Shades of the past ms-6

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Shades of the past ms-6 Page 39

by Brian S. Pratt


  His mind wanders while he rides, wondering where James is and if he’s even still alive. Did this crazy plan work? Are Madoc’s forces even now pushing the Empire out? But what’s most on his mind is the threat of attack. They’ve been extremely lucky so far. How long is that going to last though? The closer they come to the border, the more likely that they will be hit and hit hard!

  “Sir!” a scout cries as he rides up from the south.

  “Report,” Illan says as the man draws near.

  “A score of riders comes from the south,” reports the scout. “They don’t look like soldiers, rather civilians.”

  From where Miko rides next to Illan he asks, “What were they wearing?”

  “Most had on robes of one kind or another,” he replies.

  Illan glances to Miko, he understands the significance of that. “How far away are they?”

  “A day, maybe more. They are moving only slightly faster than we are,” he explains.

  “Very well,” replies Illan. “Return and keep an eye on them. If they should begin moving faster, return to let us know immediately.”

  Giving a smart salute, the scout says, “Yes, sir.” Then he turns his horse and gallops back to the south.

  “Mages you think?” Miko asks though he already knows the answer.

  “Would think so,” Illan states. “Moving slow though, that bothers me.”

  “Why?” questions Miko.

  Illan glances to him and says, “It most likely means they’re pacing us until other forces arrive then all will attack together.” After a moment he adds, “Tell Ceadric and Delia I want to talk to them. Oh, and have Brother Willim come too.”

  Miko gives him a nod and then goes to find them.

  Ceadric is the first to make his appearance. “What’s up?” he asks.

  “Tell you when the others join us,” replies Illan.

  They wait for several more minutes before first Delia joins them then Miko returns with Brother Willim in tow.

  Continuing to ride, Illan has them move ahead of the column so he won’t be overheard. “Scouts have reported a score of mages approaching from the rear,” he tells them.

  “A score?” asks Ceadric in surprise. “They’ve never committed that many at one time.”

  “You must be causing them difficulties for them to commit so many,” suggests Brother Willim.

  “Indeed,” replies Illan.

  “Are they close?” Delia asks.

  “Right now they’re about a day behind and are pacing us,” he replies.

  “We think they may be waiting for reinforcements before attacking,” pipes up Miko.

  Illan nods. “That’s right.” To Ceadric he says, “Send scouts further out. We need to know what’s on the way. The scouts currently behind us are keeping an eye on them and will let us know if they make a move to quicken their pace.”

  “That would mean whatever they are planning is about to happen,” comments Ceadric.

  Illan nods to Ceadric who moves to get the scouts underway then turns to Miko and Brother Willim. “Can you handle them in the event of an attack?”

  “Twenty?” considers Brother Willim. “I don’t think so. It would depend on how strong they are.”

  “I’m not sure what I can do against magic,” admits Miko. “The Star works well against otherworldly creatures, but flesh and blood?” He pauses a second before continuing, “I just don’t know.”

  “Whether or not we can readily defeat them is immaterial,” states Brother Willim. “If we wait for other reinforcements to arrive the situation will only get worse. I say we turn back and deal with them now while our chances are the highest.”

  “I agree,” says Delia. “The longer we wait the worse it will become.”

  Glancing to the sky, Illan says, “It’s still an hour before noon. Let’s wait a couple hours to see if Ceadric’s scouts find anything. If not, we’ll turn around and attack.”

  “And if they do?” asks Miko.

  “Then we’ll adjust our plans accordingly,” he replies. “Return to your people and be ready.”

  They break up and return to the column. Illan resumes his place at the head while the others rejoin their groups to inform them of what’s going on.

  With a possible attack imminent, Illan has the column tighten up and posts Raiders on either end. They stop at noon for a brief rest and lunch break, can’t afford to have everyone tired and hungry if the battle should begin soon.

  They no sooner come to a stop and begin handing out rations than a rider comes galloping from the northwest. At the sight of the fast approaching rider, Illan and the other leaders move to greet him.

  “Milord!” the rider cries out as he comes to a stop before Illan. “There’s a force of foot and cavalry on the other side of the river to the west. They were about to cross over a bridge when it suddenly exploded and collapsed!”

  “James!” cries Miko in jubilation. “It has to be.”

  “Did you see three riders racing away from the bridge on this side?” Illan asks.

  Shaking his head the scout replies, “No. The whole area was so packed with refugees fleeing your approach that I didn’t notice, we weren’t that close. I left Gouric to keep an eye on the army across the river. When they could no longer use the bridge, they began moving north.”

  “This changes things,” observes Miko.

  Nodding, Illan says to the scout, “Return and let us know when and where that army makes it to this side of the river.”

  Giving Illan a salute, the scout turns and races back the way he came.

  “Ceadric, send out scouts to see if they can find James and let him know where we are,” he says.

  “Yes, sir,” replies Ceadric who immediately moves to comply.

  “Could that have been the force those mages are waiting for?” asks Miko.

  “Possibly,” states Illan. “But I’m not willing to bet on it. However, I think before we begin any attack on the mages we should wait until James rejoins us.”

  “That would be a good idea,” states Miko.

  As a dozen men race off to the north to hunt for James, Illan keeps the column moving ever closer to Madoc.

  Ever since they crossed the river, James and Jiron have holed up in an abandoned farmhouse. Their horses were all but collapsing after the grueling race they ran to the river. Outside, the moon has risen and its light casts shadows across night’s landscape.

  Before darkness set in he used his mirror and found Illan and the others already setting up camp for the night. Still several hours to the south, he and Jiron had decided to rest through the night to give their horses a chance to recover their strength before rejoining the others.

  The force they left on the far side of the river had reached a bridge two hours before dusk and crossed over. They then moved south a couple more miles before stopping. When they crossed the river, a rider was dispatched to the fort. Shortly after his arrival forces from the fortress began moving to join the others. Now together, the two forces number close to ten thousand men.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, another force was sighted moving toward Illan from the east. Composed of cavalry, they numbered in excess of two thousand. The good news is that there didn’t look like a mage was traveling with either force. It would be bad enough with just that many men, but throw a mage into the mix and James isn’t sure how well it would go.

  His supply of crystals is now gone. Whatever is left with Delia and Illan is all that remains from the supply he brought from The Ranch. He fervently hopes they didn’t use all of it, they’ll need it when they encounter the forces moving to intercept them.

  The farmhouse they are using has been long abandoned. The roof has collapsed on one side and the walls look like they will collapse at any time. The door that once stood in the doorway has long since disappeared. Jiron stands at one of the two windows and gazes out into the night. James lies back on his blanket and stares at the stars shining through one of the many gaps in the c
eiling.

  “They’re going to attack tomorrow,” Jiron says. Worry for his sister and friends gnaws at him.

  “Our horses should be sufficiently rested by morning,” James tells him. “We’ll rejoin them before the battle.”

  “I hope so,” he stresses.

  “If we get through this battle, we’re home free,” says James encouragingly.

  “I just wish Tersa had remained with Roland,” Jiron sighs as he turns from the window to glance at James. “What was she thinking?”

  Turning his head to look at his friend, James grins. “Who knows what girls think?” he wonders. “She’s a strong woman, in lots of way like her brother.”

  “Headstrong and stubborn?” grins Jiron back.

  “Something like that,” he replies with a chuckle.

  From outside, the sound of a lone horse is heard approaching the farmhouse. James immediately cancels his orb as he gets to his feet.

  “Stay here,” Jiron whispers as he pulls a knife and moves to the open doorway. Gazing out, he sees a horseman silhouetted by the moonlight. The man has come to a stop and is staring at the house, probably trying to figure out why the light went out. His hands remain free of weapons as he continues to scrutinize the house.

  Moving along the inside wall of the farmhouse, Jiron makes his way over to the window on the opposite side. Slipping through, he lands on the ground outside silently and makes his way back around to the front. When he gets to the corner he peers around to find the man still sitting there.

  Suddenly, an orb flashes into being above the man’s head, startling him. He draws his sword and makes to flee.

  “Wait!” cries out Jiron as he places his knife back in its sheath. The man is obviously from the north.

  James realizes the same thing and comes out from the house. “We’re friends!” he hollers a second behind Jiron. The orb above the man’s head winks out as another appears over James’ shoulder.

  “James?” the man asks.

  Stepping forward, James nods his head.

  Sighing in relief, the man says, “You scared me out of ten year’s growth.”

  “Sorry,” he apologizes.

  “No harm done,” the man replies. “We’ve had riders out looking for you ever since you blew the bridge earlier today.”

  “Are you from Black Hawk?” Jiron asks.

  “That’s right,” the man says. “Was supposed to let you know where he is.”

  “We already know,” explains James. “Tell him our horses are exhausted and we will be there in the morning. Also, there’s a sizeable force a half a day away to the north. Another one is closing on him from the east, at least two thousand riders strong.”

  “With the mages coming from the south this could get bad,” the rider comments.

  “Mages?” asks James. “What mages?” He glances to Jiron and sees the worry in his eyes.

  “Heard from another scout that had come from the south that there are a score of them,” he explains.

  “How close were they?” Jiron asks.

  “Last I heard they were a day away,” he tells him. “But that was this morning and at the time they weren’t making any effort to catch us, just keeping pace.”

  James thinks for a minute then says, “Tell Illan to stay where he is and prepare for attack. We’ll get there as soon as it’s light. Hopefully no attack will come before then.”

  “Yes, sir,” the scout says then turns his horse around and gallops away into the night.

  Jiron hears a sigh escape James. Glancing over to him he arcs an eyebrow questioningly.

  “A score of mages,” he says. “How am I going to best a score of mages?”

  “Remember what you did at the City of Light?” he asks.

  “Yes I do,” he replies with a nod. “But if I do that, I’ll end up killing us all. That much power would surely create an explosion of epic proportions. Our people would never get away in time to escape the blast.”

  “You always say that if you have time to prepare, you can do anything,” Jiron states.

  “I never said I could do anything, just that it is easier on me,” he corrects.

  Jiron looks at him with an expression that says ‘stop nitpicking’. “What I mean is, you have all night,” he clarifies. “Can’t you come up with something?”

  His mind is frozen with the thought of having to face twenty mages. He simply can’t get around that fact. Back before they bolted into the buried city, the mages were kicking his butt badly. These are most likely the very same mages. What has changed other than he’s more tired now and has fewer reserves with which to draw upon?

  Shaking his head, he says, “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s just that I’m exhausted.” He can see the disappointment in his eyes.

  Jiron stares at him for a moment. Finally breaking the silence, he says, “Then you get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

  James lays back on his blanket with the knowledge he’s let his friend down. I’m only a man! That’s the problem with always coming up with clever strategies, everyone keeps expecting you to be able to do it again, time after time. Maybe a little rest will clear my mind.

  Before falling asleep, he glances over to see Jiron by the window staring out into the night. Closing his eyes, he relaxes and let’s sleep claim him.

  “ Wake up!”

  Fighting the fog of sleep, James opens his eyes. It’s still dark outside and Jiron is shaking his shoulder.

  “We got company,” he whispers in his ear when James stirs.

  Coming awake quickly James abruptly sits up. The sound of many horses fast approaching comes to him. All vestiges of sleep leave him as he gets to his feet. He follows Jiron to the window overlooking the direction from which the riders are approaching. Pulling a slug from his belt, he gazes out the window but only sees blackness.

  “Who are they?” he asks.

  “Don’t know,” replies Jiron.

  As the riders draw closer, they emerge from the dark as indistinct shadows in the false dawn of morning. The shadows are heading in the general direction of the abandoned farmhouse and will pass by close. James holds his breath as they near.

  “Think we’ll get there in time?” they hear one rider ask.

  “If we don’t, there’ll be hell to pay,” another replies.

  They speak northern! Must be members of the Alliance come to the aid of Black Hawk. James moves to the door and rushes outside. “Friends!” he yells as he exits the farmhouse.

  “James, no!” hollers Jiron in a hushed voice.

  The riders, over a hundred strong, come to an abrupt stop at the sound of his greeting. They then turn back to the farmhouse.

  “We don’t know they’re friends,” Jiron says as he comes to stand beside him.

  “Who are you?” asks one of the riders. His voice is rather gruff and when he stops before James the smell coming from him is almost overpowering. He smells like a man who’s never seen the inside of a bathtub in his life.

  James begins to realize his mistake. The men are wearing a hodgepodge of uniforms, all are extremely dirty. One man who stops next to the one who asked the question has a necklace slung around his neck that looks like it has fingers and ears attached to it rather than beads.

  “Uh,” he says then stops.

  “We’re travelers,” Jiron pipes up. His right hand rests on the hilt of a knife.

  “Travelers eh?” the man with the necklace asks. Several of the others laugh.

  “We don’t have time for this,” the first man says. “Kill them.”

  “Eyes!” he yells to Jiron a fraction of a second before a massive starburst explodes just above James’ head. The suddenness of the explosion startles the men and momentarily blinds them.

  Jiron wastes no time. Jumping for the leader, he strikes with a knife and pulls him from his horse. When the leader hits the ground the man with the necklace is struck with a slug, sending him flying off his horse.

  Swinging into the leader’s saddle, Ji
ron takes the reins and lays about him with his knives. The men, still half blinded by the flash of light are unable to fend off his attacks. “Come on man,” he yells to James.

  Grabbing the empty saddle that once held the man with the necklace, he pulls himself up. Another man cries out as Jiron deals him a lethal blow. Reaching down to grab the reins, he feels the blade of a sword pass where his head had just been. Lashing out with magic, he sends a wave of force toward his attacker which knocks him backward off his horse.

  Once he has the reins, he kicks his horse in the sides and bolts through the ring of half blind attackers. Jiron plunges his knife in the throat of one last attacker before he follows. Knocking men and horses aside, they race away from the farmhouse.

  Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!

  Three explosions rip through the group of horsemen.

  Flying across the ground in the predawn light, they quickly leave the scene of the attack behind. Heading southwest, they make for Illan’s last known position.

  “Don’t ever do that again!” criticizes Jiron. “Just because someone speaks your language does not make them an ally.”

  “Sorry,” replies James.

  As the light gradually brightens, they’re able to tell the men from the farmhouse haven’t followed after. Slowing their horses to a canter, James removes his mirror from his belt pouch and scans behind them. The men, only about two dozen now, are still at the farmhouse.

  With pursuit not an immediate threat, he scrolls the image to the west and south to find Illan. When he finally locates him, his breath catches in his throat as he sees them lined up for battle.

  Soldiers of the Empire, both foot and horse are arrayed in an arc to the north. “They must have continued through the night in order to reach them so fast,” he says.

  Jiron moves closer to look at the image. “At least they haven’t attacked yet,” he says hopefully.

 

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