nods in reply.
To Aleya, James says, “Whatever happens, stay with Jiron.” When he sees her nod, he continues, “If we should get separated, we’ll meet at the first inn, an hour’s ride north of Kern. Wait there a day, then head up to Trendle. Find a Forest Warden there by the name of Ceryn and let him know what happened. Got that?”
She again nods her head. “What are you going to do?” She asks, a touch of fear in her voice. Whether it’s from what he might do or those pursuing them is hard to tell.
“Just do it!” he yells at her then closes his eyes.
She glances to Jiron who looks at her grimly and shrugs. “Don’t ask me,” he tells her. “But whatever he’s about to do won’t be pretty.”
Swallowing hard she looks ahead of them and gasps. Arrayed across the field a mile before them, situated between them and Kern, are hundreds of soldiers, both mounted and foot. Another several hundred archers are positioned behind them.
“Oh my god!” she cries.
Chapter Twenty Five
Summoning the magic, James wrestles for control of the wind. His adversary is very strong, but like him, has already used most of his magic reserves in the battle thus far. In his mind’s eye, it almost seems like a tug of war as the winds are pulled first one way then another. They’re both evenly matched, neither able to take complete control from the other.
“James!” he hears Jiron exclaim. Opening his eyes a fraction, he sees the men arrayed before them. Damn! Closing his eyes once more, he abruptly changes tactics.
From the tales he’s heard of this mage he was at first worried about meeting him head to head. True, he was a mage of some power in his own right, trained by the Empire’s greatest living masters. When as a boy he had been tested along with others whom they felt had real potential, he was the only one to be selected for their School of the Arcane.
He first came to hear of this rogue mage when Zythun had been killed in the cataclysmic explosion at the City of Light. Not only killing him but taking out a good third of the forces which had been sent with him.
Then several more of their brethren had perished in duels with this man, leaving only a handful of full Adepts left in the Empire. The others he can understand him besting, they were not as powerful as Zythun had been, but Zythun? He was one of the most powerful and skilled of all the Adepts. Only a few could claim to be better.
So when he first felt the rogue mage on the plains of Kern, he felt dread come over him, as if his doom was nigh. He didn’t expect to live through the encounter as he rode out to keep him from reaching the protection of the Cardri army. Yet, the rogue mage has done nothing he’s been unable to counter. In fact, he seems to be getting the better of him in the struggle for the winds.
Pushing the winds toward the mage, driving the fire to consume him, he can feel the force of the mage’s power begin dwindling, as if he’s already used too much of his inner power. Encouraged, he continues attempting to wrest total control of the winds from this upstart.
Sudden movement from the flames ahead of him catches his eye and he slows his horse. Pausing not ten feet from the inferno, he scans the flames ahead of him. Something’s odd about the flames, though he can’t quite put his finger on it.
Suddenly, lurching out of the flames toward him, walks a six foot tall figure of flame. Staggering awkwardly, the fiery figure moves quickly as it closes the distance between them.
Neighing in fear, his horse rears backward at the fire creature’s approach and knocks him off. Hitting the ground hard, the mage lands on his leg at the wrong angle and the bone snaps. The pain breaks his concentration and he feels the rogue mage wrest complete control of the winds.
Looking up from his position on the ground, he sees the lumbering figure of fire coming for him. Crying out from pain as the fiery figure’s hand touches him, he tries to scoot backward in a vain attempt at escape. But the fire continues up his arm until he’s engulfed in a fiery embrace and his screams echo across the plains as the flames consume him.
Keeping his eyes closed, pain erupting from behind his forehead from creating and maintaining the fire creature, he tries to stay on this side of consciousness. With the mage’s death, he’s now in total control of the winds. Struggling against the pain which threatens to break his concentration, he directs the winds to push the fire back toward the Empire’s approaching troops. He can feel more than see them beat a hasty retreat as the fire changes directions and moves rapidly toward them.
Opening his eyes a fraction, he sees Jiron and Aleya slightly ahead of him riding fast toward the line of Cardri troops. Archers are putting arrows to string and the pikemen in the front line lower their pikes, forming an impenetrable wall of death.
James slows his horse and when the others take notice, they slow theirs as well. Still in control of the winds, he increases their velocity between them and the soldiers.
“They’re Cardri’s!” Aleya yells at him. “The forces from Kern!”
Nodding that he understands, he again closes his eyes and concentrates. Sweat is pouring down his face as he pushes the winds into ever greater ferocity. Heart thumping wildly, he wonders just how much more he’ll be able to do. Hopefully, enough to see them through.
“What’s going on!” hollers Aleya.
Beginning to recognize what James is doing, Jiron pulls a cloth out of his back and begins wrapping it around his face. “Cover your face!” he yells to her.
“What?” she yells back.
“Cover your face!” he repeats as he ties the cloth into place.
The wind continues to increase in intensity and dirt begins stinging her face as it’s whipped off the ground by the wind. Understanding finally dawns on her, she pulls a piece of cloth from her pack and wraps it around her face as well. She glances back to James and can see he’s still in deep concentration, Jiron has the reins to his horse in hand.
“Now!” yells James, his voice cracking from the exertion of trying to bend the winds to his will. The air between them and the lines is all but occluded by the amount of dust and dirt being picked up by the winds.
Turning to Aleya, Jiron yells over the roar of the wind, “Let’s go!” Getting his horse in motion, he begins moving to the left flank of Cardri’s lines in the hopes of bypassing them without being seen. As they go, the air continues to increase in density as the wind keeps slamming into the ground, drawing more and more dust into the air. In just a few more moments, the lines of Cardri’s soldiers can no longer be seen.
“Hurry!” James tells them, barely heard over the wind. “Can’t hold this much longer.”
Breaking into a gallop, Jiron continues to lead them toward where he believes the flank of Cardri’s forces to be. The dust in the air is providing them ample cover in which to hide and be able to sneak across the lines unseen. When he believes he’s passed their flank, he turns them due west.
Suddenly before them, the line of Cardri soldiers appears out of the storm. He’d miscalculated and had brought them directly into their lines. The men have their faces covered in order to protect their eyes from the flying dirt and fail to see them as they appear out of the storm.
Unable to stop, Jiron plows right into their lines. Men cry out and swords flash. Keeping tight hold to the reins of James’ horse, he continues forging his way quickly through their lines. With the flying dust adding to the confusion of just what is happening, he’s able to bring himself and James past the first group of men quickly.
A space of ten feet separates the footmen he just went through and the archers positioned behind them. Not having any choice, he continues on through their lines as well, knocking archers to the ground, all the while praying he doesn’t do any a serious injury. He realizes he can’t stop to see about their well being, he’d be taken for an attacker for sure.
The storm continues to rage, the dust now so thick he can’t even see the end of his horse’s nose. He finally realizes that he’s past the archers when after a minute’s further riding, he no longer comes into contact with any.
He slows to a stop and pulls James’ horse close. “We’re through,” he hollers. “You can stop now!” Whether
