Waking up, James finds his head much clearer. He tries to summon his orb and succeeds then cancels it. He’s much relieved now that the effect of the drug he was exposed to in the Eye’s Court has worn off.
Rays of light enter through cracks in the boards covering the windows. In the dim light he sees Jiron standing at the window gazing through to the street outside. Other than Jiron and himself, no one else is awake.
As he gets up, his feet make a scuffing noise across the floor. Jiron glances over at the sound and sees him rising. Giving him a nod and a slight grin, Jiron returns his gaze back to the street outside.
James carefully makes his way through the sleeping forms and comes to his side. “What’s going on out there?” he whispers.
“Seems most of the town has come by at one time or another to see what happened,” he explains. “At first there were but a few guards and soldiers out there sifting through the rubble. Then about an hour ago, a force of over a hundred showed up, cordoned off the whole area and made a sweep of the surrounding buildings.”
Seeing the worried look in his eyes, Jiron says, “One soldier came by and looked in through the window but moved on his way. Can’t believe he didn’t see you guys there on the floor sleeping.”
“Luck must be with us,” James observes.
“Must be,” he says. “I’m not sure exactly what is going on, but the commander in charge of the men divided them up in squads of ten and sent them through the town. It won’t be long before they figure out what happened and who was here.”
“If they haven’t already,” adds James. He thinks for a moment then asks, “How far away is the inn from here do you think?”
“It isn’t close, that’s for sure,” Jiron replies. “You’re not thinking about going back and retrieving the horses are you?”
“You got a better idea?” he asks. “Without them, we won’t get far.”
“I agree,” he acknowledges. “But there’s no reason we have to have ours, any will do.” He then turns back to the window and points through two of the boards to a building across the street. Four soldiers stand guard by the entrance. “They put their horses in there. There are over a score.”
James takes in the building, the guards, and the fact that it’s across an open street. “Pretty ambitious aren’t you?” he asks. “They’ll see us.”
“Just a thought,” he says. “Always like to know our options.”
“What’s out the back?” James asks him.
“Not much,” replies Reilin. Having heard them talking, he decided to get up and see what’s going on. “The back door opens onto an alley that runs for a ways. Last night while on guard duty I checked it out.”
“Could we make our way out through the alley and return to the inn to get our horses?” James asks.
Shrugging, Reilin says, “I don’t know. I didn’t explore that far.”
Turning to James, Jiron says, “You keep an eye on what’s going on out there and I’ll find out.”
“Be careful,” James says as Jiron begins moving toward the back door. As soon as Jiron disappears into the back, James returns his attention to the goings on outside. Not much is happening other than people working through the rubble in the hopes of finding survivors.
One by one the others wake up. Miko is the last to awaken and sits up just as Jiron returns.
“Well?” James asks as Jiron comes from the back.
Giving him a grin, he says, “The alley out back runs along the backside of a courtyard of another inn. And guess how many horses are in the stable?”
“Enough for all of us?” James asks.
Nodding, Jiron says, “That’s right.”
“We should leave now,” Scar suggests, “while everyone’s busy out there sifting through the rubble.”
“My thought exactly,” agrees Jiron.
“The gates out of the city are going to be watched,” warns Reilin. “They’ll not let us simply leave.”
“I doubt if that will change even if we were to wait for a week,” states James. “We go now.” To Jiron he says, “Take Stig and Shorty with you and get the horses ready.”
“Right,” he says and indicates for the two men to follow him. Just before he leaves the room, Jiron pauses and turns back to face James. “When you follow, it’s to the left out the back door.”
“Got it,” he says. Then Jiron leaves the room.
Moving over to Brother Willim, James asks, “How are you holding up?”
“Actually doing quite well,” he replies.
“That’s good,” James says. “There’s something that’s been bothering me.”
“What?” the priest of Asran asks.
“Back there in the building, the drug in the air affected my ability to summon magic,” he says. “Yet you were able to. Why?”
“My magic comes from a different source than yours,” Brother Willim explains. “Where you must direct and channel the power, I have merely to ask.” He can see James is somewhat understanding what he’s saying. “Can’t really explain it better than that.”
“I think I understand,” states James. “Priest magic, and that which I use, manipulates the same source of power. Only, yours comes from your god whereas I take it from within me and the world around us.”
“Something like that,” nods Brother Willim. “But as priests, we are unable to do some of the things you can. We are limited to what our god allows.”
“Checks and balances,” James says. “No matter what, there’s always something that will limit even the most powerful of people.”
“Never heard it put quite that way before,” he says. “But you’re right.”
Jiron leads Stig and Shorty out the back and down to the inn’s courtyard. Pausing at the entrance, he makes sure the area is clear. Not seeing anyone, he waves for the other two to follow him and they make a dash for the stables.
Once inside, they find that the horses’ saddle and tack are stored on shelves in the room at the rear of the stable. They go and each get a saddle with associated gear and begin to saddle the horses. Stig and Shorty finish cinching the last belt tight on their horses at the same time and go together to retrieve another saddle for the next horse.
While they are in the back gathering the appropriate equipment, a man walks into the stable and stops once he sees Jiron saddling the horse. Jiron freezes when the man begins talking to him. When Jiron fails to reply, the man pulls his sword and backs out of the inn.
Hoping to catch him before he can raise the alarm, Jiron chases him out into the courtyard. Just outside the stable he sees the man he was chasing with another dozen men. Unable to stop in time, he dodges to the side and barely evades a blade aimed at his head.
He hits the ground and rolls twice before coming back to his feet. Now, six of the men are between him and the stables. The other six are fanned out in the courtyard moving to surround him. Two of the six by the stables are moving to engage him. He strikes out at one, causing the man to jump back to avoid being struck and parries the thrust of the other. Then out of the corner of his eye he sees over twenty soldiers enter the courtyard from the entrance on the far side.
Deciding there are too many with which to deal with effectively, he back steps quickly toward the alley entrance that he originally entered the courtyard by. A sword strikes out at him and he deflects it to the side just as the other man attacks him with an overhand hack. Twisting, he manages to avoid the blow.
Stig appears in the stable’s door with Shorty right behind him. Jiron sees them there set to enter the fray. “No!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. There’re too many for them to fight their way through.
His cry, which had been directed at Stig and Shorty, causes the men before him to hesitate. Making use of the momentary lull, he turns and runs into the alley.
Stig and Shorty, realizing that there’s nothing they can do, duck back inside the stable. The men and the soldiers race past the stable door and pursue Jiron into the alley.
“Come on man!” Stig hollers as he runs over to one of the horses. Mounting, he waits a second for Shorty to do the same. Then just as they are about to leave the stable…
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
…and they know that James has joined the fray.
James and the others leave the building they spent the night in and are making their way down the alley toward where Jiron said the inn was located. Then the clash of weapons comes to them and they hear Jiron yell “No!”
“They’re in trouble!” Aleya shouts and they rush forward. They don’t get more than two steps before Jiron races into the alley at a dead run. A second later a swarm of screaming men emerges behind him.
“Go!” he yells as he sprints toward them.
Now that sneaking out of the city is no longer an option, James lets the magic go…
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
…and the ground erupts under the charging men, throwing them into the air.
Then from neighboring streets, the sounds of horns blare forth as they tell the world where he is. Then from both ends of the alley, the soldiers which had arrived earlier that morning begin pouring in. “Back inside!” James yells and turns around.
Before he can get moving, Jiron races past him and bolts into the building they had just exited. “Move!” James yells as he and the others run for the doorway.
Miko is the last to pass through and slams the door shut. Throwing the bar, he puts his shoulder against the door as the soldiers on the other side begin beating against it.
“It’s clear on this side,” Jiron says from the window. “They’ve all rushed to the sound of the horns.”
“What happened to Stig and Shorty?” James asks.
“They were still in the stable when all hell broke loose,” he says. “I think they’re still alive.” Then he nods to the building across the street where the soldier’s horses are being kept. “Shall we?”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“It’s not going to hold for long,” Miko yells.
James nods to Jiron, “Let’s go.” Then to Miko he yells, “Hold it as long as you can.”
Reilin moves to add his strength to Miko’s and places his shoulder against the door. “Just hurry!” he yells to him.
Bang!
“You stay here and when we have the horses ready, you all come at once,” James tells Brother Willim.
Nodding, he says, “Good luck.”
Aleya comes forward and says, “I’m coming too.”
Jiron pauses as if he’s going to object then nods. “Okay,” he says. Throwing open the door, he runs across the street to the doorway through which the horses are kept. James and Aleya follow.
When the people on the street see them emerge from the building, they begin to holler, scream and flee. Three soldiers appear from out of nowhere and James takes one out with a slug and prepares to launch another. “You two get the horses,” he tells them, “I’ll hold them off.” Letting the second slug fly, he pulls another from his belt. Jiron and Aleya rush in through the door as he sends the third slug flying.
A shimmer appears around him as his shield springs to life. Standing there in the street, the shimmering shield surrounding him, he scans both directions.
Ping!
A crossbow bolt ricochets off the barrier. Turning in the directions the bolt originated from, he sees men beginning to boil out of an alley further down. Not able to make it through the door Miko and Reilin are holding shut, some have decided to make an end run and try to take them from behind.
Ping!
Another bolt strikes the barrier as more crossbowmen join the fray.
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
Explosions rip the street as the leading edge of the charging men is thrown into the air. Now from the other direction, more soldiers enter the street. Turning to them he again lets loose with the power.
Crumph! Crumph!
Men are thrown in the air as the ground beneath their feet explodes outwards. Moving to the doorway Jiron and Aleya passed through, he yells, “Hurry up in there!” Glancing inside, he sees two dead soldiers who must have been inside when Jiron entered. The wounds on their body are indicative of those made by a knife.
“Just a few more!” Aleya hollers back as she throws another saddle onto a horse.
Returning his attention to the street and the soldiers approaching from both directions, he moves away from the building and makes his way to the middle of the road. Both forces of men have now slowed to a crawl as they’ve come to realize they face a mage. Going through some of their minds is the possibility this may be the very same mage they’ve heard tales about.
Then suddenly from out of the doorway wherein Miko and Reilin are holding the door shut, Brother Willim and the others emerge at a run. “The door gave way!” he shouts to James.
Nodding, James indicates the doorway wherein Aleya and Jiron work to saddle the horses. “In there,” he says.
The two forces that had been advancing slowly, suddenly break into an all out run toward him, possibly in response to Brother Willim and the others fleeing across the street. Bolts fly toward them. A green glow manifests around Brother Willim as he uses his staff in a blurring defense and knocks the bolts aside.
With a thought, James creates two spheres of power, similar to that which he used in the Eye’s Court. Throwing one to the right and one to the left, he hollers, “Leech by a hundred.” As soon as the last word leaves his lips, the two spheres flash and soldiers drop. When he realizes the leeching radius isn’t wide enough to completely block off the street, he says, “Radius by four.”
Now men are falling all over and the two spheres are glowing a dangerous crimson. Running for the doorway where the others went, he dives through just as one sphere reaches critical mass and explodes. A second later, the other one goes.
Two massive fireballs erupt into the sky. Those buildings closest in proximity are rocked on their foundations, two actually collapse. James is knocked to the floor by the concussion wave.
The building James and the others are in rocks from the force of the blast. One wall shivers and cracks. They fear it’s going to give way and bring the entire building down on top of their heads but it only settles several inches before coming to a rest once more.
“James!” Jiron hollers.
Looking through the dust in the air, he sees Jiron in the saddle. Next to him is a horse saddled and ready. Getting up off the floor, he races for the horse and practically leaps into the saddle. “This way,” Jiron says and leads him further into the building which as it turns out is a very large stable. They pass many stalls containing additional horses as they head to the large opening at the other end.
Moving quickly, they soon rejoin the others. Four more dead soldiers lay across the ground near the exit. Reilin, Scar and Potbelly are wiping their blades on the clothes of the dead men. When they see Jiron and James coming, they quickly mount.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jiron says and bolts down the street toward the nearest gate.
“What happened to Stig and Shorty?” asks Potbelly.
“I don’t know,” replies Jiron. “They were alive when we got separated.”
“They’re smart and resourceful,” adds Scar. “They’ll make it.” Racing away from the scene of destruction behind them, they make their way through the streets.
Just then, the gates of the city appear before them. Jiron brings them to a halt when they discover the gates are closed and are guarded by over a score of men. “Should we try another one?” he asks.
Shaking his head, James says, “Another won’t be any better. I’m sure they have them all covered.” Moving forward, James says, “The rest of you wait here.” The shimmering of his shield suddenly surrounds him and his horse as he approaches the men guarding the gate.
On the way, he opens his palm and creates another of his spheres. Then, he stops there in the middle of the road for a moment and stares at the sphere in his hand. Realizing that such blatant misuse of power is becoming all too easy for him, he closes his hand. There has to be another way. Death and more death, is that all there is?
Then as hard as he can, throws it far from him. “Cancel!” he says with finality and the sphere winks out. Then he glances to the men arrayed before him and resumes his advance.
Before he comes close, the officer in charge of the gate calls out what sounds like a command. Paying it no heed, James continues onward. As he draws closer, bolts begin to pepper the outside of his shield from the squad of a half dozen crossbowmen positioned to the rear of the soldiers.
James continues to press forward until he comes to within a dozen yards of the leading edge of soldiers. By this time, the order had been given for the crossbowmen to cease their hail of bolts seeing as how they were unable to penetrate the shield.
“Does anyone understand me?” James asks.
A soldier bearing an insignia which must mark him as the leader of these men replies, “I can.”
“I want you to open the gates and allow us to pass through unmolested,” he tells him.
“I cannot allow you to leave,” the officer replies.
James can see the expression of fear in the man’s eyes. The officer had to have seen the earlier explosions and understands what might be the consequences of barring his way. “I’m trying to save the lives of you and your men,” he says. “I’m heartily sick of causing the death of others.”
“If I should step aside and allow you to leave,” the officer states, “our lives would be forfeit in any event.”
James sighs and shakes his head sadly. “So be it then,” he says. Turning around, he returns back to where the others are waiting. Once he returns, he moves next to Brother Willim and whispers something in his ear. When he’s done speaking, he looks for Brother Willim’s response.
Nodding, Brother Willim says, “It can be done.”
“Then please do so,” he replies.
The green glow that always accompanies the priest whenever he calls forth his god’s power now springs to life around him. Raising his hands, he calls for aid.
It takes but a moment before a commotion develops near the gate. The lines of soldiers that had stood so uniformly are now deteriorating into chaos as ants boil out of the ground. Not the red fire ants as before, but still annoying and painful as they crawl inside the men’s armor and begin biting.
“Thank you Brother Willim,” says James. To the rest he says, “Give me a minute before following.” Moving forward to the gates again, he gets his horse up to a fast trot. At the edge of the carpet of ants, he sees the ants move aside as if allowing him to pass. Glancing back, he sees the glow still surrounding Brother Willim as he works to control the swarm of ants.
Still encased in his barrier, he nudges his horse forward. With every step his horse takes, the ants move aside and away. Not having to worry about the ants climbing his horse’s legs, he winds his way through the men writhing on the ground, some almost completely coated in ants, on his way to the gate.
He passes by the officer with whom he spoke to earlier. Lying on the ground, the man’s hands work to try and remove the ants. But for every ten he brushes off, a hundred take their place. For a moment their eyes lock. “I told you I don’t like to kill,” he tells him.
Continuing his forward motion, he reaches the gate. He comes close enough so that he can place his hand upon its surface. Summoning the magic, he sends it out in one massive surge that blasts the gates open.
The thunder of hooves comes to him as the others race for the gates. He moves back to the officer and says, “I could have killed you and your men, but didn’t. Remember that.” The officer looks to him but doesn’t make any sort of response.
“Come on man,” Jiron says to him as he reaches the swarm. Using the same path as had James, he and the others race through and leave the city.
James kicks his horse into motion and follows after. Outside the gates, they take the southeast road, the one that leads to the city of Cyst. The city where Azku said the man could be found from whom he bought Cassie’s necklace.
Pushing their horses into a gallop, they don’t make it far from the city before they see a dozen riders exiting through the broken gates in pursuit. “Hey!” exclaims Scar. “Two of them are Stig and Shorty!” Coming to a quick stop, they turn to find that Stig and Shorty are not part of the other force of riders, rather they are being chased by them.
James turns back toward the oncoming riders. When Jiron and the others move to join him, he says, “I’ll take care of this,” as a dazzling shield springs into being around him. Brighter by far than any other he’s ever created, it almost rivals the sun in brilliance as sparks pop and crackles across its surface.
Crumph! Crumph!
Two explosions on either side of the road throw dirt and sand upon the riders. Coming to a quick halt, the riders seem as if they are contemplating the wisdom of continuing. To help make up their minds, James suddenly kicks his horse in the flanks and races forward.
Stig and Shorty fly past as he moves toward the riders. The expressions on many of their faces are ones of fear. To go after fleeing riders is one thing, but to go head to head with a mage of such power is quite another. Their minds finally made up, they turn tail and race back to Morac.
James cancels his spectacular shield once they are fully on their way and then turns his horse back to return to the others.
“Yeah,” Shorty says as he talks to Jiron, “after those soldiers chased you out of the inn’s courtyard, we took two of the horses and exited the other way. We figured the rest of you could handle things well enough without us so worked our way toward one of the gates.”
“That’s right,” adds Stig. “Then when we heard the explosion that must have taken out the gate, we raced toward where you were and arrived just after you left. That’s when those riders back there showed up and gave chase.”
“Glad to have you back,” James tells them. “It might be wise to put as much distance between us and here as fast as we can. I expect pursuit to materialize pretty soon.”
“Then let’s not sit here and talk,” says Jiron. “Cyst awaits.” Turning to follow the road once more to the southeast, he quickly gets his horse up to a fast gallop with the others right behind.
Once Morac has disappeared in the distance behind them, Jiron angles them off the road in an almost due easterly direction. Moving deeper into the desert and away from the road, he doesn’t turn them to the south until the road and the travelers upon it are no longer in sight. Then he turns to run parallel to the road on its way southeast to Cyst.
Throughout the day, James begins sinking into depression. By the time darkness falls and they’ve moved even further into the desert to make camp, he’s withdrawn into himself and only makes one word answers when spoken to.
The others allow him time to himself, those who have ridden with him for some time now know that this is something that comes over him once in a while. Brother Willim however is unable to let him wallow in whatever misery has him in its grip. Once their meal is ready, he takes two bowls of stew and goes over to where James is sitting.
Holding out the bowl, Brother Willim says, “Here.”
James takes it and gives him a short, “Thank you.”
“Mind if I sit down?” he asks.
James shrugs and says, “No.”
Taking a seat on the ground facing him, Brother Willim dips his spoon into the so-called stew and begins eating. He watches James for a moment before saying, “I can tell there’s something gnawing away at you.” James glances up to meet his gaze but makes no comment. “It might ease your mind if you tell me about it.”
Locking eyes with the priest, James says, “Confession good for the soul?”
Brother Willim gives him a brief grin. “Never heard it put that way before, but yes. There are times when keeping your troubles bottled inside can do more harm than good. A tree cannot grow tall if there’s a disease eating it away from the inside.”
James takes another bite and sighs. “The weight of the dead is heavy,” he begins. Glancing again at Brother Willim, he sees the concern and worry for him in his eyes. “Before I came here, I had never been near the dead and dying. Oh sure, I watched the news but had never connected to it emotionally. They say that my people are growing numb to that sort of thing. Heck, we’re inundated with it all the time from every direction. Newspapers, TV, radio, everyday you hear about how this person was found dead, or that person killed for political or religious reasons. But it never really hits you.”
“But now, I personally have been responsible for hundreds, if not thousands of deaths,” he states.
Brother Willim can see the pain behind his eyes. “I understand the weight you carry,” he says understandingly. “Events, unfortunately, have not given you any other options.”
In a voice that’s barely above a whisper, he says, “But that’s not the worst of it.” He glances up to the priest, holds out his hand and creates one of his spheres. “You’ve seen me use this?” he asks.
Brother Willim nods gravely. “Yes,” he replies.
He rolls it around in his hand as he explains. “This is the most evil thing I have ever done,” he admits.
“Evil?” says Brother Willim. “I wouldn’t so name yourself, or your deeds.”
“You don’t understand.” Holding the sphere between his forefinger and thumb he brings it up in front of the brother’s face. “With this, I suck the life from people and use it to kill. First it leeches power from everything nearby, then I am able to utilize that power in various ways. Barriers, fire, explosions, you name it and I can do it.”
Nodding his head, Brother Willim remains silent as James continues.
“Isn’t that wrong?” he asks as his eyes turn to gaze at the sphere between his fingers. “To steal the life that the gods have given them?” He then goes quiet as the sphere disappears and he looks to Brother Willim for a response.
“Our lord Asran teaches us that to take the life of any living thing is wrong,” he says. “Whether it be birds, fish, insects…” and then he pauses a moment before adding, “or man. But we do need to survive, and so we kill animals to feed ourselves, clothe ourselves and so forth.”
“But men are not animals,” he insists.
“No, that is true,” he admits. “But let me ask you this. If a man was intent on taking your life, would you have any compunction whatsoever about removing one of your slugs from your belt and killing him with it? If that was the only way in which to preserve your life?”
“Yes, though I wouldn’t want to,” he replies.
“And later, would you agonize over it like you are doing now?” he asks.
“Not so much, no,” he admits.
“Whether you take the life of someone with a sword, knife, or even a slug, is no better or worse than what you are doing with your sphere,” he says.
“Then why do I feel this way?” he asks.
“You feel this way because you are a good man,” he explains. “Each person has within them the knowledge of right and wrong. Some say it is learned from those around them as they grow up, others believe that it comes from the gods.”
James nods. “I understand what you’re talking about,” he says. “My people call it a moral compass.”
“You are feeling this way because you are going against yours. You feel this is wrong, so your ‘moral compass’ is working to keep you from continuing down this path.” He pauses a moment to see what affect his words are having. When James makes no comment he adds, “Are you finding it easier to do the things you feel are wrong?”
“When I first discovered that the power within everyone could be taken and used, I was appalled and told myself that I would never do it,” he explains. “Or rather not to do it unless absolutely necessary. Now though, I seem to be doing it on a regular basis.” He turns pained eyes toward Brother Willim and says, “Now it’s almost as if it’s becoming a habit. I no longer even try to come up with another way.”
“The easiest path is often the most dangerous,” Brother Willim states. “The more you do what you know is wrong, the easier it will become the next time. And the next time.”
“What can I do?” James asks.
“The solution to your problem is simple,” he says. “Stop doing what you know is wrong.”
“But, that could cost us our lives if I don’t,” he replies.
Brother Willim gives him a look of sadness. “As long you can come up with reasons why you must do things against your ‘moral compass’, you will. We humans can reason anything to sound like a good idea. If taking the life of people in this manner is abhorrent to you, then don’t. Or resign yourself to continuing as you have.”
“What will happen to me if I continue?” he asks.
“I think you know,” he says.
They sit there in silence for awhile while each finishes their meal. James thinks about what Brother Willim had said and knows the truth of it. After they’ve finished their meal, he says to him, “Thank you.”
Brother Willim gives him a smile and says, “That’s my job. I am a priest you know. Just think on what we talked about, follow your conscience, and you’ll feel better.”
“I will,” says James.
The rest of the night goes well for him as he rejoins the others. By the time he lays down on his blanket, he feel much better and has promised himself not to sink further toward the ‘dark side’.