That evening when they stop for the night, James takes the watch in the middle of the night. He likes that one cause it’s quiet and peaceful, giving him time to think about things. When he’s on watch, he usually goes over the magic he’s done and tries to figure out how to make it better, such as the bubble seeker spell he used in locating Jiron the other night.
This evening, he’s trying to come up with spells that will be effective against another mage. His last two trials hadn’t gone all that well, the first one at the City of Light almost killed him and ended up devastating a wide area. He needs to devise spells that will be effective against a mage, yet not destroy everything in the surrounding area. He might be in a town with innocent people the next time.
Maybe a series of spells, small spells that build on each other to breach the mage’s defenses. Two things that all mages need to do magic are concentration and power. You disturb either one of those and his ability to do magic disappears.
A good mage’s concentration will not be disrupted easily, something profound or totally unexpected would be needed. James considers different methods that might work as he walks around the campsite, trying to stay awake until Stig’s turn at watch.
On his fourth trip around the camp, from off in the distance he begins to see two white lights coming toward him. As they get closer, a roar begins to be heard as well. He’s about to wake everyone when he comes to the shocked realization of just what is approaching him.
He stands there with mouth slightly ajar in shock, as a beat up Ford pickup comes rolling into camp and pulls up with the passenger side next to him. James stands there expectantly, but at first nothing happens. Then he sees the driver lean over to his side and opens the door. Looking in, he sees the little creature with the felt hat sitting behind the steering wheel.
“Get in,” he says, motioning for James to enter the cab.
He looks around at his sleeping friends and says, “I can’t just leave them, I’m on watch.”
“They’ll be fine,” he tells James.
“Are you sure?”
Giving James a look of annoyance, he says again, “Get in.”
James climbs into the cab and shuts the door. With a roar, the little creature hits the gas and they drive away into the dark. He sits there as the truck rolls on, the creature turns the radio on and a George Strait song comes on. “Where are we going?” he asks.
“Going for pizza,” the creature tells him.
“Pizza?” he asks. “There’s pizza here?”
“Just have to know where to look,” the creature smiles as he continues down the road.
Road? James looks and suddenly realizes that they’re on a blacktop highway. Up ahead he sees the lights of civilization approaching. There’re not many buildings, the one closest to them has a sign out front that says ‘Mama’s Pizza.’
The creature pulls the truck into a parking spot outside Mama’s Pizza and parks it. Shutting the engine off, he gets out. Before he closes the door, he looks back at James who’s remained in the cab and asks, “Coming?”
“Yeah,” James says, as he gets out of the truck. Theirs is the only vehicle in the parking lot out front of Mama’s. The place looks a little rundown, similar to what his grandfather would’ve called a greasy spoon. He joins the little creature where he’s waiting at the door and they enter together.
The little creature opens the door and allows James to enter first. Once inside, he points over to a fat, dark haired woman behind the counter and says, “That’s Mama.”
She looks over to them as they enter and gives them a big smile, “It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she says. He gives her a nod and then leads James over to a table where they sit down.
An old tv is mounted to the wall over by mama who’s watching it with rapt attention. James is surprised to see she’s watching an old episode of Star Trek.
“She’s a Trekkie,” he tells him. “You should see her collection in the back room.”
James turns back to him and asks, “So why are we here?”
“For pizza, like I said,” the little guy replies. “I wanted some and I hate eating alone. It’s better with someone who is able to enjoy it with you, wouldn’t you say?”
“I suppose,” he says.
James watches as the little creature takes the salt shaker and pours a little salt on the table. Using great care he positions the salt shaker on its edge within the salt pile and then slowly removes his hands, leaving the salt shaker cocked to one side. He looks across the table to James with a satisfied smile on his face and asks, “Not bad, eh?”
“You sure don’t act like a god,” James tells him.
“Never said I was, just work for one,” replies the creature, as he continues to admire his accomplishment.
Mama goes into the back and comes out shortly with an extra large pepperoni pizza. She carries it over and places it on the table between them, then fetches a pitcher of soda with two glasses. “Enjoy,” she says before returning to watch her show.
Taking a big slice, the creature says, “Go ahead and help yourself.”
James watches as he takes an enormous bite, sauce trickling down the side of his mouth. Grabbing a slice for himself, he takes a bite and admits to himself that this is pretty good pizza.
“This is the one where they have to recharge the dilitium crystals,” she says from the counter. “I love this one.”
The little creature just smiles at him as he continues to eat. James sits there quietly while he eats and ponders why the creature had brought him here. Maybe it’s for company as he said, though James considers that highly unlikely.
“You’re more talkative this time,” he observes.
“That a problem?” the little guy asks through a mouthful of pizza.
James shakes his head and says, “No, just thought you weren’t supposed to answer questions.”
“Can’t you just relax and enjoy yourself?” the creature says, a little annoyed.
“Okay, okay,” James replies. “You never told me your name.”
“Its true pronunciation, you’d be unable to manage,” he says. “Just call me Igor.”
“Igor?” James asks about ready to laugh.
“Yes, Igor,” he replies. “As in Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant.”
“Alright,” James says, “Igor.”
They sit and continue eating the pizza, James is amazed at the speed with which Igor consumes each slice. He’s barely had three before Igor removes the last slice for himself. Giving out with a loud, satisfied belch, Igor sits back in his chair while James finishes the last couple of bites.
When the last bite enters his mouth, Igor stands up and asks, “Shall we?”
James swallows the last bite and asks, “We’re leaving?”
“Yes, it’s time to take you back,” replies Igor.
Getting up, James takes his glass and drains the rest of it before following Igor outside.
“Come back again,” Mama says from behind the counter as they leave.
On the way back to the truck, Igor pauses as he looks down at a mud puddle by his feet. James pauses before entering the cab as he notices him there. Bending over, Igor picks up something shiny out of the puddle and holds it up for James to see. “A nickel,” he says happily. “You never know what treasure you’ll find, even in the dirtiest of places.”
“That’s true, I suppose,” James says as he opens the cab door and gets in the truck.
Igor gets in, starts the motor and backs out onto the road. Heading back the way they had come, he soon has the truck speeding into the night.
They both remain quiet until James asks, “Did Cassie have to die?”
“Everyone dies, James,” he says, glancing over to him. “It’s just a matter of when.”
“But they were so happy together,” James replies. “Couldn’t they have had some time together?”
“Not for me to say,” Igor tells him.
Soon, James sees the fire from their camp up ahead and Igor brings him right into the middle of it by the campfire. Looking out the window, he sees everyone still sleeping, the roar of the truck motor not even causing them to stir. “See you later,” Igor says as he stops and lets James out.
James opens the door and gets out of the cab. Before shutting it he pauses, glances back and asks, “When?”
“When it happens,” Igor says with a smile. “Good luck,” he says just before James closes the door. Then with a roar, the truck gets going and James watches until the tail lights have disappeared into the night.
James continues his watch as he ponders the meaning of these visits. Why does he keep showing up? Is it just for a visit like he says, or is there more to it? And ‘Igor’, what kind of name is that for a being like him? The pizza was good though, he thinks as he belches, bringing forth reminiscence of pepperoni.
He begins to grow tired and realizes his time at watch is about over. Moving through the sleeping bodies to where Stig is sleeping, he wakes him up for his turn at watch.
In the morning when he awakens with the dawn, he goes over to where the truck had been and isn’t too surprised when he finds no tire tracks in the dirt. Shaking his head, he joins the others in preparing the caravan to get underway. It’s not too long before they are once again on the road, heading southwest along the river.
Throughout the day as they continue down the road, they come across little hamlets and villages with increasing frequency. At one point, they have to pull over to allow a long column of soldiers to pass on their way north.
“Must be heading to Madoc,” Yorn says, commenting to Jiron as they watch them pass.
“Probably,” states Jiron. “Hope they get cut to pieces,” he says, barely above a whisper.
Several heads nod in agreement.
Once the column has passed, they’re able to bring their wagons back onto the road and continue on their way. The amount of traffic on the road slowly increases as the day progresses, and soon James can smell the familiar scent of the sea. “We’re getting close to the ocean,” he tells them.
“Azzac, the Empire’s capitol, is on the ocean,” Roland says.
“Must be getting close to it then,” he figures.
After another mile, the great city of Azzac comes into view before them. Larger than any city they have yet seen, it sprawls along the river for over a mile before it meets the ocean. A large wall surrounds the city as it stretches miles in both directions down the coastline.
Upon the water beyond the city are dozens of ships tied to the long line of docks. More are out upon the sea, some leaving and some preparing to dock. “This place is massive!” he exclaims.
“Unbelievable,” he hears someone mutter from behind him.
“Hopefully we can get in and find out where Miko is fast, then be on our way,” Jiron says.
“Man that’s right,” agrees Shorty.
“James,” Delia says, “it looks like there’s a place for caravans to the north of the city.”
Looking to where she’s indicating, he sees the caravansary and angles in that direction. At the caravansary, an official looking man flanked by two guards comes forward to greet them. “Welcome to Azzac, strangers,” he says. “If you could show me your letter of travel?”
James takes it out and offers it to him and the man takes it. The official looks at it, sees the name and seal at the bottom and then returns it to him. “There’s a tax of three coppers per wagon to stay here,” he tells him.
Taking the coins out of his pouch, he hands them over to him.
“Thank you,” the official says. “Find any place you like to set up camp.” He then turns and walks back to a tent set up along the road to the caravansary.
They find a good spot near the river and set up camp. Delia takes Roland with her to deliver several packages that are marked for here. She takes Scar and Potbelly along as well.
“You be careful,” James warns her. “If there is anyplace we’re most likely to be discovered, it’s here.”
“Don’t fret,” she assures him. “I’ll be in and out fast.”
James watches as she drives the wagon into Azzac, worried about the ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ running through his mind.
After they’ve finished getting everything settled in, James takes out his mirror and tries to locate Miko. Jiron and Tersa come over and sit by him as he makes the attempt. They look at the mirror and watch as Miko’s face begins to appear. As he broadens the scope, they discover that he’s still riding in a wagon. As he expands the scene even further, they’re able to see a large expanse of ocean off to his right.
“So he’s still following the coast south?” Tersa reasons.
“It looks like it,” agrees James. “At least he’s alive and appears to be doing okay.”
“As long as he’s not dead yet, there’s still hope,” Jiron adds.
“That’s right,” he says. “Let’s get Delia’s deliveries done and get the heck out of here.”
Stig comes over and asks, “Do you think we might be able to go in and have a drink?”
James just looks at him and says, “After the last time? I don’t think so.”
“We’ll be careful,” Stig says.
“No,” James tells him, “not here. Down the road maybe, but not here. Too dangerous.”
“James’s right,” Jiron says.
Disappointed, he goes back to his fellows and breaks the news to them. Jiron and James can hear groans coming from them as he tells them his reply. Here the seat of the enemy’s power? He would have to be mad to allow it.
Three hours later when the daylight begins to fade, Delia has yet to return. James has been pacing around the last hour, dread growing with every passing minute. “Something’s wrong,” he tells Jiron when he comes to a stop next to him.
“Not necessarily,” he says. “She’s been gone longer than this before.”
“If she waits much longer she may run the risk of having the gates close on her,” James says.
“Do the gates close here at night?” Jiron asks.
“I don’t know, but there’s always the chance,” he replies.
“What should we do?” he asks.
“Let’s go and find her,” James suggests.
“Good, I’m tired of just sitting here,” he says.
“What about the rest of us?” Tersa asks nervously.
“Just stay here with them,” James says indicating Stig and the others, “and we’ll be back as soon as we find them.” He then goes over and explains to them what he and Jiron are about to do and then they begin walking toward the gates to the city.
“We don’t even speak the language,” Jiron says.
“Hopefully that won’t be a problem,” James tells him. “I’ve seen many northerners here so hopefully we won’t stick out too much.”
“Where are we going to start looking?” Jiron asks before they reach the gate.
“Not sure,” he replies.
At the gate, they’re looked at by the guards, but other than that cursory examination, are allowed to pass through into the city.
“Going to do that bubble thing again?” Jiron asks.
“Maybe,” he says. “Let’s look around first through the merchant’s district and see if we can’t locate them that way.” He feels a tingling sensation and looks around. Sure enough, he sees a mage walking through the crowd on the street. He points him out to Jiron as he pulls him close and whispers, “He’s doing magic of some sort. I can feel it.”
Considering that fact for a second, he whispers back to James, “Will they be able to sense you if you do magic?”
James nods, “I would think so.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t do the bubble thing,” he says.
“Only if we have to,” James replies.
They walk through the streets, looking for any sign of Delia and the others. They pass many merchant’s establishments but fail to find any clue as to their whereabouts. By this time it’s becoming fairly dark and they see two people with long poles, each with a flame at the end, begin walking the streets. They go from streetlamp to streetlamp, lighting the lamps hanging there to give the people on the street light to see by.
“This is hopeless!” Jiron exclaims, “They could be anywhere.”
“I agree, we’ll never find them this way. The city is just too large,” he says.
James leads Jiron into an empty side alley where he takes out his mirror that he brought along and begins concentrating on Delia. They both gaze into the mirror as her features begin to form. James hears Jiron gasp when they see her sitting on the floor in a small room. The others are there with her and the looks on their faces tells them they’re not happy.
“They’re in trouble!” says Jiron.
“It would appear so,” James replies. “I told her to be careful!”
He expands the view, hoping to see where they are being kept until finally managing to get a bird’s eye view of the estate wherein she is being held. He tries to expand it even further when Jiron touches his arm and whispers, “Mage!”
James looks out of the alley to the street where he sees a brown robe walking toward the alley entrance. He stops the spell and immediately the brown robe pauses, turning his head first one way and then the other. It seems almost like he’s searching, trying to rediscover the source of the magic. James and Jiron hold their breath and remain pressed against the side of the alley as they watch the mage there in the street, until he finally turns and walks down the street to their right.
“He knew you were doing magic,” Jiron whispers.
“Apparently so,” James replies as he sticks his head out the alley to watch the brown robe continuing down the street away from them.
“Let’s go,” he says. “I got a pretty good look at where they’re being kept. It’s a large estate with plenty of grounds surrounding it.”
“Sounds like someone important,” Jiron reasons, “or rich.”
Stepping out of the alley, they follow the street as it moves closer to the river and the castle. Estates of that size are most likely to be located in that area, hopefully.
They proceed for a few more blocks before coming to the inner wall. A single gate stands open with two guards watching as people pass through.
“Doesn’t look as if they’re stopping anyone,” James says hopefully.
“Maybe it’s because they already know them?” Jiron suggests.
Shrugging, James says, “Only one way to know for sure.” He steps out, followed closely by Jiron and begins to walk toward the gate, heart beating rapidly in anticipation of a confrontation. The guards see them approach but don’t stop or question them as they pass through.
Once through to the other side, James breathes a sigh of relief. They continue down the street, now in a much more affluent section of town. Not too far past the gate, they come to where the street splits. One section continues on toward the keep and the other moves away from the keep. The street moving away from the keep looks to head toward an area with estates.
James glances to Jiron and indicates the area away from the keep. When he sees Jiron nod in agreement, he turns to follow that street.
“Which one is it?” Jiron asks after they’ve traveled down that street and have begun to enter the estate area.
“I’m not sure,” he replies as they continue down the street. Then, on a hill off to their left he sees the estate that was in the mirror. “That’s it!” he exclaims as he points it out to Jiron.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Absolutely,” James replies.
The estate has a stone wall going all the way around it’s perimeter with but a single gate for an entrance. The gate has a well lit guardhouse with a guard keeping watch. The area between the wall and the house is fairly clear except for a small area containing plants and bushes, probably for the lady of the house.
“Let’s go around back and see if there’s a better spot to try to get in,” Jiron advises.
James nods his head as he follows him around the outside of the wall.
“It doesn’t seem to be guarded,” says Jiron suspiciously.
“We’re in the heart of the empire, who would be dumb enough to break into a noble’s estate here?” James reasons.
“You may be right,” Jiron agrees. He gets close to the wall and jumps up, grabbing the top as he pulls himself up and then quickly scans the area on the other side of the wall for guards.
“See anything?” James asks.
“No, it looks clear,” he tells him from the top. Reaching down, he says, “Give me your hand and I’ll help you up.”
James takes his hand and Jiron pulls him to the top of the wall. They quickly drop down to the other side and squat for a few seconds in the shadows to observe what’s going on. The area between the wall and the manor house is dark and they don’t see anything moving. With Jiron in the lead, they make their way across the open lawn to the side of the house near a darkened window.
Jiron silently moves to the window and peers inside, but is unable to make out anything in the dark. With great caution, he tests the window and finds it locked. Taking out one of his knives, he slides it in the narrow space between the two sides and lifts the latch. Replacing his knife in his belt, he pulls the window open and then quickly slips inside.
Reaching his hand down, he helps James in through the window and then closes it once again. Jiron begins moving around, trying to find the door when a soft glow begins to fill the room. Looking back, he sees James there with the glowing orb in his hands. The orb is barely giving off any light at all, just enough so they can make out the details of the room and won’t be stumbling around.
“Thanks,” Jiron whispers.
Grinning, James replies quietly, “No problem.”
The light shows that they’re in a study of some kind with but a single door leading out. Jiron moves over to it and places his ear against the door, listening for any sound coming from the other side. After a minute, he shakes his head and says, “Nothing.”
“Good,” James says.
Jiron slowly opens the door and then shuts it again quietly as he turns to James. “They’re not going to come looking for magic because of that, are they?” he asks, pointing to the glowing orb in James’ hand.
“I wouldn’t think so,” he replies. “It’s hardly using any magic at all.”
With a brief nod, Jiron again opens the door and a dim light comes through it. James cancels the orb and it disappears as Jiron opens the door wider. He cautiously looks down the hallway to either side. He turns back to James and in a barely audible whisper, says, “There’s a light down to the right, to the left is dark.”
“Try the left?” he suggests.
Jiron nods in agreement and then he again checks the hallway. Not seeing anyone, he opens the door wider and silently exits the room to the hallway, making his way down toward the left.
Once he’s out of the room, James follows and then closes the door behind them. He can hear muffled voices coming from the room down the hallway to the right where the light is emanating from, but is too far away to be able to make any of it out.
Jiron stays to the left side of the hallway as he quietly makes his way down to the next door on the right. He pauses a moment as he listens at the door. Not hearing anything, he proceeds further down the hallway. They pass two doors facing each other and after a moment’s listening at each, Jiron continues past them.
A little ahead of them they see light emanating around the corner where the hallway turns to the right. Jiron turns to James and whispers, “Wait here.”
James nods his head and then watches as Jiron silently walks to the edge of the corridor and peers around it. After only a brief look, he brings his head back quickly and then motions James closer. “There’s a guard standing in the hallway about ten feet down. There’s a torch in the wall near him.”
“Should we take him out do you think?” James asks.
“If we do, we may be alerting the whole place that we’re here,” Jiron replies. “He may not even be guarding Delia and the others.”
“Can’t think of any other reason to post a guard in a hallway,” reasons James. “I say we’ve got to do it.”
“Can you do it?” Jiron asks. “I would need to be closer to take him out before he could raise the alarm.”
“Yeah,” James replies, not liking the fact of having to kill someone like this, but what choice does he have. He removes a slug from his belt and silently moves to the corner and peers around. Seeing the guard there, he gathers his thoughts before stepping into the hallway. Before the guard even realizes he’s there, he releases the magic and throws.
The slug flies straight and true, striking him in the head. The guard sags to the floor unconscious. “Come on!” James says to Jiron as he hurries to where the guard lies on the floor.
“He’s not dead!” Jiron exclaims when he realizes the guard lying there is only unconscious. A sizeable goose egg of a bump shows where the slug had hit him in the temple.
“I held back a little,” admits James. “I didn’t want to kill him that way.”
The guard, as it turns out, had been standing in front of stairs leading down.
“Let’s put him in one of the rooms we passed,” Jiron suggests.
“Alright,” agrees James. They lift him up and carry him back to the corner where they pause a moment as Jiron peers down the hallway. Seeing the coast is clear, they go to the first door on the right and open it slowly as they look inside. It’s a bedroom, but empty and doesn’t looks as if it’s been used for some time. They deposit the guard on the bed and then bind and gag him. Once the guard is secured, Jiron returns to the door and opens it a crack as he makes sure the hallway still remains empty. Finding that it is, they leave the room, closing the door behind them.
They quickly make it back to the stairs where Jiron takes the lead as they begin to descend to the lower level. At the bottom of the stairs, they find a door that’s slightly ajar. Jiron cautiously opens it further and peers around to the other side where he sees an empty corridor leading away from the door. He opens it further and motions for James to follow him through.
Following the corridor with James right behind, they pass two other closed doors on their way, pausing momentarily to listen at each. Not hearing anything, he continues down to the door at the end, where light can be seen coming through the cracks from the other side.
As they draw near to the door, they’re able to hear voices speaking from the other side. “…tell me!” one voice yells and then they hear the sound of someone being slapped hard.
“Again,” the voice says and then a female can be heard crying out in pain.
“Delia!” Jiron cries as he races for the door. James readies a slug as Jiron hits the door with his shoulder, causing it to open and swing into the room, slamming hard against the wall. With both knives ready, he quickly surveys the room.
It takes but a moment to realize what’s been happening, Roland, Scar and Potbelly are sitting along one wall, hands chained to the wall. Delia lies stretched spread-eagled upon a table, her hands and feet secured with ropes to the corners.
A well dressed man stands next to the table with another whom James can only believe is a dealer in pain. They’ve been torturing Delia! Two guards spring into action and immediately draw their swords as they move to engage Jiron.
“Jiron!” Potbelly cries out from where he sits against the wall when the door bursts open and sees him enter.
The two guards close with Jiron, one falling when a slug strikes him in the face blasting out the back of his head. Jiron parries a thrust from the other with one knife and then strikes out with the other, catching the guard in the neck, severing the jugular. Grabbing his neck, the guard tries to stop the blood spewing forth as he stumbles and falls to the floor. Jiron kicks out his foot on his way down and can hear a snap when the man’s neck breaks.
The well dressed man has his sword out and has the edge lying across Delia’s throat. “Enough!” he cries. “Or she’s dead.”
Jiron stands there, seething with impotent anger. Unable to do aught else, he stops.
James sees a ring of keys on one of the guards and reaches down to pick them up when the well dressed man says, “Don’t, or she dies.”
“It seems we’re in a pickle here,” James tells him as he straightens back up. “We’re not about to leave without them,” he says as he gestures to Delia and the others, “and if you cut her throat you’re a dead man.”
He just stands there with his sword at her throat, considering the situations. The torturer next to him says with authority, “You dare not hurt the High Lord Cytok. He’s the right hand to the Emperor himself!”
“Shut up you fool!” Lord Cytok yells to the man. Turning back to James and Jiron, he says, “You two, get over there next to the others.” He nods his head indicating they should go over to where Scar, Potbelly and Roland are sitting along the wall. He menaces Delia with his sword until they begin to move over there.
Delia watches them with her eyes, fear of the sword at her throat preventing her from doing or saying anything.
“James,” Jiron says quietly as they move closer to where the others sit, “do something.”
“I’m working on it,” he replies.
“Go get Kirtch and Prul,” he says to the torturer who then moves quickly to the door.
James concentrates on Delia’s exposed neck and then releases the magic. “Go ahead,” he says to Jiron, “he can’t hurt her now.”
Trusting in James, Jiron is up in a flash and rushes toward Lord Cytok.
The torturer breaks into a run as he races through the door and begins screaming on his way to the stairs.
Lord Cytok runs his sword across Delia’s throat but it only slides along an invisible barrier encasing her throat. Shocked at seeing the ineffectiveness of his sword, he turns to Jiron and prepares to defend himself.
“We need him alive,” James says. “We’ll never make it out without him.”
With a slight nod, Jiron closes with Lord Cytok. Deflecting a thrust with one knife, he strikes out with other but Lord Cytok dances backward and the knife misses by inches. The battle is joined.
James gets the keys from the dead guard and goes over to free Scar.
“Thanks, James,” Potbelly says. “We were hoping you might show up.”
“Yeah man,” Scar says when James had freed him.
He gives Scar the keys to remove the other’s shackles before going over to Delia. He takes out his knife and cuts through her bonds. He helps her to her feet just as Roland comes over to assist her. Delia stands up, a little bit shaky and James asks, “Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” she assures him.
Scar and Potbelly have taken the guards’ swords and stand to the door to keep a look out. Scar turns back to the others and cries, “We’ve got company!”
Suddenly, a crash and James looks over to see Lord Cytok’s sword lying on the ground and Jiron with his knife to his throat.
“Tell your men out there to drop their weapons and come inside,” Jiron orders him.
A man from the hallway hollers something to Lord Cytok.
Jiron begins pressing the point of his dagger into his throat and says, “One of us understands your language, so don’t do anything stupid.”
He hollers back to his men.
Jiron looks to Roland and asks, “Did he tell them to drop their weapons?”
Roland shakes his head and replies, “They asked if he was okay and he told them he’s okay, but held at knifepoint.”
“Tell them to drop their weapons and come inside, NOW!” Jiron insists as a drop of blood wells from where the point of the knife had punctured the skin.
Lord Cytok hollers to his men and James glances to Roland who nods his head.
Soon they hear weapons falling to the ground and then his men, four of them, step into the room. The torturer isn’t among them.
“Where’s the other guy!” Jiron demands when he realizes he’s not among them.
Roland asks and when one of the men replies, Lord Cytok begins laughing.
“What’s so funny,” Jiron asks.
“He’s gone to raise the alarm,” he tells him. “Soon this whole area will be swarming with soldiers.” With a satisfied smirk on his face, he stares at James.
“We’ll never make it out!” Potbelly exclaims.
“Maybe,” says James, “if we’re fast enough.”
“Secure them to the wall,” James tells Scar and Potbelly who start taking Lord Cytok’s guards and placing them in the chains that had once been theirs. “Gag them too,” he advises them.
“Right,” Scar says as he picks up the most dirty, disgusting rags available, taking great pleasure in stuffing them in their mouths.
“Now, milord,” James says to Lord Cytok. “I hate to ask but please lie down on the table here.”
“Never!” he says adamantly.
Once Scar and Potbelly have the guards secured, they come over and force Lord Cytok onto the table, securing his arms and legs to the restraints. “Use a cleaner rag for his gag,” James tells them, “after all, he is a Lord.”
When he’s secured and gagged, James says, “You guys go on up and see what’s going on while Roland and I help Delia up the stairs.”
“I can walk,” she says as the others run down the hallway and up the stairs. Roland puts one of her arms across his shoulders to help support her. For despite her assertion that she can walk, her legs are a little unsteady. With James in the lead, they make their way to the stairs.
When they reach the top, they see Jiron racing back toward them. “Nothing yet,” he tells them.
“Good,” says James as they continue down the hallway, going back the way they had come. Moving past the room where they saw the light earlier, James notices it’s empty now. Most likely whoever had been in there is now back in the room with Lord Cytok, chained to the wall.
A little further past the room, the hallway opens up onto the foyer where they see Scar and Potbelly looking out the front door. Scar turns at their approach and says “It looks clear out there.”
“Then let’s move,” Jiron urges as they leave the house and run toward the gate. The guard that had been there earlier is absent, most likely sitting in the basement with his fellows. Potbelly reaches the gate first and opens it. He moves through to the other side and looks for anyone in the vicinity. Not finding anyone, he motions for the others to pass through to the street.
They begin running, making their way down the road a short ways before they see a large group of armed men running toward Lord Cytok’s estate.
They duck down a side alley and remain motionless as they wait for them to race past. Several brown robes could be seen among the running soldiers.
“Mages,” James says once they’re past. “How are we going to get out of here now?”
“I don’t know,” Scar replies. “But we better hurry before it’s too late.
Jiron looks out on the street and sees the way the soldiers had come is clear for the moment. They step out of the alley and race down the street away from Lord Cytok’s estate, hoping to escape the city before it’s too late.