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Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two

Page 27

by Brian S. Pratt


  “Let’s move,” Jiron says. “We don’t know how long we’ll have before they manage to get around that.”

  Potbelly groans and then begins to topple off his horse. Scar jumps down and hurries over to his friend’s side, catching him before he hits the ground.

  Potbelly looks up to Scar as he lays him on the ground, “I guess this is my last fight.”

  Scar sees Delia there and she bends down to examine the wound. “It’s hit nothing vital,” she tells him. “If we can get the blood to stop, he should be alright.”

  Jiron looks back to the river and can see that they’ve already started moving some boats toward the broken bridge to begin ferrying men across. “We don’t have much time,” he tells her.

  “Won’t need much,” she says as she tears a strip of cloth off her shirt.

  Jiron looks again and sees ten men disembarking from the boats. They begin running to close with them. Two knives fly in quick succession as Shorty takes out two of the attackers.

  “Hurry please!” Jiron says as he and the others move to engage with the oncoming men. Side by side, the pit fighters stand, giving Delia the time to administer to Potbelly. Scar is a terrible foe as his anger for what happened to his friend finds an outlet, his two swords weaving a pattern of death no soldier willingly enters.

  As she starts to bind the wound, leaving the bolt in his side, Roland asks, “Aren’t you going to take it out?”

  “No,” she replies. “If I do, it’ll leave a hole allowing more blood to escape. He’s already lost too much as it is.”

  The attackers fall like stalks of grain before the scythe as they engage the waiting fighters. Keeping her mind on Potbelly and doing her best to ignore the fighting going on fifteen feet away, she finally finishes up with binding his wound. With Roland’s help, they manage to get him on a horse, securing him in the same manner as James. When he’s secured, she turns and yells, “Let’s go!”

  She quickly mounts her horse as the pit fighters take out the few remaining soldiers and then run to where their horses are waiting. Glancing back to the river, she sees two more boats disembarking another twenty soldiers. “Hurry!” she yells to Scar and the others as they reach the horses and begin mounting. Crossbow bolts fly at them from the river, but from that distance they’re not much to worry about.

  Back into the saddle, they turn and race down the road, leaving the enemy far behind. After putting several miles between them, they slow the horses, saving them in case of the need for speed.

  “Where did the other horses come from?” Jiron asks Shorty.

  “After you guys left, we figured that we might need to leave in a hurry so we traded all the wagons and the goods for the horses,” he says.

  “What about the money chest?” Delia asks.

  “It’s divided among the saddlebags,” he tells her. “Each horse is carrying roughly the same amount.”

  Jiron nods his head, “Smart thinking.”

  Shorty smiles back to him and replies, “We knew you guys wouldn’t be able to leave without disturbing a few people.”

  “Yeah,” Yorn interjects. “So we positioned ourselves near the wall and just listened for where the commotion was the loudest and figured that would be where you were.”

  “You figured right,” Scar says as he rides next to his friend Potbelly. “We are going to need to find somewhere to hole up for a while, so Potbelly can recover.”

  “Any ideas?” Jiron asks.

  “We could cut cross country, try to find someplace away from civilization,” Roland suggests.

  “But that would be the first place I would look if I was them,” Jiron replies. “Of course, any place near here will be searched in no time, as well. No, I think we better put as much distance between us and them that we can, stay on the road as long as possible.”

  Scar understands the logic, but is worried for his friend who doesn’t look very good. “Hang in there Pot ol’ boy,” he says to him.

  A little after midnight, James regains consciousness, though is still extremely weak and tired. “What’s going on?” he asks, looking around groggily.

  “We’ve been riding all night, ever since you blew up the bridge,” Jiron tells him. “Right now we’re looking for a good place to stop and rest.”

  “Can’t take the chance that their forces will get ahead of us,” he says. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

  “Potbelly is in a bad way and the horses are tired,” Jiron explains. “We can’t keep going very much longer.”

  “I’ll leave it to your judgment then,” he says, before passing out again.

  Roland comes up next to him and asks, “Why not go off the road here and see if we can find a spot? We’ve traveled a long ways and hopefully their patrols won’t reach this far so fast.”

  “You’re probably right,” he agrees. “Anyway, James and Potbelly need to rest.” He leads them off the road and they travel cross country for another hour before coming to an old abandoned farmhouse. They bring James and Potbelly inside before they picket the horses nearby.

  Delia has them lay Potbelly on the floor in the front room. Scar stays with her while the others see to the horses. She begins to unbind his bandages around the bolt. She looks to Scar and says, “It’s time for it to come out.” Removing the rest of the bandages, they can see where the skin around the shaft of the bolt is beginning to turn red. Drops of blood continue to well out from around it.

  He nods as he watches her take out a needle and remove a thread from her shirt.

  When she has the thread through the eye of the needle and tied securely, she says, “Alright, you gently pull out the bolt and I’ll sew it close.”

  He grabs the portion of the bolt sticking out of Potbelly’s side and looks to Delia who nods. Then with a gentle, even pull, he removes the bolt as blood begins streaming out.

  “Quickly!” she says to him, “pinch the wound closed so I can sew it together.”

  As he holds the wound together to inhibit the flow of blood, he looks to the unconscious Potbelly and murmurs, “Glad you’re not awake for this.” He continues holding the wound together until Delia has completely sewn it closed. Tying it off, she has him remove his hands and the stitches hold securely, only a few drops of blood continue seeping through between the stitches.

  Taking some water, she washes away the blood from Potbelly’s side and then dries it with an extra shirt. Using strips of cloth she tore from a spare shirt, she once more binds the wound. When she’s done, she says to Scar, “Hopefully we can rest here at least a day to let this heal. Keep a watch on him and don’t allow him to move around very much, we don’t want him to tear open the stitches.”

  “I will,” he assures her as he settles down next to his friend.

  When the others have returned from picketing the horses, Jiron sets up a watch schedule and takes the first shift. He finds a place outside where he can see anyone approaching and settles in until its Scar’s turn.

  Shortly after he begins his watch, Delia comes out and sits with him. “You need to get some rest,” he tells her.

  “In a moment,” she replies. “Just needed to get out of there for a bit.”

  “Potbelly’s snores bothering you?” he asks her with a smile.

  “No, not really,” she replies back. “I just can’t get being questioned by Lord Cytok off my mind.”

  “It’ll get better over time,” he assures her. “Some things, especially intense situations like that, have a way of hanging around longer with you than others.”

  “I suppose,” she says. She gives him a quick glance and continues, “Did anyone tell you why he captured us?”

  He shakes his head and replies, “No, not yet.”

  “Well, the last package on the list was for his estate,” she tells him. “When we went to deliver the goods, the man at the gate called the guards and had us taken. It seems that the smugglers had worked for Lord Cytok, in fact his is the name on that letter James has been showing everyone.�


  Nodding his head, he says, “That makes sense.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “They held us until he showed up and then began questioning us as to how the letter and the cargo came to be in our possession. He hadn’t been at it very long before you guys showed up.” She lays her head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around her as sobs begin to wrack her body.

  Holding her close, he sits there silently as she lets out all the emotions she’s kept bottled up since the ordeal.

  When she’s done, she wipes her eyes and says, “Thanks.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” he assures her. He gives her one more hug and then says, “Now, you go and get some sleep, you look like you could use it.”

  Nodding her head, she begins to turn toward the house. Then she comes back over to him and gives him one last hug before leaving him there alone.

  He watches her go until she’s inside the house. Brushing away the tears that had fallen from his eyes in the dark, he turns his attention back to keeping watch.

  Late in the night as Stig is taking his turn at watch, he hears horses passing off in the distance. He quickly moves to try to better see where they’re going. In the moonlight he’s able to see a company of twenty empirical horsemen ride past, going to the east.

  He continues watching them until they disappear into the night. When he wakes Yorn for his turn, he tells him of the riders before turning in.

  Yorn keeps a watchful eye and ear out for any other visitors, but his watch passes quietly.

  “This is not the afterlife,” Scar assures Potbelly when he wakes up, thinking he’s dead.

  “It’s not?” he asks confused. “But I died last night.” He sits up, even though the pain in his side is throbbing greatly.

  “Don’t you tear out those stitches!” Scar admonishes him severely. He lays a hand on his friend and says, “You need to rest and let you’re body heal.”

  Potbelly gives his friend an annoying look as he knocks his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t need no nursemaid!” he exclaims. “Been hurt worse than this many times in the pits.”

  “Stubborn,” Potbelly tells him, “that’s what you are.”

  Tersa walks over to see how he’s doing and he asks, “Are you sure this isn’t the afterlife? For there surely must stand an angel.”

  She smiles at him and asks, “How are you doing?”

  “Better,” he replies, “seeing as how I’m not dead.”

  “That’s good,” she tells him. “Jiron was saying that we might stay here till tomorrow if nobody shows up.”

  “What for?” Potbelly asks.

  “So we can rest and you can heal,” she replies.

  “Heal? Me?” he asks as if the thought had never even occurred to him. “Now don’t be thinking that I need any rest.” He starts to get up and says through teeth clinched in pain, “I hardly even notice it.”

  “Be that as it may,” she tells him, “we’re here for a while so you may as well take advantage of it and heal the best you can.” She gives him a playful, stern gaze.

  “Yes ma’am,” he replies as he settles back down to the floor.

  “Keep an eye on him,” she says to Scar, giving him a wink and a smile.

  “You can count on it,” he assures her as he turns his gaze to Potbelly. “You rest!”

  Potbelly gives them both a small smile as he lies back down and soon drifts off to sleep once more.

  Over to the other side of the room, James has awakened and is talking with Jiron. “Did everyone make it?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” he replies, “we’re all here. Potbelly took a bolt in the side, but he’ll survive.”

  “That’s good,” James says. “We should probably get going soon.”

  “You need rest,” Jiron tells him, “and Potbelly could use a day for his wound to heal.”

  “We may not have that much time,” warns James. “They’re going to want us bad. Lord Cytok will most likely want revenge for what we did to him.” He looks to Jiron and says, “He’ll mobilize everything he can to search for us.”

  “What should we do?” he asks.

  “I’m still going after Miko, but the rest of you should try to get out of the Empire,” he says.

  “You helped me get Tersa back, I’m not going to leave you before you rescue your friend,” he tells him.

  James looks at him a moment and then replies, “Alright. We’re near the coast, or at least we were. Maybe we can sneak into a port town and get passage for the others on a ship, sailing up the coast to Cardri. If the Empire isn’t at war with them, then there still should be unrestricted access for Cardri captains.”

  Jiron nods and adds, “With them out of danger, you and I can go after your friend.”

  “We just need to figure a way into a port where a Cardri ship is at anchor,” he says.

  “That’s going to be the tricky part,” agrees Jiron.

  “What’s going to be the tricky part?” asks Yorn as he comes over and joins the conversation.

  Jiron quickly fills him in on the plan thus far. “You and the others need to get Tersa and Delia to a safe place and hole up while we’re rescuing his friend.”

  “Take her to Trendle, it’s a village to the north of Bearn,” suggests James. “When you get there, find a Forest Warden by the name of Ceryn and let him know what’s going on. He should be able to get you settled in while you wait for us.”

  “Alright,” agrees Yorn.

  “Now,” James says, “ready or not, we need to get out of here.”

  Chapter Twenty

  ______________________

  “Get away from me!” Potbelly yells at Scar who’s trying to assist him in mounting his horse. “I ain’t no invalid.”

  “Alright,” Scar replies impatiently as he backs away. “Tear out those stitches then, I hope you bleed to death you pig headed mule!” He stands there and watches as Potbelly grabs the saddle and swings himself up onto his horse with a groan.

  “See,” he says through teeth gritted in pain, perspiration beginning to form on his face, “don’t need your help.”

  Scar shakes his head at his friend then mounts his own horse. Staying close in case Potbelly needs him, he sits and waits for the others to get ready.

  Delia rides over to them, nods to Potbelly as she asks Scar, “How’s he doing?”

  “I’m fine!” Potbelly answers, irritated at her for talking about him like he isn’t even there.

  “Stubborn and likely to kill himself because of it,” he says with a slight smile, “but I think he’ll survive the ride.”

  “Let’s hope so,” she says.

  Jiron is the last to mount. He turns toward the others and says, “We’ll make for the sea and then travel along the coast. First chance we get, we’ll acquire some clothes that will allow us to pass ourselves off as Empire citizens.”

  Yorn asks, “What are we to do if we encounter the enemy?”

  “Avoid them if possible,” he replies. “Kill them if not.”

  Yorn gives him a satisfied grin at the thought of a little payback for the sacking of his home.

  “Now, let’s ride!” Jiron exclaims as he kicks his horse into a trot. Heading to the northwest, he leads them toward the sea.

  James rides in the lead with Jiron as they make their way back through the desert to the road. “Think we’ll make it?” Jiron asks him.

  “We can but try,” he replies.

  “What do you plan to do once you get your friend?” he asks.

  “Make our way back to Cardri,” he says. “At least there it’s reasonably safe right now. After that, who knows?”

  Shorty hollers from the rear, “Jiron! Riders coming from the north! Looks like an advance patrol.”

  They turn to see ten riders coming directly at them, they have little chance in avoiding contact. “Potbelly! Stay and watch the others,” Jiron hollers to him. Turning his horse, he cries to the rest, “We can’t let even one escape, or they’ll bring more.”
r />   Leaving Potbelly to protect Roland and the ladies, the others turn and race to meet the oncoming horsemen. Before they close the distance, two slugs fly from behind each taking out a horse causing the riders to fall to the ground. Drawing their swords and knives, they race forward, closing with the enemy.

  Shorty lets fly with a knife and takes out one rider as the knife embeds itself in his chest. He then slows his horse and jumps to the ground, as knives are little use in mounted combat. He dives to the ground to avoid the blows of the mounted riders and regains his feet quickly as he heads for the ones approaching on foot whose horses were knocked out from under them.

  Stig closes with a horseman, his shield on the arm holding the reins and his mace striking out. With a clash of metal, the combatants begin beating at one another, each looking for an opening.

  James holds back and is looking for a clear shot to take out another rider, but his friends are too close, he dares not try it.

  Two swords weaving a pattern of death, Scar engages a horseman and soon has him falling to the ground, blood welling from where his sword took him through the chest. Looking around, he sees Shorty running toward the two men on the ground. Suddenly he notices a horseman riding toward him from behind, sword raised to cut him down.

  “Shorty!” he yells, “Behind you!” He watches as Shorty turns to see the horseman almost upon him and dives to the ground, avoiding by inches the sword of the rider. Then Scar’s attention is diverted as he’s beset by another horseman, having to block an overhand attack with one sword while slicing back with the other.

  Yorn is engaged with two and is having a hard time, trading blows with one while turning his horse to avoid the other. Suddenly, the one he had been trying to avoid falls from his horse as one of James’ slugs explodes out of his back.

  Shorty regains his feet as the two on foot reach him. He circles, trying to keep it so only one is able to attack him at a time. He catches the sword of his attacker on his left knife as he follows through with the other, opening up a long slash along the man’s forearm causing him to drop his sword.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the rider turn and begin to come back toward him as the remaining man closes in and engages him. Unable to disengage, he tries to quickly finish him off but is distracted by the advancing rider.

 

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