Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two (35 page)

“Yeah!” he replies as he blocks and holds
his opponent’s sword with his knife, while following through with
his sword, taking him through the chest. His sword gets caught in
between his opponent’s ribs and is unable to pull it free. Leaving
the sword there, he grabs the dead guard’s sword just as Jiron’s
opponent falls to the ground. Then they’re off again for the
gate.

This area is relatively clear as most of the
guards and soldiers have gone to the inner section of the city to
hunt for them. They’re able to run quickly through the streets
without fear of being attacked and it isn’t long before the gates
appear ahead of them. “There they are!” Jiron shouts to them as
they race for freedom.

They come to a quick stop when they see at
least thirty soldiers in formation before the gate, as well as a
mage. “You cannot escape!” the mage hollers to them where they’ve
stopped in the middle of the street. “You are greatly
outnumbered.”

James takes a slug and throws it at the mage
who erects a barrier, causing it to ricochet off harmlessly.

The mage just smiles, as he makes ready to
cast a spell. James counters with a spell he’s been devising for
just such a time and is able to release it before the other can
cast his. The mage knows James has done something but can’t detect
anything. He releases a bolt of power and the shield he erected
around himself to ward off the slug suddenly turns orange as the
bolt of power bounces off the shield, turning back onto the
mage.

With a scream of pain, the bolt blasts
through the mage before hitting the shield again and then bounces
back. The bolt then proceeds to fly from one side of the shield to
another until finally running its course. James releases his spell
on the shield and the mage, now a charred corpse, falls to the
ground.

In stunned silence, the guards at the gate
stare for a second at the smoking remnants of their mage lying
there in the street and then a cry erupts from then as they charge
forward.

Crumph!

James releases the power again and the
ground under the approaching men explodes upward, tossing bodies
and debris in every direction. A few men were forward of the area
that erupted and are thrown forward by the blast. Jiron and the
other pit fighters quickly take them out before they have a chance
to recover.

Behind them, they can hear running feet as
hundreds of guards and soldiers, who had been in the inner area of
the city, race to catch them. “To the gate!” James cries as he
begins running through the devastated area littered with dead
bodies before them.

“But it’s closed!” Delia cries as she
hurries behind him.

“Leave that to me,” James tells her as they
race toward the gate.

From atop the wall, crossbowmen begin
raining down bolts at them. But by luck’s good grace, they all fail
to hit their mark.

At the gate, they turn to see the courtyard
beginning to fill with soldiers, hell bent on engaging them.
“There’re too many!” shouts Scar.

“James hurry!” Jiron yells as he and the
other pit fighters turn to face the oncoming men. Being so close to
the gates, the crossbowmen on the wall are no longer able to fire
upon them. He glances back and sees James standing next to the
gates with his hands resting upon them.

Then with an ear deafening crash, the gates
fly open and James sags to the ground. On the other side, two
guards stand in stunned amazement at the opening of the gates. Scar
and Potbelly quickly turn and move through the gate, taking them
out in short order. Jiron helps James up and half carries him as
they hurry through the gate.

Behind them, a swarm of men armed with
swords fill the streets as they race for the broken gates, hot on
their trail. Crossbow bolts fly at them from the walls again once
they’ve passed beyond their protecting cover, but none find their
mark.

Suddenly, they hear horses approaching from
the southwest, hooves thundering toward them across the bridge that
spans the river. Getting set to sell their lives dearly, they’re
stunned to see Shorty and Yorn racing toward them. Behind them are
Ezra and Stig, as well as extra horses for each of them.

“Come on!” Shorty yells as they race toward
them. He gets down and helps assist Jiron in getting James in the
saddle as everyone mounts. Once done, they quickly get in the
saddle and then begin racing back toward the bridge. Potbelly cries
out from his saddle as a bolt strikes him in the side.

“Potbelly!” Scar yells as he slows to come
to his friend’s aid.

“I’ll make it!” he yells back to his friend
as he holds his side, bursts of pain exploding from where the bolt
is sticking out with every stride his horse takes.

As they cross the bridge, James slows his
horse and then comes to a stop. He begins to dismount when Jiron
hollers to him, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Delaying them,” he replies. “I may not be
good for much after this, so be prepared for that. I need a few
minutes.”

Looking back at the mass of soldiers running
toward them, he says, “You ain’t got a few a minutes!”

James ignores him as he concentrates. Jiron
watches as the center of the bridge begins to glow and then becomes
dark again. James suddenly sags to the bridge, unconscious.

“Damn!” Jiron says as he dismounts. Coming
to his side, he puts James back onto his horse and secures him to
the saddle with rope. He gets back on his horse, grabs the reins to
James’ horse and then leads him quickly over the bridge to where
the others are waiting for them.

“What did you stop for?” Scar asks as they
approach.

“I’m not sure,” he replies. “Let’s get
going!”

As they gallop away, the first of the
pursuing men gain the bridge.

Crumph!

The concussion wave washes over them and
they turn to see the bridge exploding into the air. A twenty foot
gap now separates the two sides of the river.

“Damn!” Scar says.

“Let’s move,” Jiron says. “We don’t know how
long we’ll have before they manage to get around that.”

Potbelly groans and then begins to topple
off his horse. Scar jumps down and hurries over to his friend’s
side, catching him before he hits the ground.

Potbelly looks up to Scar as he lays him on
the ground, “I guess this is my last fight.”

Scar sees Delia there and she bends down to
examine the wound. “It’s hit nothing vital,” she tells him. “If we
can get the blood to stop, he should be alright.”

Jiron looks back to the river and can see
that they’ve already started moving some boats toward the broken
bridge to begin ferrying men across. “We don’t have much time,” he
tells her.

“Won’t need much,” she says as she tears a
strip of cloth off her shirt.

Jiron looks again and sees ten men
disembarking from the boats. They begin running to close with them.
Two knives fly in quick succession as Shorty takes out two of the
attackers.

“Hurry please!” Jiron says as he and the
others move to engage with the oncoming men. Side by side, the pit
fighters stand, giving Delia the time to administer to Potbelly.
Scar is a terrible foe as his anger for what happened to his friend
finds an outlet, his two swords weaving a pattern of death no
soldier willingly enters.

As she starts to bind the wound, leaving the
bolt in his side, Roland asks, “Aren’t you going to take it
out?”

“No,” she replies. “If I do, it’ll leave a
hole allowing more blood to escape. He’s already lost too much as
it is.”

The attackers fall like stalks of grain
before the scythe as they engage the waiting fighters. Keeping her
mind on Potbelly and doing her best to ignore the fighting going on
fifteen feet away, she finally finishes up with binding his wound.
With Roland’s help, they manage to get him on a horse, securing him
in the same manner as James. When he’s secured, she turns and
yells, “Let’s go!”

She quickly mounts her horse as the pit
fighters take out the few remaining soldiers and then run to where
their horses are waiting. Glancing back to the river, she sees two
more boats disembarking another twenty soldiers. “Hurry!” she yells
to Scar and the others as they reach the horses and begin mounting.
Crossbow bolts fly at them from the river, but from that distance
they’re not much to worry about.

Back into the saddle, they turn and race
down the road, leaving the enemy far behind. After putting several
miles between them, they slow the horses, saving them in case of
the need for speed.

“Where did the other horses come from?”
Jiron asks Shorty.

“After you guys left, we figured that we
might need to leave in a hurry so we traded all the wagons and the
goods for the horses,” he says.

“What about the money chest?” Delia
asks.

“It’s divided among the saddlebags,” he
tells her. “Each horse is carrying roughly the same amount.”

Jiron nods his head, “Smart thinking.”

Shorty smiles back to him and replies, “We
knew you guys wouldn’t be able to leave without disturbing a few
people.”

“Yeah,” Yorn interjects. “So we positioned
ourselves near the wall and just listened for where the commotion
was the loudest and figured that would be where you were.”

“You figured right,” Scar says as he rides
next to his friend Potbelly. “We are going to need to find
somewhere to hole up for a while, so Potbelly can recover.”

“Any ideas?” Jiron asks.

“We could cut cross country, try to find
someplace away from civilization,” Roland suggests.

“But that would be the first place I would
look if I was them,” Jiron replies. “Of course, any place near here
will be searched in no time, as well. No, I think we better put as
much distance between us and them that we can, stay on the road as
long as possible.”

Scar understands the logic, but is worried
for his friend who doesn’t look very good. “Hang in there Pot ol’
boy,” he says to him.

A little after midnight, James regains
consciousness, though is still extremely weak and tired. “What’s
going on?” he asks, looking around groggily.

“We’ve been riding all night, ever since you
blew up the bridge,” Jiron tells him. “Right now we’re looking for
a good place to stop and rest.”

“Can’t take the chance that their forces
will get ahead of us,” he says. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

“Potbelly is in a bad way and the horses are
tired,” Jiron explains. “We can’t keep going very much longer.”

“I’ll leave it to your judgment then,” he
says, before passing out again.

Roland comes up next to him and asks, “Why
not go off the road here and see if we can find a spot? We’ve
traveled a long ways and hopefully their patrols won’t reach this
far so fast.”

“You’re probably right,” he agrees. “Anyway,
James and Potbelly need to rest.” He leads them off the road and
they travel cross country for another hour before coming to an old
abandoned farmhouse. They bring James and Potbelly inside before
they picket the horses nearby.

Delia has them lay Potbelly on the floor in
the front room. Scar stays with her while the others see to the
horses. She begins to unbind his bandages around the bolt. She
looks to Scar and says, “It’s time for it to come out.” Removing
the rest of the bandages, they can see where the skin around the
shaft of the bolt is beginning to turn red. Drops of blood continue
to well out from around it.

He nods as he watches her take out a needle
and remove a thread from her shirt.

When she has the thread through the eye of
the needle and tied securely, she says, “Alright, you gently pull
out the bolt and I’ll sew it close.”

He grabs the portion of the bolt sticking
out of Potbelly’s side and looks to Delia who nods. Then with a
gentle, even pull, he removes the bolt as blood begins streaming
out.

“Quickly!” she says to him, “pinch the wound
closed so I can sew it together.”

As he holds the wound together to inhibit
the flow of blood, he looks to the unconscious Potbelly and
murmurs, “Glad you’re not awake for this.” He continues holding the
wound together until Delia has completely sewn it closed. Tying it
off, she has him remove his hands and the stitches hold securely,
only a few drops of blood continue seeping through between the
stitches.

Taking some water, she washes away the blood
from Potbelly’s side and then dries it with an extra shirt. Using
strips of cloth she tore from a spare shirt, she once more binds
the wound. When she’s done, she says to Scar, “Hopefully we can
rest here at least a day to let this heal. Keep a watch on him and
don’t allow him to move around very much, we don’t want him to tear
open the stitches.”

“I will,” he assures her as he settles down
next to his friend.

When the others have returned from picketing
the horses, Jiron sets up a watch schedule and takes the first
shift. He finds a place outside where he can see anyone approaching
and settles in until its Scar’s turn.

Shortly after he begins his watch, Delia
comes out and sits with him. “You need to get some rest,” he tells
her.

“In a moment,” she replies. “Just needed to
get out of there for a bit.”

“Potbelly’s snores bothering you?” he asks
her with a smile.

“No, not really,” she replies back. “I just
can’t get being questioned by Lord Cytok off my mind.”

“It’ll get better over time,” he assures
her. “Some things, especially intense situations like that, have a
way of hanging around longer with you than others.”

“I suppose,” she says. She gives him a quick
glance and continues, “Did anyone tell you why he captured us?”

He shakes his head and replies, “No, not
yet.”

“Well, the last package on the list was for
his estate,” she tells him. “When we went to deliver the goods, the
man at the gate called the guards and had us taken. It seems that
the smugglers had worked for Lord Cytok, in fact his is the name on
that letter James has been showing everyone.”