Shades of the past ms-6

by Brian S. Pratt

  Illan glances to James who stands. “It’s simple,” he tells them. “I would like your help in constructing a building.”

  Shocked to say the least, this was the last thing they expected to hear. “A building?” another of the men asks.

  “Are we to waste our time hearing this balderdash?” still another says.

  “In return,” James continues, ignoring the outbursts, “we will drive the Empire out of Madoc.”

  The man with the medals and ribbons breaks out laughing, the others look angry at being played for fools. “Are you serious?” he asks.

  “Completely,” he replies.

  “You and that band you brought in will drive out the forces which the alliance has only been able to slow?” one man asks. “I hardly doubt that young man.”

  Lord Pytherian has remained quiet and thoughtful throughout. He remembers the feats James and his band did during the summer when the Empire all but broke through the gates. Also, rumors have reached him of other events concerning him, things which hardly seem credible.

  “What building do you require and where is it to be built?” he asks.

  The general with medals and ribbons turns to Lord Pytherian and asks, “You can’t be taking him serious?”

  “Absolutely,” he assures him. “For a couple reasons. One, Black Hawk here would hardly tie his fortune with a losing enterprise. And two, I’ve seen what he can do. For those of you who don’t know who he is, this is the mage James.”

  Eyes widen in surprise at that. He hardly looks the magical type. “This is the James we have been hearing so much about?” one asks.

  “That’s right,” replies Lord Pytherian. “The one who rescued me, who saved the forces from annihilation to the south last summer, and who turned the tide after the Empire broke through the gates. If he says he can do it, we should at least give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I want a temple built in the City of Light,” he explains. “It has to be built on its previous site, no other.”

  “But that’s currently in the hands of the Empire,” one man says. “And by all reports, they’ve strengthened the garrison there and have all but rebuilt its outer wall. How do you propose to do that?”

  “How is my business,” he tells them. “If I can do this, will you rebuild the temple?”

  Lord Pytherian looks at each of the assembled military leaders in turn. He can see their doubt and has to admit, he has his own as well. “Yes,” he finally says. “If you drive the Empire from Madoc, then we will build your temple.”

  “What have we got to lose?” the youngest of those gathered states. “Either he does it and a temple would be a small price to pay, or he doesn’t and we’re out no troops.”

  “When do you propose to begin?” medals and ribbons asks.

  Illan glances to James and says, “Why don’t I stay here and get an idea of what we’re up against. You go on back and I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Very well,” he says. Getting to his feet, he gives Lord Pytherian a slight bow and says, “Good to meet you again, milord.”

  “You too James,” he replies. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

  James nods and then turns to leave the room. Out in the hall, he shuts the door and makes his way out of the castle and to the plaza where the others have set up camp. When he gets there, he finds Jiron and Delia have already set up their tents, Devin having just completed putting up his.

  “Are we on?” Jiron asks.

  Nodding, James says, “Yes. Illan’s still up there with Lord Pytherian going over the layout of the enemy, troop numbers, that sort of stuff.”

  “When do we begin?” asks Miko. The others from The Ranch gather around to hear his answer.

  “Time for some payback!” exclaims Stig. Stig was one of those from the fight pits in the City of Light and lost many friends when the City fell.

  “We’ll be able to determine our course of action once Illan returns,” he says. “Until then, we should relax as best we can and get some rest. Once this all begins we may not have the opportunity for awhile.”

  “Your tent is ready,” Devin says coming up to him.

  “Thank you,” he replies. “I’m going to rest until he gets back. Let me know the instant he does.”

  “I will sir,” Devin assures him.

  Walking over to his tent, he sees Ceadric already has his men bivouacked and a mess already established. Entering his tent, he closes the flap and then lies down on his cot. He feels bad he’s one of the few who has one. The others insisted saying most of what’s to come will rest upon him and that he needs his rest. Comfort always being important to him, he didn’t argue the point too hard.

  Lying down, he lets the cares of the day drift away as he succumbs to sleep.

  The smell of summer is in the air. All around him the flowers are in bloom and the tall grass is like the ocean as the refreshing breeze forms waves of bending stalks. The rolling hills are alive with animals both small and large, birds take flight and fill the air with their song.

  He stops in his tracks when a familiar sound comes to him, the music of a calliope. Excited, he hurries toward it and finds a carnival nestled in among the hills. The tall Ferris wheel stands majestically in the center with other rides extending outward from it like spokes inside a wheel.

  As he hurries down the hill, the smell of scones and funnel cakes reaches him and his stomach growls. Aside from cotton candy, those are the other two musts at any carnival or fair.

  Walking forward to purchase a funnel cake, he can almost taste the powder sugar. Sure, they’re extremely messy and he usually ends up coated in the white confectionary powder, but he doesn’t care. It’s all part of the fair experience. Reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, he’s shocked to find he’s left it behind.

  Standing there with mouth watering and a feeling of extreme disappointment, he can only look at the freshly made funnel cake on display before him. It takes an almost insurmountable force of will to turn away, but he manages it. Dejected, he walks away.

  Refusing to let his lack of funds ruin his day he puts it out of his mind and walks through the carnival. Strangely enough, it seems as if except for the carnies, he’s the only one there. Glancing from ride to ride, he sees that though they’re in motion and functioning, no one is riding them. Decidedly strange.

  He reaches into his front pocket and withdraws a ride ticket, how he came to possess it he hasn’t a clue. But when fortune smiles upon you, don’t ask questions. Each ride boasts a sign signifying a single ticket is all that’s required to ride.

  It’s hard to choose a single ride from so many. He walks along gazing first one way and then another, trying to make up his mind. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of a golden haired girl.

  When he turns to look, he sees her moving away from him quickly down a side aisle, her flowing golden hair bouncing with each step. Surprised and pleased to find another person here besides himself, he rushes after her. Something about her strikes a chord of remembrance, but what it is eludes him.

  “ Wait a minute!” he hollers, hoping she will pause long enough for him to reach her. But she fails to respond to his plea in any way and continues toward a ride at the edge of the carnival.

  No matter how fast he runs, he’s unable to close the distance before she reaches the ride. It’s the Tunnel of Love. She hands her ride ticket over to the carnie and gets in one of the boats which will take her through the entrance.

  “ Hold that boat!” he yells, trying to increase his speed. Then he watches in frustration as the boat carrying the girl leaves the loading dock and sails upon the water toward the entrance to the ride.

  He reaches the loading dock and the carnie asks, “Ticket?”

  Holding out his hand, he realizes his ticket is no longer there. Looking around in anxiety, he discovers the ticket lying on the ground back the way he had come. He runs toward it just as a gust of wind picks it up and blows it st
ill further away. Running, he finally reaches the ticket and grasps hold of it.

  Turning back to the Tunnel of Love, he sees the boat bearing the golden haired girl has just passed through the entrance. He hurries back to the loading dock and gives the carnie his ticket.

  “ Step carefully please,” the carnie says as he takes the ticket and motions for him to step into the first boat.

  Moving into the boat quickly, he takes his seat. The carnie pulls the lever releasing the boat and he begins drifting along with the current toward the entrance. He peers inside but is unable to make out the boat bearing the golden haired girl, or anything else for that matter.

  Upon reaching the entrance, he’s able to see inside a little and upon the right side of the tunnel is a large, heart shaped picture with two white lights shining forth. As he passes through the entrance, he’s able to see the golden haired girl far ahead of him.

  “Excuse me sir.”

  Feeling as if he’s being wrenched awake, he yells, “No!” He glances around and sees Devin standing there at the tent flap, a worried expression upon his face. The dream begins to slip away though he tries to retain the memory.

  “Are you okay sir?” asks Devin.

  Trying to recall what it was that was so important, all he’s left with is a feeling of loss. Looking to Devin, he says, “Yeah.” Sitting up, he puts his head in his hands and feels the last vestige of the dream slip from him.

  “Illan’s returned,” he tells him.

  “Thank you,” he replies.

  Devin then steps back and closes the tent flap, leaving him alone once more.

  Sitting there in the darkened tent, he tries to recall the dream and why he had cried out but the memory is gone. Shaking his head, he gets to his feet and leaves his tent.

  Chapter Seven

  Stepping from his tent he finds Illan surrounded by the others, telling them in part what he’s learned. When he sees James exit, he ceases his conversation and moves toward him. “We should talk in your tent.”

  Coming to a stop, James nods his head and then returns inside. He’s followed in by Delia, Jiron, Miko and Ceadric. Illan pauses a moment at the tent’s entrance and says to Devin, “See that we’re not disturbed.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replies as Illan enters the tent.

  They’re crammed inside the small tent which had never been intended to include so many at one time. “We’re going to have to get you a larger tent,” Jiron says with a grin.

  “Feel sorry for poor Devin if we do,” jokes Miko.

  “Enough of that,” Illan says. “There’s much to talk about.” When he has everyone’s attention, he continues. “From the reports gathered today, it would seem we face anywhere from fifteen to twenty thousand troops.”

  James’ face falls and Delia gasps.

  “Can we handle that many?” Jiron asks.

  They all look to James and the doubt crossing his face tells them he doesn’t think so. “So many,” he says. “I never thought to have to face so many right away.”

  As James sinks into silence, Illan says, “Their siege equipment arrived sometime today. Lord Pytherian suspects an attack either late this evening or first thing tomorrow morning. They have a dozen catapults and mobile bridges they plan to use to ford the river in different places during the assault.”

  “Where are they kept?” James asks.

  “The latest reports put them sitting at the rear of their lines,” he says. “A thousand or so troops are stationed in the area.”

  “Is there any word whether they have a mage with them?” Miko asks.

  “None have been spotted, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” he replies. To James he asks, “Have you felt anything?”

  Shaking his head, he says, “Nothing. If there is one, he’s not doing anything that I would be able to detect.”

  “Could you find out?” asks Delia.

  “Not without alerting him to my presence,” he says. “And that may prompt an immediate attack.” After a moment of thought he asks, “If we took out their siege equipment, would that delay their assault?”

  “It would have to,” interjects Ceadric. They all turn to gaze at him as he continues. “The catapults they could probably do without, but those bridges they’ll absolutely have to have in order to cross the river and would be integral to their battle plan.”

  James nods his head and remains quiet as he considers different tactics.

  “Lord Pytherian said he would keep us apprised of any change in the enemy camp,” Illan says after a few moments.

  “Just blast them,” suggests Miko. “Do that thing you did outside the City of Light. From what Jiron and the others told me, it took out most of their army.”

  “That would only work if they have a mage,” he replies. “It may come to that. But keep in mind, I haven’t worked on the finer points of that spell and the consequences may prove disastrous for all.”

  “What do you mean?” Delia asks.

  How can he explain it to them? What in their experience would compare with the detonation of an atomic bomb? From the description Jiron supplied him with of the explosion, it resembled an a-bomb more than anything else. There didn’t seem to be any radiation fallout from that blast, but he would just assume not tempt fate a second time.

  “I can’t really explain it,” he tells them. “Just take it on faith that it isn’t something that I’m willing to do unless there are no other alternatives.”

  “Very well,” Miko says, obviously disappointed.

  After a moment’s consideration, he says, “Here’s what we do…”

  Once James lays down what he plans to do. The others offer their expert advice and together they work out a strategy which should work. Ceadric selects fifty of his most battle hardened and skilled fighters for the mission. Together with Delia and the slingers, Errin and Aleya, and all the other fighters from The Ranch but Jiron, they make their way through the darkened city on horseback and exit through the north gate.

  Each slinger has upon their back a pack that has been carried by pack horse all the way from The Ranch. None have yet been told what is contained within. Aleya and Errin have a dozen specially modified arrows in their quiver along with another containing regular arrows behind their saddles. Delia, after she and James spent a few minutes near one of the pack horses, returned with two small pouches secured to her belt.

  Once they pass through the gates, they edge away from the river so as not to reveal their presence to the enemy sentries posted on the other side. An hour later finds them coming to the section of the river which Lord Pytherian’s people said would have the least likelihood of having patrols. Here the river runs deep and swift making any attempt to cross extremely dangerous.

  “What do we do now?” Yern asks her quietly.

  “We wait,” Delia replies. She turns her gaze to the glow of the enemy’s camp in the distance and hopes this works.

  “Ready?” Jiron asks him.

  “No,” he replies. “I never will be for this sort of thing.” Hanging from his belt are several small pouches. When Jiron glances at them in question he says, “Just in case.” Jiron nods his head and they get going.

  He and James are making their way through the streets of Lythylla toward the gate which faces across the river to the enemy camp. In Jiron’s hand is a ten foot pole with a white flag. Lord Pytherian assured him that this is the accepted custom when one wishes to speak with an enemy without fear of attack. To be honest, James about laughed when they told him that. He couldn’t believe that on two different worlds, the same method would be used to initiate a parley.

  Illan walks beside them as they approach the gates. When they reach them, he says, “We’ll stand by to open them quickly should the need arise.” Henri, Lord Pytherian’s aide is there to facilitate the opening of the gate should it become necessary.

  Behind them, the remainder of Ceadric’s men ride. James didn’t feel they were necessary, but Illan insisted saying it was b
est to be prepared for all contingencies.

  At the gates James nods to Henri who shouts to a man stationed along the wall above the gates, “Is it clear?”

  “Yes, sir!” the man replies.

  “Open the gates!” he hollers to those in the gatehouse.

  With a clack and a creak, the gates begin opening. They part just enough to allow the two men to walk through. “Good luck,” Illan says before they begin moving out to face the enemy.

  “Thanks,” replies Jiron. James is frankly too nervous to make much of a reply.

  “Let’s go,” he says and steps through the gate. Jiron follows a half step behind with the flag raised high.

  As they make their way the short distance to the edge of the bridge, the gate swings closed behind them, shutting with a deep thud. Before them, they see activity arising from the enemy encampment.

  The gate of the palisade is open and troops are beginning to spill forth. Soldiers, crossbowmen and a company of Parvati’s take their position on either side of the gate, leaving an avenue through which James and Jiron can pass.

  Crossing the bridge takes a large amount of will to force his legs to make the journey across to the other side. “What idiot came up with this idea?” he exclaims under his breath. “He should be shot.”

  Jiron chuckles as he says, “You did.”

  Once past the bridge, they have to cross several hundred feet before reaching the enemy’s lines. When they reach the halfway point, a single individual exits the palisade’s gate and moves to intercept them.

  “Doesn’t look like anyone of much importance,” observes Jiron.

  “Maybe not,” he says. “Probably wants to see what we want before deciding if it’s worth being taken before the commander of their army.”

  The man is undeniably a soldier, and by the looks of his armor and the insignia upon it, one of high rank. When the two parties are five feet apart, both sides come to a halt. As the bearer of the white flag, it’s customary for James to make the first declaration.

  “We wish to parley with the leader of the host,” he states.