Once past the bridge, they have to cross several hundred feet before reaching the enemy’s lines. When they reach the halfway point, a single individual exits the palisade’s gate and moves to intercept them.
“Doesn’t look like anyone of much importance,” observes Jiron.
“Maybe not,” he says. “Probably wants to see what we want before deciding if it’s worth being taken before the commander of their army.”
The man is undeniably a soldier, and by the looks of his armor and the insignia upon it, one of high rank. When the two parties are five feet apart, both sides come to a halt. As the bearer of the white flag, it’s customary for James to make the first declaration.
“We wish to parley with the leader of the host,” he states.
“Are you giving your surrender?” the soldier asks.
“No,” James replies. When the man looks questioningly at him, he adds, “Rather to discuss the removal of the Empire’s forces from within Madoc’s borders and the cessation of hostilities between the two nations.”
The man looks in absolute disbelief at him. “Take your foolish notions away before we kill you!” he exclaims, his disbelief turning into annoyance at being bothered by such stupidity.
“You would violate the sanctity of the Flag of Truce?” he asks.
“The Flag does not grant you immunity indefinitely,” the man explains. “Only so long as the talk is in progress and a short time afterward to allow you to return to your side.”
“I am not leaving until I speak with the leader of the Empire’s forces,” James insists.
“Go back,” the man says. “This talk is at an end.” Turning his back on James and Jiron, he begins walking back to his line.
“What should we do now?” Jiron asks quietly once the man has passed beyond where he could overhear the question.
James glances to him and says, “We wait.”
“But they’ll attack shortly,” he tells him. “He as much as promised that.”
“I know,” he replies. “We need them to.”
He and Jiron stay standing there before the assembled soldiers of the Empire. The man who had talked with them stops when he reaches their ranks and turns to observe James and Jiron still standing there.
“How long do you expect them to give us?” James asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies. “But the longer it takes, the more time Delia and the others will have to get into position.
Five minutes go by before the man runs out of patience. A command is given and the crossbowmen move to the fore and take aim on the two men standing alone before them. “I guess time has run out,” observes Jiron.
“It would seem so,” he replies. “I hope this works.”
“So do I,” admits Jiron quietly.
Another command and the crossbowmen release their volley of bolts toward the pair. The soldiers watch in amazement as the two men stand their ground despite the bolts flying toward them. Just before the bolts connect, a shimmering shield springs to life surrounding them. The bolts are deflected to the side.
A gasp ensues from the gathered soldiers as they realize a mage stands before them. Another command and a second volley speeds toward them. Just as the first had, the second volley strikes the shield and is deflected away.
From the defenders manning Lythylla’s wall behind them, a cheer erupts and James glances backward to see the battlement from one end to the other packed tight with observers. Seems the entire garrison and most of the civilians are up there to observe the encounter.
“My turn,” James says, more to himself than anything else. He brings his hands close together and then slowly brings them apart. A myriad of small red orbs flow outwards from between his hands toward the enemy soldiers. The orbs dance and zoom all the while emitting white sparks that sizzle through the air.
Moving quickly, the orbs soon near the assembled Empire soldiers. Before the orbs have a chance to reach them, panic erupts within their ranks and the men begin moving quickly back through the gate to avoid the oncoming orbs. Another cheer erupts from the defenders atop the walls, as well as a little bit of laughter.
As the orbs reach the fleeing men, they begin zinging them with small shocks. Each one doing little harm, but extremely irritating. “Are they going to kill them?” asks Jiron.
“Hardly,” James says with a grin. “It’s just to get their attention.”
“I think it did that,” he agrees.
Suddenly, James causes a starburst of immense proportions to spring into being overhead, bathing the entire countryside in light. It begins descending toward the enemy camp and before it has a chance to descend very far, James feels the tingling sensation which always accompanies another doing magic. Then just as quickly as the glowing orb appears, it winks out.
He turns to Jiron and says, “I guess that ends the question of whether or not they have a mage with them. They do.”
Jiron nods his head in understanding. The orbs don’t last very long once they encounter the soldiers and quickly dissipate.
Then, from within the palisade, the man who had greeted them before once more makes an appearance. James maintains his shield around himself and Jiron as they await his approach.
The man stops several feet from the edge of the shimmering field and says, “The commander has agreed to your proposal for a meeting.”
“Thought he might,” James tells the man.
“Are we to be granted safe passage?” asks Jiron.
“Of course,” he replies. “Feel free to lower your shield at any time should you so desire.”
Jiron snorts at the idea and James says, “If it’s all the same, I would just as soon not.”
Shrugging the man says, “Suit yourself. If you’ll follow me?”
As they move to follow the man, Jiron lets go the pole bearing the white flag letting it fall to the ground. No point in carrying that any longer, both he and James know they’ll not be let go so easily. The man pauses but a moment when the pole hits the ground, then casts a quick glance at the flag lying in the dirt before he resumes his progress toward the palisade.
James follows along behind, Jiron at his side. When at last they pass through the gate, it shuts behind them.
“That’s the signal,” Delia says when the starburst lights the sky. She sees Ceadric nod and then opens one of the pouches hanging at her belt. Taking out a round object, she places it in her sling and moves to the edge of the river.
The moonlight overhead gives her barely enough light to see the far bank as she takes position. Winding the sling over her head for a second, she let’s the object go and it’s soon lost in the darkness. Holding her breath, as does everyone else there for if it goes into the water their plans are ruined, she silently prays there isn’t a splash.
A second and then two passes without the telltale splash indicating the object went into the water. “Good job,” Shorty says from his position further back.
Everyone visibly relaxes, the success of what they do here at the river is paramount if they are to accomplish their mission. She reaches in and takes out another crystal which had been in with the object she just sent to the other side.
‘ You only have a count of one hundred before they lose power,’ James told her when he gave her the pouch. ‘Fifty for the way across and fifty for the way back.’
With James’ words on her mind, she takes the crystal to the river’s edge. She sets it down three feet from the water and then returns to the others. Mounting her horse, she says quietly to the others gathered there, “We must cross swiftly if we are to be able to return this way.”
“We understand,” Ceadric says. The other’s nods are barely perceptible in the moonlight.
“Very well,” she says and then edges her horse toward the water. When she gets there, she recalls the words James told her would activate the spell embedded within the two crystals. The object she had sent to the other side was a clay encased crystal, so encased to have enough weight to make the journey to the other side. Without the clay, the crystal would have been too light to make it.
“Golden Gate,” she whispers. The crystal on the ground before them flares briefly, an answering one can be
