, not before,” Delia says behind him.
He lets the sling twirl another second before sensing the time was right and releases the stone. The sling opens up and the stone flies rapidly toward the tree. He holds his breath as he watches the stone arc through the air only to fly a foot to the right of his intended target.
“Damn!” he curses under his breath.
Delia pats him on the back and says, “Better. You keep yourself balanced at all times and keep practicing and you’ll get it.” When he turns to look at her, she adds, “Four more tries then we’ve got to go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says and then reaches down for another stone.
Delia turns to the two others and says, “Four more.”
“We heard,” Devin replies.
Leaving her trainees to their practice, she walks over to where Illan and James are standing, watching her.
“How are they doing?” Illan asks as she approaches.
“Better,” she says. “I just wish we had more time to practice.”
Thunk! Thunk!..Poof!
At the sound of the stones hitting the target, they turn to watch just as Terrance lets fly. His stone again flies wide, this time by a good four feet.
Delia sighs, “He’s simply not getting it.”
“He’ll be good enough for what I want him to do,” James assures her.
“I hope so,” she says. “In an actual battle it might be better to have him watch the horses.”
“We’ll see,” Illan says. “He definitely has the determination.”
They watch the next pass, and again he misses the target, this time by only a narrow margin. He turns to see them watching and James gives him a thumb’s up. Grinning, he bends over to pick up another stone.
When they began their practices on the road, they complained about not using the slugs in their belts. Delia had explained that she wanted them used to different sizes and weights. “What are you going to do in the heat of battle when all your slugs are used up?” she asked them. After that there was no more com
plaining.
“Time to go,” Illan says after the slingers have sent their final volley toward the tree. Out of the four tries, Terrance had managed to strike the tree once.
“Alright!” Delia hollers to her slingers. “Time to go!”
It takes but a minute for everyone to return to the saddle and begin heading down the road. The rest of that day, with the sun shining overhead in a cloudless sky, they make good time and reach Pyrtlin before nightfall.
Finding a suitable spot outside of town, they set up camp. Once all is settled in for the night, James turns to Delia and says, “Take a couple of your slingers and see about buying some rations.”
“Not a problem,” she says. Raising her voice, she hollers, “Moyil, Jace and Caleb, bring your packs, we’re going into town.”
Devin comes to James and says, “Your tent is all set up.”
“Thanks Devin,” he replies.
Delia picks up her own pack as well as several others and with the boys in tow, heads into town. Being a trader, she is the logical choice for this particular duty.
As she heads into town, James walks over to his tent. “You lyin’ piece of horse dung!” Scar’s voice reaches him from where the fighters are bivouacked. He glances over to where his voice came from and sees him standing with hands on hips facing Uther. He pauses a moment to see what’s going on.
“I ain’t lyin’!” Uther insists. “We really were asked by the High Lord of Jearinan to go on a hunting trip with him. You see, it was after we had rescued his daughter from…”
James shakes his head and continues on to his tent. Will that ever end? He has no clue where Jearinan is or if there is even a high lord. Someday he’s going to investigate some of their outrageous claims, just to see if they are in fact true.
As he enters his tent, their bickering continues. At least it’s good natured, neither takes the insults and accusations of the other seriously. James assumes it’s just part of the fun. Inside he finds his cot already put together but not much else. The first night Devin was assigned as his helper, he had practically unpacked everything he brought with him. It took almost two hours before everything was repacked securely. From that point on, he told Devin to only put up the tent and cot, that if he wanted something more, he would get it himself.
Lying down on his cot, he passes the time until dinner has been prepared by thinking of what lies ahead. He seems to have ample time to do nothing but think lately. Since he’s the one in charge of this expedition, no one is letting him do anything. He supposes they would even delegate someone to wipe his butt if he let them. Well, perhaps not that but he’s been removed from cooking detail, sentry duty and all the other daily little chores which must be done. All he has to do is get on his horse in the morning and off at night.
He has a fair idea of how to convince the Empire to leave Madoc. With any luck it will actually work. First order of business is getting Pytherian and the Ruling Council of Madoc to agree to reconstruct the High Temple of Morcyth on the exact spot where it had resided before. That shouldn’t be too hard, if the agreement was to expel the Empire from the borders of Madoc.
The last time he was within the city of Lythylla, Councilman Rillian who was a member of the Ruling Council had worked with the Empire to open the gates for their army. Little love is lost between the councilman and James. He knows that should he still be a member, he will work to prevent any agreement against the Empire to come to fruition.
That is but one hurdle, the other is what the Empire may throw at him once he joins the fray. Aside from the mages and the priests of Dmon-Li which play a prominent part in their forces, there could be more of those creatures he faced in the pass on the way to Ironhold last fall. With any luck, there won’t be all that many of those available or even something worse. He does have some ideas on how to deal with them should they show up again.
He must have dozed off for he’s startled awake when Miko sticks his head in the tent to say, “Dinner’s ready.”
“Be right there,” he says as he sits up. The interior of the tent is dark, the sun must have gone down already. Miko holds the flap open for him while he gets up and makes his way outside.
From the entrance to his tent, he has a commanding view of the Sea as it stretches eastward to the horizon. A few boats are still upon its surface, the lights from their lanterns visible in the deepening gloom of twilight as they make their way home.
“Is Delia back yet?” he asks.
“Not yet,” replies Miko. “Illan said if she wasn’t back soon he was going to send someone to find her.
“She should have been back by now,” he says worried. He spies Illan over to the side near the campfire getting a plate of food from Nerrin who pulled cook duty this evening. Son of an innkeeper, he tends to cook better than most and pulls it more often than the others. Miko they won’t allow to perform this particular duty. Uther said he tried to poison them all the last time. James had to admit the stuff he put in that concoction he called stew didn’t go well together.
Walking over, he accepts a plate from Nerrin and walks with Illan off to the side. “She’s not back yet?” he asks.
Shaking his head, Illan replies, “No, she’s not. Give her another half hour and we’ll send Scar and Potbelly to find her.”
“Alright,” he agrees, concern in his voice.
Jiron is eating with his sister Tersa near the slingers’ area, Aleya and Errin are with them as well. Those four tend to be together more than the others. A bond has grown between Aleya and Errin, and it seems Tersa has begun to join their group. Perhaps because they’re the only girls among all the men. Delia, though a woman as well, is in a position of authority which puts her at some distance from them.
“Finally!” Miko exclaims from the side of the camp closest to Pyrtlin.
James looks up to see Delia returning with the three lads in tow. The packs they’re carrying are bulging from the food they acquired. He finishes the last of his food quickly and hands his tray back to Nerrin on his way over to greet her. “We were getting worried about you,” he says.
“Now don’t be fretting,” she says. “I ran into someone I knew from back before the City fell and we got to talking.”
Behind her James sees Moyil grinning and gesturing with his hand, moving the fingers to the thumb over and over while mouthing ‘yackity yackity yackity’. She glances over her shoulder at him and he stops, all the while putting on an innocent face. James can’t help but smile.
She must have caught what he was doing out of the corner of her eye because her lips curl into a slight frown. Turning back to James, she says, “We bought as much as we could carry. The prices are more than we thought, things around here are scarce. If we succeed, I may start trading between Cardri and Madoc. There’s a profit to be made here.” Despite having put her trading career on hold for the time being, she still sees things as a trader would.
“I’m sure there is,” he says.
Turning back to her helpers, she says, “Moyil, if you would be so kind as to help me distribute these among the packhorses before you eat, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“But I’m hungry,” he complains. He looks to James for help.
“Don’t look at me,” he says.
Crestfallen and starving, he takes the packs from Jace and Caleb and proceeds over to where the horses are tied.
Delia flashes James a grin and follows him over. Maybe he’ll think twice before making fun of her behind her back again.
After everyone, including Moyil who received a scant portion due to his lateness in reaching the cook pot, finishes eating they come together at the center fire pit near the center of camp. There they continue in the tradition James had established back at The Ranch where stories are told and songs are sung.
Tonight Scar and Potbelly are in rare form as they relate a tale of how back at the City of Light when they were but young teens they became entangled in a struggle between two elements trying to wrest control of the l
ess than savory aspects. According to them, they stumbled across an assassination plot of one faction who was targeting the leader of the other.
By means both devious and bordering on the unbelievable, they saved the man, won his trust and had the chance to become his lieutenants in the organization he was creating, but instead passed it over in favor of the fight pits which they had heard about and were interested in joining.
“I don’t seem to recall anything like that going on,” Jiron says as they finally wind down. You can say a lot about their stories, but dull and uneventful are not among them.
“Of course not,” Scar says. “This was before we met.”
“That’s right,” adds Potbelly. “It’s not like events concerning this sort of thing are talked about. These sorts of people don’t take kindly to their affairs becoming public knowledge.”
“That was the biggest piece of trash I ever heard!” Jorry says from where he sits across the fire from the pair. Uther nods in agreement.
“True or not,” Illan says as he gets to his feet, “it’s time for us to turn in. We still have many days ahead of us before we reach Lythylla.”
As everyone but those pulling sentry duty begins turning in, the two pairs eye each other with silent intensity. It seems a rivalry has begun between them and things, not to mention tales, are bound to get more outlandish.
James heads for his tent and can hear Uther say to Jorry, in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone, “You’d think if they were going to make up a story, they should at least make it entertaining.” Rolling his eyes heavenward, he enters his tent and gets ready for bed.
Lying upon the cot, he stares at the roof of his tent as a smile plays across his face. If nothing else, at least things won’t get boring.
The grass covered rolling hills extend ahead of him until they disappear in the horizon. A beautiful day, sun high in a crystal blue sky, the odd fluffy white cloud drifting by. The scent of wildflowers is borne upon the breeze as it brings a welcoming coolness to the heat of the day.
Shades of the past ms-6 Page 3
