When James groaned, Jiron’s heart sank as the man turned to look at him there ready to pounce. Moving quickly, he grabs the chair the mage had used and barely blocks the strike of the soldier. Chips fly as the blade hacks out a section of a leg.
Not giving the man a chance for a second swing. Jiron immediately closes with him, pushing the chair toward him and running him into the side of the tent. The resulting impact brings the tent down and the man’s sword becomes entangled in the loose folds of the collapsing tent.
Jiron quickly grabs the soldier’s swordarm and rams his knee into the man’s middle. The soldier’s other fist lashes out and catches Jiron across the jaw but has little effect as he didn’t have leverage to put much power behind it.
His knee comes up and catches the soldier in the groin causing him to freeze immobile for a brief moment, which allows Jiron to elbow him across the throat, smashing his windpipe. The man begins gagging in a vain attempt to breathe but his compacted windpipe starts to swell from the blow and he soon passes out from lack of oxygen.
Taking the man’s sword, Jiron crawls through the collapsed tent until he reaches James. “James!” he whispers urgently. “Wake up!” His eyes flutter open and he mumbles something incoherently. Whatever they had given him still keeps him from functioning properly.
“Damn!” he curses as he turns onto his back and thrusts the sword upward through the tent material. Sawing with the sword, he quickly cuts a three foot slit and pokes his head out to see how the battle’s going on outside.
The men from Madoc have the numbers but the Empire’s mage is taking them out readily enough. Arrows fly toward the mage but none reach their mark, he has a barrier surrounding him similar to the one James utilizes. So far no one has taken any notice of the collapsing of the tent, so intent are they on the attackers.
Jiron uses his hands and widens the gap further and slips outside. Reaching back in, he uncovers James and then looks around for an escape route. Over by the main tent are several horses, fortunately still saddled. The Empire’s forces are over to the far side where the attackers from Madoc are mostly concentrated.
Hoping that his mistreated muscles will bear the weight he reaches down, lifts James over his shoulder and begins carrying him toward the horses. The sound of swords clashing and the cries of men caught within terrible magic resound throughout the clearing.
The gloom of twilight lends an eerie feel to the proceedings but gives Jiron the shelter he needs to remain unobserved as he crosses over to the awaiting horses. Once he’s reached them, he puts James over one and begins to secure him on.
“Jiron,” he hears him say as he’s tying his hands and feet together with a rope looped under the belly of the horse.
Moving to where his head hangs, he hears James ask, “What happened?”
“Captured by Empire soldiers,” he replies. “They took all our stuff and we’re getting out of here.”
“My crystals?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” he says as he cinches the last knot tight. Jerking his head toward the main tent they’re next to he adds, “Maybe in there. Do you need them?”
Shaking his head, he says, “As we leave, take me closer.”
Mounting the horse next to him he asks, “Why?”
“Just do it,” he says.
“Alright but we don’t have much time to waste,” Jiron tells him. Looking around, he can tell the battle is going badly for the men from Madoc. The Empire’s mage has all but wiped them out.
“Don’t need much,” he says.
As he takes the reins of James’ horse in hand, a cry arises nearby and he looks to see one of the Empire’s soldiers pointing in their direction and shouting. The mage turns and sees them on the horses, then pain suddenly erupts in Jiron’s middle and he almost falls off the horse. Bringing them close to the tent he says through the pain, “We’re here.”
In a voice cracking, speech slightly blurred, he says as loud as he can, “Spoilsport! Act Three! Fifteen!” As he utters the last word he can feel power being drawn from him by the crystal within the tent. Even Jiron notices as what little power he has is being pulled into it as well. To Jiron he says, “We haven’t much time.”
That’s all he needed to hear. Kicking his horse in the sides, he races toward the edge of the clearing, bowling over several soldiers in the process. The pain ripping through his middle increases dramatically and it’s all he can do simply to remain in the saddle and hold onto the reins to James’ horse.
Bolts start flying as crossbowmen begin taking shot at the fleeing duo but miss as Jiron dodges their horses this way and that to avoid the flying bolts. The Empire’s mage turns from the remnants of the Madoc attack force and moves quickly toward them, all the while maintaining the pain wracking Jiron’s body.
When he nears the main tent wherein the crystals lay, the effects of his spell on Jiron diminishes as his power begins to be drained as well. That’s when he takes note of what’s transpiring within the tent.
As the pain begins to ease up, Jiron looks back as he leaves the clearing and sees the mage beginning to enter the tent. From beside him, he can hear James counting, “…thirteen…fourteen…fif…” Before he can finish the word, a massive explosion rips through the tent and engulfs a good portion of the clearing. The concussion from the blast rolls over them and the horses stumble a moment. Jiron fears they may go down but they manage to right themselves and race to leave the destruction behind them.
“What was that?” Dave exclaims from where he and the others are beginning to make camp for the night.
Off to the east thunder rolls as a fiery blast is seen reaching to the sky many miles away. “That had to be James,” Miko replies anxiously. “He must be in trouble.”
A clatter of wood comes from the side of the camp where Fifer was bringing some back for the evening fire. “No resting tonight,” he says as glances around at all the faces. “He needs us.”
Not one person gainsays him. The plans to make camp and continue in the morning are set aside as they begin to hustle down the road in the fading light.
Jiron continues riding well into the night. Even though that blast most likely took out the mage and most of the others, he dares not stop. At one point James indicates he can ride and after a short stop to untie him and help him into the saddle, they continue down the road.
“You okay?” he asks him once they’ve resumed riding.
“Not great,” he replies. “Head still spins and doubt if I could do any magic for awhile, but other than that I think I’ll live.”
“What did you do back at the camp?” Jiron asks.
James glances at him and flashes him a grin. “Set a time bomb.”
“A time bomb?” he asks, never having heard the expression before.
“That’s right,” he replies. “Don’t ask me to explain, there are certain things I would rather not introduce to this world.”
“Why?” he asks in confusion.
“Let’s just say if the wrong people here come to know all that I do, it could lead to some very unpleasant things happening,” he explains. When Jiron turns to look at him, he gives his friend a serious look which says there’s no point in pursuing this any longer.
“As you wish,” he finally says. They ride on in silence for awhile as Jiron’s mind mulls over what he just said. He wonders what more James is capable of.
Another hour finds them coming to a river which exits from a break in the mountain and joins the road as it follows it down the side of the mountain to Madoc. James indicates they should pull off the road and make camp.
Moving far enough through the trees so that anyone passing by will unlikely be able to see them, they stop and set about making camp. James is all but exhausted, still not having recovered fully from the fight with the creatures and the effects of whatever was in the vial. Jiron offers to watch while he sleeps and he’s in no position to deny him. He no sooner lays his head on his arm than he’s out.
A
wakening in the morning, he finds Jiron has managed to catch, clean and cook a small animal for their breakfast. “Hungry?” he asks from where he sits at the fire. Next to him is a pile of leaves with James’ portion lying upon it.
“Man you know it,” he says as he gets to his feet and comes over. Shivering from the cold of the mountains, he readily moves closer to the fire. Jiron hands him the leaves with his food. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” Jiron replies. “Thought you might need it.”
After taking a bite, he sits there a moment chewing before he asks, “Do you think it wise to have a fire? Won’t it attract anyone in the area?”
Shrugging, he says, “You need it. Besides, that explosion had to have taken out most if not all the soldiers back there. Anyone else it might attract would probably be from Madoc.”
“Perhaps,” he replies. Then the memory of those two creatures comes to mind and he’s not so sure. He sits there and contemplates them, what they were and so forth. That’s when he notices Jiron’s knife sheathes are empty. “They took your knives?” he asks.
Nodding, Jiron says, “They took everything. After I killed the last of those creatures they showed up and took us to their camp. Thanks for those ice knives.”
James looks at him questioningly, “Ice knives?”
“Yeah,” he says. “After you passed out and the remaining creature crashed through the ice which had formed on the barrier, I saw two knives lying there on the ground. Thought you had made them.”
Thinking back, he vaguely remembers something about that. “Don’t recall doing that, but maybe. My memory is sort of hazy from then.”
“Understandable,” he says. “But irregardless, those ice knives did the trick. Where mine were ineffective, those worked perfectly.”
James sits there chewing as he attempts to recall exactly what happened but the memories of that time are still a bit foggy. Perhaps they’ll come back later. He does remember what he realized about those creatures, that they were creatures of fire. It stands to reason then that ice knives would have more of an effect upon them.
“You said those creatures weren’t entirely real,” Jiron says. “What did you mean by that?”
“One of the theories about the universe is that there are many levels,” he explains. “According to that theory the plane of existence we live upon is simply one among many. Some hold to the belief that there are planes of existence where fire, air, earth and water rule. This one we live on would be considered a sort of centralized one where each of the four has an equal footing. Each one has an opposite, the creatures of fire for example are hurt most by forces made up of water or ice.”
Jiron nods as he begins to understand, though is still having a hard time with the concepts.
“Gods and those associated with them live on yet another plane, one more removed from that of the elements. I’ll not even get into the theory of alternate reality and the fourth dimension. Those even stymie many of the great thinkers of my world.” Great thinkers, right! More like a bunch of kids in some backroom role playing. He smiles at the thought. These were just the sort of discussions he, Dave and the others used to have on a regular basis.
“How many planes are there?” Jiron asks.
Shrugging, James says “Who knows? Now all this still may be only conjecture and not fact. It’s just that after seeing those two creatures earlier brought it to mind. We may never learn one way or another.” Of course Igor and Morcyth have to come from somewhere don’t they?
James finishes the last of the roasted animal and gets up to go over to a stream where he takes several deep drinks. After that they put out the fire and remount to continue heading down the mountain.
The next several hours find them coming to the foothills at the base of the mountains and after cresting one such hill can see the plains open up below them. Several miles further ahead, smoke rises from a town nestled in among the hills. The road they’re on continues toward it and then through it as it disappears into the horizon to the east. Another road runs along the base of the mountains moving north and south.
“Think Kerrin and Gayle are there?” Jiron asks indicating the town ahead of them.
“They had to pass through in any event,” replies James. “We’ll ask around when we get there and see if we can discover anything.”
“Can you do that mirror thing?” he asks.
“Possibly,” he replies. “I’ll worry about that when we get there, should we be unable to locate them.”
Nodding, Jiron kicks his horse and they hurry along down the road.
Chapter Twenty Three
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The town they come to is fairly large, the smell of smoke from many iron smelters permeates the air. “Looks like they do a fair amount of iron smelting here,” comments Jiron as they ride past several buildings doing just that.
“It would seem so,” agrees James. Past the smelting complex they begin to enter the outskirts of the town itself. Several beggars line the streets with their hands out imploring the passersby to give them a coin. He feels sorry for them but has no coins with which to give, Kerrin and Gayle took all he and Jiron had. The horses they appropriated from the Empire’s camp didn’t have any on them when they checked earlier.
“How are you going to find out if they’re still here?” Jiron asks.
“I don’t know,” he replies as they continue riding casually through town. Ahead of him he spies the mouth of an alleyway and sitting against the corner of a building near the entrance is an open barrel. He moves his horse toward it and notices it is a barrel full of water, set there to catch the rain as it runs off the roof.
Glancing around he doesn’t see anyone in the immediate vicinity so brings his horse to a stop and dismounts. To Jiron he says as he nods to the barrel of water, “I’ll use this. Keep an eye out for anyone coming.”
“You got it,” he replies as he gets down and stands watch.
Moving to the barrel, James releases the magic as he concentrates on Kerrin and Gayle. The surface of the water shimmers momentarily and then he sees them riding along a road. The string of horses they had behind them earlier is nowhere to be found. He expands the image but is unable to tell in which direction they’re riding.
Letting the spell go, he then concentrates on the medallion bearing the Star of Morcyth. He wants to see if they got rid of it as well or if it still remains with them. The image shifts and becomes dark.
“Someone’s coming,” Jiron says quietly.
Canceling the spell, James gradually moves away from the barrel as the shopkeeper whose store they’re standing next to comes toward them with an empty bucket.
“Here now,” he says when he sees them loitering there. “What are you two up to?”
“Nothing, good sir,” James assures him. “Simply getting a little bit of water from your barrel.”
“This isn’t for everyone,” the man says with a grimace. “You two just move along now.” He stands there with a stern expression on his face.
“Let’s go,” James tells Jiron and they take their horses and begin walking away. He glances back after they’ve moved along a ways and sees the merchant filling his bucket from the barrel and then returns to his store.
“What did you find out?” Jiron asks quietly.
“They’re no longer in town,” he replies. “They no longer have our horses with them either.”
“Think they got rid of them here?” he asks.
“Would think so,” replies James. “I don’t think my medallion is with them either, though I couldn’t find out exactly before that merchant came along.”
“If we find the horses, we may find your medallion,” suggests Jiron.
“That’s what I was thinking too,” he replies. Pausing a moment, he then mounts and Jiron follows suit. They ride through town looking for the horses. He thought about doing his bubble seeker spell again but discards the idea. If one mage from the Empire was in the area, then another co
uld be too. The last thing he wants right now is to attract the attention of the wrong sort of people. After all, he’s weakened magically speaking and Jiron has no weapons.
Cruising through town, they come to the market square where numerous hawkers are making their pitch.
“Last fruit of the season!” one merchant hollers who’s standing out in front of a stand with the saddest lot of fruit James has ever seen. He suddenly has a desire to taste one of the peaches from home one more time. Sighing, he moves on.
“Come get the finest perfumes for your lady,” another says. “One of these will bring you closer to her heart.”
“Illion’s best knives here,” one lad says. He stands on a box in front of a store, a long wicked looking knife held in each hand. “Knives for every occasion! Whether for the lady in the kitchen or the warrior on the battlefield, we have them all!”
James glances over to Jiron and sees him longing to go over and examine the knives. If only they had the money they would stop and get him a couple. Then suddenly a memory surfaces, one from early on when he first came to this world.
It was shortly after leaving Trendle that first time, two men were being robbed and he helped fight off the thief. “Well James, if you’re ever in Illion, you’re welcome to our hospitality,” one of the men had said. “We own and operate an iron mine and smelter. Maybe you’ve heard of us, Renlon’s Iron?”
Turning to Jiron he says, “I may have an idea.” Stopping near a boy on the street he gets his attention and asks, “Could you tell me where I might find Renlon’s Iron?”
The boy gazes at him a moment and then points off down to another main street which branches off the one they’re on. “Turn down there and you’ll find it at the edge of town,” he says.
“Thanks,” replies James.
The Star of Morcyth: The Morcyth Saga Book Five Page 29
