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.
