“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, Jiron 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.
James shifts the image south of Illan’s position to locate the party of approaching mages. It doesn’t take him long to find them, now less than an hour away from Illan and the others.
“We’re out of time!” cries Jiron as he kicks his horse up to a full gallop. He may kill it, but he plans to reach his sister before the attack commences. James puts his mirror back in his pouch and follows along behind.
Literally flying over the ground, the only thing on Jiron’s mind is his sister.
Chapter Twenty Eight
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Shortly after leaving Baerustin, Kerith-Ayxt received word of the destruction wrought at the School. His mind at first was unable to come to grips with what the mage who brought him word was actually telling him. When the mage finished relating the tale, all the other mages who were traveling with the High Lord Magus stood in stunned silence.
Loss of the library? Unthinkable!
Twice he had the mage restate the message until the facts finally sank in. Many of the mages with him thought he would erupt in a fit of rage, but all he felt was unimaginable loss. The library had held the works of some of history’s greatest minds. Leaps in the workings of magic that propelled generations onward to greater understanding are now lost.
Despite the edict given by Lord Cytok, he sent all but a score of his mages back to the school with a most insurmountable task. To write down their knowledge before it too becomes lost. Even with that, it may take centuries before the School is once again able to train the caliber of mages they have now.
Finally, anger begins to set in. He’s not sure how, but this has to be the work of that rogue mage who has caused the Empire such tro
ubles the last year. Even from beneath the sands at Baerustin, still he is able to accomplish such destruction.
His anger requires an outlet, someone upon whom he can vent the anger and sorrow that seeks to consume him. The mage may lie dead beneath Baerustin, but he can seek vengeance on those who traveled with him. Black Hawk and those who ride with him shall know the wrath of the High Lord Magus.
Maintaining a harsh pace, he finally comes to within a day of Black Hawk’s forces. His rage, which once was a white hot sun demanding action, has now calmed into a calculating anger. One doesn’t become the High Lord Magus by allowing one’s emotions to get the better of them.
To the north he locates by magical means a force of soldiers heading to the river in an attempt to cut off Black Hawk’s retreat from the Empire. Keeping a steady pace, he maintains the gap between his mages and the Death Hawk. He plans to keep this pace until he can hit him at the same time as the other attacking force.
When the bridge blew and the army was forced to proceed further north to find a bridge to cross the river, his rage almost got the better of him once more. But logic won out and he continued as he had been and simply kept pace with Black Hawk.
Finally, once the army made it across to the eastern shore, he knew it was time. Quickening his pace, he moved to close the gap for the attack.
Their horses on the verge of collapsing, James and Jiron see the cloud of dust that hangs over the battlefield. Too late to join their comrades before the onslaught, they arrive shortly after it’s begun.
From the ranks of the defenders, a flight of crossbow bolts is launched through the air and lands with devastating effect among the Empire’s charging cavalry. They see Illan marshalling his forces and repulsing the initial attack of the enemy. The recently freed crossbowmen send another volley toward the Empire’s cavalry and more riders fall.
The bulk of Black Hawk’s Raiders face off against the foot and cavalry to the north. On their southern flank, the Hand of Asran work to counter the magical attacks from mages. James’ skin crawls from the amount of magic being used down there. When before he sensed magic it was a mere tingling or prickling, this time it’s like bugs crawling over and under his skin. A light flares brilliantly followed by the roar of an explosion a moment later.
“The Hand is holding its own,” observes Jiron. The flash of a startling white light tells them Miko is there with them.
Illan’s force is completely surrounded except on the side where the mages are hammering away at the Hand. James removes a piece of rope and secures himself to the saddle. Scanning the battlefield quickly, he finds what he’s looking for then turns to Jiron and says, “Follow me.” Kicking his already tired horse, he races across the desert.
Rather than riding toward the mages like Jiron thought he was going to do, James angles toward the rear of the enemy soldier’s line. They’re almost upon them before the enemy even realizes it. Shields spring to life as James encases them both in protective barriers.
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
Explosions rip through the ranks of enemy soldiers, clearing a path for the charging steeds.
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
Dozens of men and horses are thrown into the air as the ground erupts beneath them. Crumph! Again and again, James unleashes the power of magic to clear a path to the beleaguered men in the center.
“James!” Scar calls out after the first explosion.
“It’s Jiron!” cries Stig as his mace pulps the soldier’s face that he’s locked in combat with. Using his shield, he pushes another man aside as he strikes out at yet a third, crushing the man’s shoulder with a thunderous blow.
Crumph! Crumph!
Suddenly, Jiron’s horse collapses and he’s thrown free. The shield surrounding him winks out as he lands amidst enemy soldiers. He comes to his feet quickly with knives at the ready and begins laying into them with amazing speed. As packed in as the enemy soldiers are, their own numbers hamper their ability to use their swords. Knives flash and men fall before they’re able to defend themselves.
Oblivious to Jiron’s predicament, James continues on toward their line. Crumph! All of a sudden, the way is clear to the defenders within the ring of attackers. Kicking his horse, he races for the opening. Jorry and Uther are there and stand aside as he jumps over the ring of dead before them.
“James!” they cry as he lands among them.
“To Jiron!” they cry once James is past and the fighters from The Ranch wade into the enemy in an attempt to come to his aid.
Off to his right he sees Delia and the other slingers loosing slugs as fast as they can. Next to them, Hedry and his archers target the enemy crossbowmen that stand further back. Many within the defender’s circle lie dead with bolts protruding from their bodies.
“Glad you could make it,” Illan shouts as he comes toward him. All of a sudden there’s solid bang as a crossbow bolt strikes Illan’s helm. Leaving a dent, it gets deflected away. Several other fresh dents show upon his helm as well.
“Didn’t want to miss the fun,” he says. Glancing back, he sees Scar and Potbelly reaching Jiron’s side. Scar’s double swords take the enemy out as Potbelly rushes through the opening. Using his knife to deflect a sword’s thrust, he follows through with his sword and drives it to the hilt in the soldier’s chest. Side by side with Jiron, they begin to fall back to their line.
Jerking his thumb to where the Hand is battling the mages, Illan says, “They really need you.”
“On the way.” Untying himself from the saddle, he dismounts quickly and works his way through the defenders to where the Hand and Miko are battling the mages. One of the brothers lies unmoving on the ground, Brother Willim and the other three face the mages with green glows surrounding them.
As fast as green shoots begin to leave the earth, a mage burns them with fire. Bugs appear and are quickly destroyed. Another brother cries out as his chest cracks open. Falling to the ground he soon lies still.
James runs forward, his shield shimmering around him. Summoning the magic, he lashes out…
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
…but has little effect other than throwing dirt in the air to create a smokescreen to obscure their vision. The mages themselves remain untouched.
He comes to a stop between Brother Willim and Miko. With Star raised high and shining brilliantly, Miko turns to him. “Knew you would come,” he says.
“We can’t hold them much longer,” says Brother Willim as he throws another seed in the air. Moving forward rapidly, it grows into a ball of tangled vines and lands near the leading edge of mages. The vines move rapidly upon the ground and entangle the feet of two of them. Yanking them to the ground, the vines begin to squeeze and tighten, constricting like a giant snake.
Then another mage comes to their rescue and the vines literally explode off of the two trapped men.
“I’ve already lost two brothers,” Brother Willim states. “You’re the Gardener, do something.”
Gardener?
Turning back to the mages, he lets the magic surge forth and the ground begins to rumble. Suddenly, the earth cracks open but then slams shut again as opposing magic works against him.
A cloud of birds swoops down from the sky toward the mages. Bolts of energy fly from the assembled mages and begin taking them out before they can close. Explosions of fire light up the sky as whole groups of birds are incinerated in massive fireballs.
James reaches to the clouds to pull them in but magic again works against him and his effort goes to naught. The dust from when the ground exploded is beginning to settle and he looks across to see one of the mages, an older one, staring at him. It almost seems as if time pauses as the two stare at each other. Then the mage raises his hand and the onslaught begins.
When the ground erupted, Kerith-Ayxt felt it was slightly different than the magic of those he faced when the attack first began. Then when he stared across the battlefield and saw the mage he couldn’t believe his eyes. Never has anyone s
ucceeded in escaping Baerustin.
It must have been he who had attempted to crack open the earth beneath them and to summon a storm. The High Lord Magus had easily countered such basic magics. He is amazed at the lack of finesse this mage has in what he tries to accomplish.
Now to finish it. Raising his hands above his head, he summons the magic. And with the knowledge of centuries of mages behind it, lets it loose.
The tingling sensation flares worse than ever as the mage raises his hands. Pouring more of his reserve power into the barrier, he extends it to encompass Miko and the rest of the Hand. When the full force of the mage’s magic strikes the barrier, James is literally knocked backward a step and the shield collapses. Reinstating the shield again, his mind boggles at the amount of magic that was just used against him.
Miko and the Hand continue to counter what the rest of the mages are throwing at them; fireballs, lightning, and many other types of destructive magic. All they’re able to do is simply keep them at bay without any opportunity of using offensive magic of their own.
Again the mage sends a wave of magic toward the barrier. A blinding light flares when it connects and James is momentarily blinded as the barrier again falls. His nerve endings tingle and he staggers back again. Miko catches him with the hand not holding the Star.
It’s a struggle to replace the barrier once more. Another attack like the last one and he may not have anything left in him, it’s taken the rest of his reserves to bring it back up this third time, he doubts if he’ll be able to do it for a fourth.
Miko glances to his friend and sees the strain showing on his face. “You okay?” he asks though he already knows the answer.
“I’m about wiped out,” he admits.
“We can’t win this can we?” Miko asks.
Shaking his head James says, “After the mage’s next attack, I’ll be used up if not dead.” He nods to the Star blazing in his Miko’s hand and adds, “Then it will all rest on you.”
Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six Page 40
