As the eastern sky begins to dawn, they have a quick bite to eat before saddling the horses. “Should make Trendle sometime tomorrow,” Illan tells the rest of them.
He takes the lead as they move toward the pass entrance. Appearing out of the pass entrance before them are about twenty horsemen. One of the riders brings a horn to his lips and blares forth three quick notes. Answering horns can be heard sounding from all around them. Illan brings them to a stop.
“James,” Miko says as he brings his horse closer to his, “what’s happening?”
From all sides, horsemen appear. Jiron’s knife leaps into his good hand as he takes in the hundreds of approaching horsemen who’re moving to surround them.
Suddenly, a familiar tingling sensation begins to make itself known to James. He looks to the pass and sees four horsemen detach themselves from the others. They begin moving down to where James and the others wait. One of them is dressed in armor and a shudder goes through him when he recognizes him.
“Abula-Mazki!” he breathes.
“What?” Jiron asks.
Pointing to the riders coming from the pass, James says, “Abula-Mazki. It seems he didn’t die when the catacombs collapsed.”
“Who is he?” asks Jorry.
“A warrior priest of Dmon-Li,” he replies. “I thought we’d rid ourselves of him some time ago.”
The surrounding riders move to within a hundred yards before coming to a stop. James recognizes the Wolf Clan, as well as patterns of two other clans from the Gathering.
“How did they know to be here?” Miko asks.
“I don’t know,” replies James as he keeps his eye on the approaching warrior priest. The others with him look to be the chiefs of the clans, James recognizes them from when he’d been questioned before the council.
“It looks as if they wish to parley,” Illan says as he glances to James.
“Should we?” Jiron asks him. “I don’t trust him to be honorable.”
“No, I don’t either,” agrees James. “But if it holds off an immediate attack, perhaps I should go and see what he has to say.” Turning to Miko, he says, “You stay here.”
“Okay, James,” replies Miko.
As he moves out to meet with Abula-Mazki, Illan and Jiron join him. He can see that the warrior priest did not come away unscathed from his ordeal in the catacombs. His face is horribly marred and his armor looks to have been crushed and then reshaped. Strong indeed must the magic of Dmon-Li be to allow him to survive such punishment.
Both parties come to a stop once they’re ten feet away from each other. The Chief of the Grey Wolf clan looks with undisguised hatred at James.
“Abula-Mazki,” begins James. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
“I’ll make this simple,” the warrior priest says. “I want the one carrying the Star, the rest can go free. Resist, and you’ll all die!”
Pulling out the Star, he shows it to him and asks, “Why is this so troubling to you?”
Abula-Mazki’s eyes lock on the Star as he replies, “Priest of Morcyth, I’d strike you down now if I didn’t need you alive!”
James contemplates the situation quickly and comes to the conclusion that there’s no way their party will be able to withstand the combined might of the clan riders and the magic of Abula-Mazki. Either one by themselves, maybe, but not together.
Then an idea begins to form in his mind, one he doesn’t care too much for, but there may not be another way, “I have a proposition for you.”
“What is it?” Abula-Mazki asks.
“I propose we each chose a champion to decide the outcome,” explains James. “If yours wins, I go with you willingly. If mine wins, you allow us to continue, unhindered.”
A smile spreads across his face as Abula-Mazki listens to him. “Swear upon the Star, Priest of Morcyth, and I’ll agree to your proposal.”
Holding the Star high, James says, “I swear to go with the warrior priest Abula-Mazki should his champion win.”
“Very well, priest,” he says. “I agree.”
“Give us a few minutes to prepare, and our champion will return here to this spot,” James says.
“You have ten minutes, no more,” he warns him.
Nodding, James replies, “That is agreeable.”
Both parties turn around and return to the others waiting for them.
When James, Illan and Jiron arrive, Uther says, “I know how they knew to be here.”
Every eye turns to him as James asks, “How?”
Gesturing to the group of riders in the pass, he says, “If you look, you’ll see the man who was outside our door just before we left.”
They all turn and sure enough, the man who they’d chased out from in front of their door back at the inn in Seastar is among them. “Damn!” Illan exclaims. “I thought he was working for Councilman Rillian.”
“So did we all,” Jiron adds.
“Maybe he was,” Yern suggests. “What he’d heard could’ve been relayed from Councilman Rillian to them.”
“True,” agrees Illan. “They must’ve almost killed their horses to get here so fast.”
“So what happened?” Fifer asks.
James fills them in on what was said and the deal he’d made. At hearing that, Jiron says, “James, there’s no way I can win a fight with my shoulder the way it is.”
“Besides,” Illan says, “there’s only one person he’s going to select as champion, and that will be himself. The warrior priests are terrible foes, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of one being beaten by another living mortal. Who among us could even hope of defeating a warrior priest of Dmon-Li?”
He glances around at the faces looking to him until he settles on one, “Another warrior priest of Dmon-Li.”
Staring back into James’ eyes, Miko takes a sudden intake of breath. “What? Are you crazy?” He glances around at the others assembled there and says, “I’m no warrior, let alone a match for someone like Abula-Mazki.”
Illan glances from Miko, to James, then back to Miko. His head begins to nod slowly as he says, “Perhaps.”
Miko turns his attention to Illan as he says, “You can’t be serious!”
“I’ve seen you fight,” he tells him. He gestures at the rest of those gathered there before continuing, “None of us can even hope to match what you do. You’re the only choice.”
“James,” Jiron says to him. “We can’t take that chance, not with…”
“I know,” he replies. “But that’s just what I’m counting on. With it, Miko has a chance to beat him.”
The others look confused, not understanding what they’re talking about. James turns to Hinney and says, “Give your armor to Miko. I think you’re about the same size.” As he begins removing his armor, James comes over to Miko and says, “You can do this. There really is no one else.”
Miko’s eyes show the fear and doubt that he’s feeling inside. James leans closer and whispers so only he will hear, “The Fire will aid you. It already has in every battle you’ve fought.”
Coming back to look him in the eye, he says, “I believe you can do it.”
“But, what if I lose myself for good?” he asks. “It’s been harder each time to come back out of it.”
“I won’t let that happen,” James assures him. “I promise.”
Jorry and Uther come over and begin to help him in putting on Hinney’s armor. “Let me have your sword,” James says.
“What’re you going to do?” Miko asks as he hands it over to him. A pile begins to form at his feet from all the excess equipment they are removing from him in order to make room for the armor. The only pouch he retains is the one containing the Fire.
“Make it stronger, better able to withstand whatever he may do,” he replies. He holds the sword out before him and begins concentrating as he readies the magic. Hoping he remembers enough from the shows on television he’d seen about metallurgy and sword making, he lets the magic begin to flow as he works on removing the impurities and strengthening the iron into steel.
He stands there for five minutes as he works on the sword. When he at last feels it’s complete, he stops the spell and hands the sword to Illan. “Tell me what you think.”
Taking the sword, he tests it for balance and weight, all the while nodding his head approvingly. Then he checks the edge by running his thumb along it. The barest of pressure cuts through the skin and a drop of blood begins to form.
He holds the sword out and then turns to Fifer, “Take out your sword and strike it.”
Fifer removes his sword and while Illan holds the sword in a blocking position, strikes it hard. When his sword strikes Miko’s, it rings out and Illan says, “Again!”
Strike! Strike! Strike!
Three more times Fifer hits Miko’s sword, after the third strike, Illan nods his head and gestures for Fifer to halt. Turning to where Miko stands, now dressed in armor, he says, “This sword is better than any other I’ve ever seen.” Handing it to him hilt first, he continues, “It will serve you well.”
“Thank you,” he says, taking it. Placing it within the scabbard, he glances to James. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he says. Then a horn sounds from those within the pass and they turn to see Abula-Mazki returning on foot with the clan chiefs. “It’s time,” he tells Miko.
James, Illan and Jiron accompany Miko out to where the duel will take place. With dread, Miko advances toward the spot where he will meet Abula-Mazki in combat. I can’t do this!
When the two groups meet, Abula-Mazki says, “So, who plans to die today?”
“None of us, actually,” James says. He gestures to Miko as he continues, “Miko here will meet your champion.” Looking around at those with Abula-Mazki, he adds, “And which one of you will be brave enough to meet him?”
The clan chiefs break out into a gruff laugh as Abula-Mazki says, “I had thought this to be a serious match.”
“It is,” James assures him. “He is far better than you’d imagine.”
Looking upon Miko, Abula-Mazki’s expression shows he seriously doubts his abilities. “Okay,” he says, “so be it. I will be my own champion for there is no other better than I.”
“Just one thing before we begin,” James says.
“What?” he asks.
“Should we win,” he replies and then points to the clan chiefs, “I want your word they will not attack us. Nor will they try to seek any sort of vengeance against us.”
With an amused smile upon his face at the very thought, Abula-Mazki says, “You have it.”
“Very well then,” says James.
The clan chiefs back away from Abula-Mazki as he draws his sword.
James can feel the prickling as he calls the magic. He puts his hands on Miko’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. Miko looks back with naked fear at the thought of facing him in battle. “You can do this!” asserts James. Then in a hushed whisper, adds, “The Fire will protect you.”
“How can you be sure?” Miko asks.
“I am,” James replies. “Trust me.” He continues gazing at Miko until he gives him a barely perceptible nod.
Miko turns to face the warrior priest. Drawing his sword, he steps forward as James and the others step back.
He watches as Miko closes with Abula-Mazki and begins to notice how his movements are slowly changing, becoming more streamlined and relaxed. The Fire is beginning to take control.
With sword at the ready, Miko waits for Abula-Mazki’s attack. When it comes, it’s so incredibly fast that no one even realized he’d even attacked before Miko’s sword moves and blocks it.
The ringing of the clash of swords slowly dies away, and the clan chiefs begin murmuring among themselves. They cast looks from Abula-Mazki and then over to where James waits with the others.
As he watches Miko and Abula-Mazki begin to circle each other, Illan says, “He might be able to win.”
“Let’s hope so,” James says.
“If he does,” says Jiron as he points to the clan chiefs, “do you think they’ll abide by Abula-Mazki’s word?”
“I doubt it,” replies James. “But let’s worry about that after Miko wins.” He looks to Jiron who gives him a nod.
Clang! Clang!
Their swords move at speeds so fast, the eyes of the onlookers aren’t capable of following. Then suddenly, Abula-Mazki disengages and backs up. He looks at Miko with a new found respect. This isn’t any ordinary foe, he realizes.
Suddenly, the tingling James has been feeling since the beginning of the match spikes. He tries to call the magic forth to help Miko but is too late. A ball of fire flies the short distance from Abula-Mazki to Miko, and explodes in a giant fireball.
When the smoke clears, Miko is still standing there, untouched. James can faintly see a reddish shell begin to dissipate from around him. He glances to the warrior priest and sees the look of utter amazement upon his face. Smiling in satisfaction, James hollers, “Go Miko!”
Miko doesn’t acknowledge his support, instead, he strides forth and begins attacking. With incredible speed, he launches into a series of attacks that Abula-Mazki successfully blocks. But instead of pausing, he keeps on attacking and actually succeeds in making him back up two steps before ending the series of blows.
Enraged at the temerity of this boy, Abula-Mazki lashes out with his magic again and watches as the bolts of energy are deflected by the red tinged barrier. Using an attack combining both magic and sword he goes on the offensive. The magic is countered while Miko’s sword blocks the attacks.
At this time, Fifer and the others have come and joined James’ group. “Incredible,” he says to James as he stands next to him.
“Glad I’m not in there,” admits Yern.
A jubilant cry from Abula-Mazki and they watch as Miko’s sword goes sailing through the air and lands point first into the dirt ten feet away.
“Miko!” cries James.
Then suddenly, the sword is no longer in the ground, but once again in Miko’s hand as he goes on the offensive again. A series of blows has Abula-Mazki giving ground and in disbelief, everyone watches as Miko’s sword rips through his armored leggings and slices the thigh beneath.
Miko has drawn first blood!
Abula-Mazki takes a few steps back to gather himself, a strange expression now upon his face. He glances down at the blood beginning to drip from the cut on his thigh. It’s not deep and will hardly even slow him down. But to score on a warrior priest, inconceivable! Never has such happened to Abula-Mazki.
He looks at his opponent and sees the glazed look in his eyes, eyes that look as if they see nothing, yet do. His senses tell him that there’s nothing magical about this boy, but yet he has managed to counter everything he’s thrown at him. For the first time in Abula-Mazki’s very long life, he begins to believe he may have met his match.
During the brief pause in the fighting, James takes a look around at the riders who’ve surrounded them. Relieved to find them still in their original position, he turns his attention to the clan chiefs. The expressions on their faces show the fight is not going as they had anticipated. They had thought it would be quick and decisive, now they have doubts as to whether Abula-Mazki will even win. He sees them huddled together talking while at the same time keeping their attention fixed on the fighting.
“I think they’re planning something,” James says to the others.
“Would they go against the agreement made?” asks Hinney.
“Wouldn’t put it past them,” he says. “From the little I’ve been around them, I haven’t known them to be all that honorable.”
“What should we do?” asks Uther.
“If Miko falls, I’ll go with them and hope Abula-Mazki will hold to his word,” he explains. “Should Miko prevail, we better be prepared to fight.”
“I believe you are correct,” agrees Illan.
The clash of swords brings their attention back to the fighting. Abula-Mazki has launched another series of blows which Miko is blocking successfully. A line opens up on Miko’s forearm where Abula-Mazki’s sword scored. Not very deep, but they can see a small amount of blood beginning to run down his arm. Miko doesn’t even act as if he knows he has been struck.
That small victory gives Abula-Mazki an impetus to win the fight. Launching into a series of blinding attacks, he actually manages to push Miko back several steps.
But Miko doesn’t move back very far before he begins to go on the offensive once again. In disbelief, Abula-Mazki is beginning to almost not be able to block the blows raining down upon him. How can he move so fast? Blow after blow he successfully blocks, but each time he has been almost a fraction of a second too late.
Not stopping, the blows keep coming, and as unbelievable as it sounds, they’re increasing in speed. He gasps when he sees twin fires in Miko’s eyes, flames of unholy light. Light that is familiar somehow.
Then suddenly, he recognizes the truth. The Fire! It’s no longer hidden and is in the hands of this infidel. Once he realizes that, he understands that he cannot win this battle. But there is one more act he must perform for his god before the end comes.
He disengages from the battle and sees Miko’s sword slow down as he moves backward. Readying himself, he watches as Miko approaches, sword ready to resume the battle.
From the sidelines, James watches as Abula-Mazki takes a few quick steps backward and comes to a stop. The prickling suddenly begins to intensify and he knows the warrior priest is about to cast a spell of mammoth proportions. He readies the magic to counter whatever he may try to do.
Suddenly, a psychic cry of tremendous power rips through his head like a knife. The Fire walks with the Star!
Everyone around him suddenly cries out from the pain of it as they each grip their head in an attempt to ease the pain.
Through eyes blinded with tears of pain, James looks to the combatants and watches as Miko strikes out at Abula-Mazki who, caught up in the spell, fails to defend himself. His sword strikes him through the chest and the psychic cry is abruptly silenced.
Miko pulls out the sword and hacks his sword arm off before following through with a slice that severs his head from his neck.
When the psychic cry stops, so does the pain it caused. James looks up in time to see Abula-Mazki’s head strike the ground. He hears a cheer from Hinney and Keril as they begin running over to congratulate Miko. “Stop!” he orders commandingly.
They both stop and turn to look at him. “Don’t go near him yet,” he tells them. Moving past them, he brings himself near to where Miko is standing motionless. He walks around until he’s standing face to face with him.
“Miko?” he asks as he gazes into his eyes. He can see more changes the Fire had wrought. All signs of Miko’s childhood are gone. What stands before him is a man in his early twenties at least. “Miko?” he asks again, in a soothing voice. “It’s James.”
James can see the fires burning in his eyes, and for the first time, he’s worried his friend may not come out of it. “Miko, come back to me,” he says as he reaches his hand out.
Then his eyes take notice of him there and his sword moves to a guard position. James backs up a step and holds his hands up, showing he’s not armed. The fires burn as the eyes come to rest upon him.
Pointing to a sack lying in the pile that had been removed from Miko, James yells to Jiron, “Toss me the sack!”
Not sure at first what he is talking about, Jiron looks down and then understanding comes. Picking it up, he throws it to James who catches it.
“Would you like some tarts?” James asks as he pulls one from the sack, holding it up for Miko to see.
Miko’s expression changes subtly and the fires begin to diminish. “Tarts?” he says in a far away voice.
“Yeah,” James says, lowering his arm. “Here, have one.” He watches some sort of internal struggle taking place within Miko. Suddenly, the fires in his eyes go out and he knows that it’s his friend who’s now looking out at him.
“Oh, James,” he says and takes a step forward before collapsing to the ground.
He moves quickly to catch him before he hits the ground. Laying him down, he waves the others to come join him.
Upon reaching them, Illan says, “James, we got problems.”
Looking up at him from where he kneels next to Miko, James asks, “What?”
Pointing to the pass, he says, “Look.”
Turning his attention to the pass, James sees the clan chiefs have returned and mounted their horses. One of the riders with them brings a horn to his lips and two loud notes sound. Answering horns come from all sides as the riders who had waited patiently at a distance during the fight now begin moving toward them in a decidedly hostile manner. Hundreds of riders are quickly closing the gap, swords are being drawn and bows readied.
James grabs Jiron’s arm, causing him to look at him. “You know what I must do?”
Jiron nods his head and gathers the others around while James prepares to defend them. “Form a circle around James, let nothing get close to him that may disrupt his concentration,” he tells them. Once he sees that they understand, he continues, “We may yet live through this.”
“Arrows!” hollers Fifer as over fifty archers release their deadly arsenal.
“Shields!” Illan hollers and those with shields raise them to protect James. The others hide behind them as best they can. They watch as the arrows arc in the air as they begin to descend toward them. Then suddenly, they bounce off a barrier that surrounds them.
“What happened?” asks Keril.
“James,” replies Jiron. “That’s what happened.”
They still remain behind their shields as the deadly rain continues to fall, harmlessly bouncing off the invisible shield.
The sky begins to darken as clouds move rapidly from all directions to merge together in the sky above. Those guarding James look nervously out at the rapidly changing sky, Illan calls out to them, “Stand fast!”
The front line of riders comes crashing into the barrier that had so successfully stopped the rain of arrows. Horses and men cry out as they strike it hard, bones of some can be heard snapping. One man is actually thrown upward from his horse and lands on the barrier itself. The defenders inside watch as he slowly slides down the outer side to the ground.
Hinney cries out when a dozen translucent orbs suddenly appear among them.
“Don’t worry,” Jiron assures him. “James has lots of tricks.”
The orbs begin floating away from them in various directions. When they reach the barrier, they pass harmlessly through. The riders beating upon the barrier step back as the orbs float harmlessly past them before resuming their attempt to breach the barrier.
“What are those?” Yern asks.
“Something nasty for them,” replies Jiron. “You can be sure of that.”
The riders have stopped the hail of arrows when they realize how ineffective they are. The wounded from when the charge hit the barrier are being taken away and the mood among the riders is beginning to become one of unease.
In the sky above them, the cloud cover is now dark and the wind has begun to blow in earnest. Suddenly, a flash of lightning strikes one of the translucent orbs, blasting over a dozen riders that happen to be near.
ZZZT! Wham!
Another bolt of lightning strikes an orb, and more riders are thrown from the force of the explosion.
“That was bigger than the last one!” Uther exclaims.
“Look!” Jorry says as he points to one of the orbs. “They’re getting bigger!”
Jiron glances to James and sees he’s beginning to pant and sweat is pouring down his face. Shouting loud enough for all the defenders to hear him, he hollers, “Should James lose consciousness, the barrier will fall. Then it will be up to us to finish this.”
“Bring it on!” Jorry hollers from where he stands shoulder to shoulder with Uther.
ZZZT! Wham! ZZZT! Wham! ZZZT! Wham!
Bolts begin striking orbs with more frequency and more riders are thrown only to fall lifeless to the ground.
Once the last orb has been struck, it becomes eerily quiet. The riders outside the barrier pause in what they’re doing as they take notice of the quiet.
“Illan!” Fifer yells as he points to James.
James is tilting to the side and looks like he’s barely able to remain upright. “Help him!” Illan commands and Fifer goes over and helps support him so he won’t fall over. To the others, Illan says, “It won’t be long! Be ready!”
From the clouds above, a swirling mass begins descending toward the riders outside the barrier. “What in god’s name is that?” Uther cries out.
“A tornado!” Jiron replies, remembering the ones James used in their escape from Al-Kur.
The swirling mass of clouds smashes into the ground not far from them, riders and horses caught within it are thrown and broken. It starts moving toward the pass and the chiefs waiting there.
A cry escapes James as the tornado splits in two, the second half moving quickly in the opposite direction toward a large congregation of riders.
The chiefs see the tornado coming toward them and turn as they begin riding fast further up into the pass, trying to outrun the approaching swirling mass of death.
“How is he?” Jiron shouts to Fifer.
“Not good!” he tells him. “His heart’s beating fast and he’s having trouble breathing.”
Jiron comes over and kneels down next to him and says, “James! You’ve done enough!” When it doesn’t look like he’s getting through to him, he shakes him and hollers, “James! You can stop!”
Eyes suddenly pop open and a great cry of pain escapes him. Then he suddenly collapses into unconsciousness.
The barrier collapses and the tornadoes begin to dissipate. “Alright boys!” Illan hollers. “Stay together and protect James and Miko.”
When the wind dies down and the tornadoes are gone, they take in the destruction James has wrought. Hundreds of men and horses lie dead or dying all around them. On the outskirts of the devastation, over twenty horsemen can be seen still on their horses. They’re all that remain of the host which accompanied Abula-Mazki.
A horn from the pass announces the return of the chiefs and their men. They pause there momentarily as the horn blasts again. “Here they come!” Illan says to the others as both the riders in the pass and the ones on the outskirts break into a gallop as they move in to attack.
Two archers remain and they begin firing off arrows but none strike their marks. One manages to hit the ground within a foot of Miko, the other was deflected off Uther’s shield.
“Strike the horses if you can’t get the men!” Illan tells them as they brace for the attack. “Remain together!”
Jiron positions himself over James and Miko while the others form a circle around them. Knife at the ready in his good hand, he stands firm as he watches the riders thunder closer.
The area around where the barrier had been is littered with the dead and provides them some cover. Also, the charging riders have to slow when they reach it to prevent their horses from stumbling.
Illan and the others move to attack while the riders are trying to move through the dead bodies. “For Madoc!” the battle cry can be heard as Uther’s sword takes out the first rider.
Other cries are heard as the battle is joined. Hinney and Keril stand shoulder to shoulder as they manage to hold their own against three riders.
One horseless rider manages to break through the ring of defenders and runs toward where Jiron is waiting. A smile crosses the rider’s face when he sees a man with only one good arm and just wielding a dagger at that.
Striking out at Jiron with his sword, the man so sure of victory, is surprised when Jiron easily deflects it to the side. Suddenly crying out in pain, the man falls to the ground after Jiron breaks his knee with a well placed kick. Trying to block Jiron’s next attack, he swings his sword wildly.
Jiron strikes out with his foot again and connects with the man’s groin. Then with his other foot he kicks the man’s swordarm, causing the sword to go flying. He then moves in with his knife and finishes him.
Standing up, he looks around at the battles going on around him. The defenders are taking a toll, especially Jorry and Uther who have a ring of bodies around them. Fifer has two dead while Illan and Yern have accounted for seven.
Keril suddenly cries out as a sword takes him in the side. Hinney quickly engages the rider as his friend falls to the ground. Other riders come and join the one fighting Hinney, Jiron knows he’s not going to last long.
Suddenly, to the south, more horns can be heard. Jiron looks and sees dozens of riders riding fast toward them. Damn! More reinforcements!
The horns sound again and an answering horn can be heard coming from the pass. The riders engaging the defenders suddenly break off and race to their awaiting horses. Leaping atop them, they join the riders coming fast from the pass.
Jiron can see the clan chiefs giving them an ugly look that says this isn’t over before they race off to the west. The large group of riders coming from the south breaks into two groups, the larger of the two turn to follow the clan chiefs. The smaller group approaches the scene of the battle.
“They’re ours,” says Illan when he can make them out. “Everyone alive?” he asks as he quickly takes stock of the situation. Coming over to where Hinney sits with Keril, he realizes Keril isn’t going to survive much longer. He kneels down as Keril turns his pain filled eyes to him.
“Did we win?” Keril asks.
“Yes, son,” Illan says to him soothingly, “we did. You fought bravely which saved the day.”
A smile spreads across his face.
When Hinney looks up at him, hope in his eyes, he shakes his head.
Illan gets back up, pats Hinney on the shoulder and goes over to see how James and Miko are doing, leaving him alone to share Keril’s last moments in peace.
Jiron sees him approaching and says, “They’re alive. Not sure if they will make it, though. James isn’t doing too well and Miko, well, I can’t even begin to guess about him. He doesn’t respond, though he only has minor cuts and bruises.”
“Keep an eye on them,” he says as he moves to greet the approaching riders, Jorry and Uther join him. He notices Uther has a blood soaked cloth tied around his arm and arcs an eyebrow in question.
“It’s not bad,” Uther tells him. “Just a minor cut.”
Nodding, Illan turns back to the riders. Once they’ve come close, he holds up his hand and says, “Thank you.”
The officer in charge says to his men, “Fan out and see if there’re any left alive.” As they move to comply, he gets down from his horse and greets Illan. “What the hell happened here?” The insignia on his uniform says he’s a Madoc cavalry captain.
“We were set upon as we were about to enter the pass,” Illan explains.
The officer gazes around at the hundreds of dead scattered about and the holes where the explosions had occurred. Then he turns his attention to Illan and his group. “You all there are?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes,” he replies.
“How did you manage to kill all these and only lose three?” he asks.
“Actually, we only lost one,” he tells him. Indicating James and Miko, he adds, “The other two are just unconscious.”
“I see,” the officer says. He holds out his hand and says, “Name’s Captain Herril.”
Taking the hand, Illan says, “Illan.”
“Now, how did you do it?” he asks.
“Can’t really explain it,” he says. Changing the subject, he asks, “How did you come to be here?”
“Yesterday, the Empire’s forces launched a major offensive against our line,” he says. “This group here was seen to pass by while we were engaged with the others. Once reinforcements arrived and the line stabilized again, I was sent to track them down.”
“Fortunate,” Illan comments.
“Yes, it seems so,” Captain Herril says. “You wouldn’t know anything about why they’re here would you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” Illan says, straight faced.
“Uh-huh,” he says, not sounding convinced.
One of his men rides up and salutes, “A couple are still alive.”
“Take them for questioning,” he tells the man.
Saluting, the rider returns and with others, begins rounding up the survivors.
“Where do you plan to go from here?” the captain asks.
“Through the pass into Cardri,” Illan says.
“And then?” he asks again.
“Who knows for sure?” replies Illan.
Illan notices that someone, probably Jiron, had covered up Abula-Mazki’s body to avoid any questions there. “We should be going,” he tells the captain. To Uther he says, “Go round up our horses, we’ll bury Keril first and then head into the pass.”
Jorry and Uther move away as they begin to round up their horses that had been scattered during the battle.
“I’d still like to know how you did this,” the captain demands, not going to be balked further in this.
Illan turns to where Jiron is sitting by James and hollers, “Get the letter.”
Nodding, Jiron searches through James’ pouch, finally pulling out the letter. Getting up, he brings it over and hands it to Illan who then hands it to the captain.
The captain opens it and begins reading the words written upon it. His eyes widen when he realizes whose signature is at the bottom. Finished, he returns the letter to Illan. “Okay then,” he says. “I’ll not press you further.”
“Lieutenant!” he shouts to one of his men.
A rider comes over and says, “Yes sir.”
“Get the men and the prisoners ready to ride,” he tells him.
Saluting, the lieutenant says, “Yes sir.” Then he turns back to the rest of the men and begins shouting orders.
Once his men are ready to ride, the captain mounts and says, “Good luck to you.”
“You too, captain,” Illan says.
Turning his horse south, the captain rides out with his men falling in behind. A string of horses in the middle of his men hold ten wounded clan riders.
As they ride away, Illan moves to where Hinney is still cradling Keril’s head in his lap. Even before he reaches them, he knows Keril is dead. “We have one more service to perform for Keril,” he says to him gently.
Looking up with tears running down his face, Hinney says, “He was a good friend.”
“Yes he was,” agrees Illan. “But it’s time we let him go.”
Nodding, Hinney comes to his feet and then picks up his friend. Over to the side, Jorry and Uther have already dug a grave for him. When Hinney gets closer, they gently remove Keril from his arms and place him within.
They fill in the grave and everyone gathers around as each tells of some experience they’d had with Keril.
When they’re done, they secure James and Miko to their horses. Mounting, Illan gets them moving toward the pass, and Cardri.