The mists of sorrow ms-7

by Brian S. Pratt

  “Some day, he and I will meet again,” prophesizes Jiron. “And when we do, only one of us will walk away.”

  “Should that day come I wish you all the luck,” says James. “Right now though, we have to get back to the others.”

  Jiron nods and together they hustle back out the way they came in. Once out of the building they head across the courtyard to the gate. Jiron is internally fuming over what Buka told them, rather what he didn’t tell them. They have a name of where he is, but not where the place is located.

  All of a sudden from up ahead of them, they hear the creak that signals the opening of the gate. Jiron comes to a stop when he sees the two slavers from the Wallowing Swine passing through.

  “You!” one of the slavers exclaims when he recognizes them. Drawing his sword, he advances upon Jiron and James. “You shall die for what you did this evening.”

  “Never again will the music of Kir be heard in this world,” the other yells as he, too, draws his sword.

  Jiron gives them a grin and draws forth both knives. “If it’s a fight you want, I’ll oblige you,” he says. With that he again moves forward, wanting nothing more than to vent the anger and frustration Buka instilled within him on these two.

  As Jiron moves toward the two men, James removes one of his remaining slugs from his belt in the event Jiron should need his help. Just before Jiron reaches them, James catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his gaze in the direction of the movement, he suddenly realizes there are men within the darkness on the far side of the lanterns. Then, he hears a voice speak a command, one that he’s heard dozens of times before in battle with the Empire.

  Just as the twang of a dozen crossbows breaks the stillness of the courtyard, he creates a barrier. A fraction of a second later, the flight of bolts strikes the barrier and ricochets off. That’s when he realizes he unconsciously made the barrier large enough to encompass not only himself and Jiron, but the two slavers as well.

  Jiron, oblivious to what is transpiring around them, is only concerned with the two slavers. For their part, all they want is to kill the men who took the hand of one they held in awe.

  As one slaver thrusts at Jiron, the other brings his sword at an angle to slice into Jiron’s side. Deflecting the thrust to the side with one knife, he brings the other in to catch the oncoming blade on the knife’s crossguard. Thrusting the sword upward, he moves inside the man’s guard and knees him in the stomach. Knocked backward by the blow, the slaver staggers two feet before regaining his balance.

  Turning his attention to the other slaver, Jiron knows he only has a moment before the man he kneed returns to the fight. He strikes out at the first slaver’s head with a knife which causes him to bring his sword up to block the blow, then comes in with the other and opens a three inch cut along his side.

  Now bleeding, the slaver gives an inarticulate cry and brings his sword in for a thrust at Jiron’s midsection. Dancing to the side, Jiron deflects the attack and brings his other knife in for a blow to the man’s neck. Unable to avoid the blow, the slaver cries out as the blade rips into his the left side of his neck, practically severing his head from his torso. Falling to the ground, the slaver flops around a second before becoming still.

  Just then, the other slaver rejoins the fight and strikes at him with an overhand hack which he barely sidesteps in time. Backing up, Jiron readies another attack when he finally takes notice of the barrier. Glancing outside of it, he sees over two dozen slavers ringing them, about half having crossbows. “Don’t worry about them,” he hears James say. “Finish this guy then we’ll deal with the others.” Jiron gives him a nod and advances on the remaining slaver.

  With his partner lying on the ground dead, the second slaver cries out as he launches into a series of blows designed to bully his way through Jiron’s defenses. But Jiron has seen many such attacks before, and by others more skilled than the man before him. Moving his knives quickly and deftly, he deflects the blows and waits for the opening he’s sure will appear.

  He begins to deflect the man’s sword in a pattern he’s used many times to create an opening. Each time the sword comes at him, he deflects it in such a way that the man becomes slightly more unbalanced. Until finally, the opening appears and Jiron strikes out with a barely seen attack and sinks his blade in the man’s chest.

  Stepping backward, Jiron watches as the man looks in confusion at the hilt sticking out of his chest. Then his sword falls from his fingers as he drops to his knees and topples over. Moving forward, Jiron reclaims his knife and wipes both blades off on the man’s clothes. Standing up again, he looks around once more at the ring of slavers surrounding them.

  “What now?” he asks James. He can see the bolts lying on the ground on the other side of the barrier from the futile attempt to attack them.

  With the threat from the two slavers within the barrier nullified, James turns toward those on the outside. “We’re leaving,” he tells them. To Jiron he says, “Follow me.”

  Jiron nods and replies, “Lead on.”

  Altering his course, James no longer moves toward the gates, rather he heads to the back wall of the slaver compound. One slaver gets in their way and threatens them with his sword. Before the edge of the barrier reaches the man, James says, “Move.”

  The slaver either doesn’t understand or ignores the command for he advances forward. Raising his sword to strike, he’s suddenly struck by the barrier before he can complete the maneuver. The unexpected blow knocks him off balance and he hits the ground as James and Jiron continue on by.

  “Look,” Jiron says as he points to the door leading into the building wherein Buka met them. The Guildmaster stands there in the doorway and glares at them as they move closer.

  “I see him,” replies James. When he draws closer, James says to Buka, “We’re leaving. Anyone you send after us will die.”

  “You aren’t going to get away with this,” the Guildmaster states, the implied threat quite apparent.

  “Better men than you have tried to kill us,” Jiron tells him, “yet here we are.”

  Buka didn’t get to be Guildmaster by being stupid or acting foolishly. Having seen the bolts being deflected by the barrier and the subsequent knocking aside of the slaver, he knows there’s nothing he can do to prevent them from leaving. Signaling for his men to back off, they keep a good distance between themselves and the two men protected by the barrier.

  James continues moving forward toward the wall. Beside him, Jiron keeps an eye on those following along behind them as they approach the wall. “They’re still following,” he says.

  “I know,” replies James. Coming to the wall, James summons the magic and directs a blast toward it.

  Bam!

  The wall explodes outward and when the dust clears, they find a ten foot section of the wall gone. James turns back to the slavers and warns them again, “Follow me at your peril.”

  Stepping forward, James and Jiron carefully make their way through the rubble. Once past, they continue in as straight a direction to the edge of town as they can. Before they’ve gone more than half a dozen yards from the hole in the wall, three slavers rush through after them.

  Crumph!

  The ground under them explodes upward and throws them into the air. When the men come back down and strike the ground, they fail to move. “Any more?” James asks.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” Jiron replies.

  “Good,” nods James. Resuming their progress, they continue away from the wall. As long as they have the wall in sight, no more slavers attempt to make it through.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  The coldness of the stone sucks the very warmth from his body. Not for the first time has he questioned the logic which made him leave his friends behind. At the time, all he could think of was vengeance. Those that took his love away from him had to be made to pay and he knew that as long as he continued to travel with James, that was unlikely to happen.

  For a long ti
me, every day was torment for him. Each morning a renewal of his loss and every evening a lonely time spent mourning what no longer could be. At first he sought out and executed ranking members of the Empire’s forces. His first victim was some officer in a small town not too far from where he left the others behind.

  He had ridden into town, eyes red and swollen from his grief. When he saw the officer appear out of a doorway, his vision turned even redder. Not caring about who would see him he leaped from his horse and approached the man. The officer noticed his approach and turned to greet him, but instead was only greeted by the point of one of Tinok’s knives. A quick thrust and it was over, the officer never even had a chance to defend himself. It was murder, pure and simple.

  He bent over and carved a heart with two dots upon the man’s forehead. To this day he still doesn’t know why he did that, but ever since, it became his calling card. Whenever he killed another of the Empire’s officers and nobles, a similar design was carved into their foreheads as well.

  The first year he spent as a loner, moving from town to town, staying on the fringe of society. Not being able to speak the language was a definite handicap at first. But after awhile he began to pick up on it.

  That’s when he began to hear rumors and stories of a great mage who was wreaking havoc among the Empire’s cities and citizens. Each time he heard the tale, the story would grow. A grin would come to him, for he knew that his friends were still alive. And better yet, hurting the Empire.

  At the end of winter and before spring began, he started accumulating people of like mind. First one, then another learned of him and sought him out. Each wanting to work to hurt the Empire. Some were common thugs and murderers who saw him as a chance to strike back at the government that had hurt them so bad. Others were more along the lines of those who wanted a change. They were tired of the way the Emperor and his army controlled everything. How the average person had little chance to improve their lot and so forth.

  So by the time summer came along, he had a band following him numbering two score. He had thought that by this time he would have been captured and killed. Only reason he can think of why they didn’t spend more resources in trying to capture him was that there was another they wanted more. James was playing merry hell with them and they wanted him bad. What forces were sent looking for him were either easily avoided or destroyed.

  Then came the news that Black Hawk, infamous leader of men that he was, had resurfaced. Not only that, but with a band of men was actually pushing the Empire’s forces back. He wouldn’t have credited the story except along with the news of Black Hawk came the tale of how the mage had joined with him.

  That was when he began to go after bigger targets. Armories, workshops, things like that. No longer satisfied with skirting the fringe and taking officers unawares, his force began planning attacks and sowing dissent. Which only brought more people to him. At one point his force numbered over three hundred men.

  But then came the day when he made his mistake.

  He was leading his band to a small town where they planned to make a raid for supplies. Stealing food and other necessities has been the way he kept his force supplied. What money they may come across tends to be spent on other things, like women.

  The town was a nexus for local herders and growers, those that were able to coax something to grow in this type of climate. Earlier, he had sent a man ahead to scout the town who returned with news that the storehouses were filled to capacity. Needing food badly, he turned his force and headed straight toward it. What he didn’t realize was that he was riding into a trap.

  Though he didn’t know it at the time, a smart young officer had been put in charge of hunting him down. And after several months of pursuit, this officer had learned his habits well. So well in fact that he had the storehouses at this town stocked, spread the word of the food stored here, and waited in the hopes Tinok would take the bait. Which of course is exactly what he did.

  When his force rode in and began laying siege to the town’s guards, soldiers boiled out of the neighboring buildings. Out numbered, Tinok’s force was quickly decimated. Only a handful managed to escape. One of those lucky few was Tinok himself.

  Now on the run with a much larger force hot on their heels, they fled. Despite the cunning he had developed during his time as a marauder, he was unsuccessful in losing them. Then the inevitable happened, their horses became fatigued and were unable to outrun their pursuers.

  Tinok decided to make a last stand at an old stone farmhouse they stumbled across. From the relative safety of inside its stone walls, he and the four others who had made it that far with him watched from the windows as the enemy soldiers surrounded them.

  The officer in charge gave them the opportunity to give up peacefully, but that was something none of them was willing to do. Replying in a less than humble attitude, Tinok cast aspersions on the officer’s family tree and told him what he could do with his offer of surrender.

  On three sides of the farmhouse were windows where they could keep an eye on what the enemy was doing. The fourth was solid stone containing neither door nor window. He and the others kept a constant vigil.

  Tinok watched as the soldiers began massing a large pile of wood a hundred feet from the front door. They quickly had the pile of sticks and dried bushes stacked quite high. An hour, maybe two passed after the pile was completed and the enemy sat there and waited. Then, about the time it was growing dark, four riders appeared with bulging satchels tied behind their saddles.

  When the riders stopped and began opening the satchels and removing the contents, Tinok began to understand what they were about to do. For inside the satchels were small bladders that the Empire used in transporting lantern oil. He looked on in growing fear as the pile of wood was lit.

  Again, the officer in charge came to stand before them and said for them to surrender or be burned out.

  Tinok glanced at the others. They all understood what was about to happen, and Tinok’s chest swells with pride as his men to the man refused to surrender. Tinok shouted defiantly out to the officer saying they would rather burn than surrender. The officer replied that he is more than happy to comply.

  Before the onslaught of fire, the officer positioned half a dozen crossbowmen outside of each window and door. He knew that at some point they would have to come out. Once they were in position, he called for the riders. They came with torches and used the now flaming pile to light them. Other riders came and were handed a single bladder of oil each. Then, the onslaught began.

  Three riders with bladders rode fast for the farmhouse and threw the oil filled bladders at the windows. Tinok and the others tried desperately to prevent the bladders from coming through, but when they did, a flight of bolts flew through the windows at them. One of his men cried out as a bolt struck him in the neck. Two of the three bladders successfully made it through and smashed open on the floor of the farmhouse.

  Right behind the riders with the oil came the riders with the torches. Just as the ones before them did, they threw their burning brands through the window. Two of the torches were successfully blocked, but one made it through and landed onto the oil covered floor.

  Whoosh!

  The oil on the floor ignited and fire spread across the floor just as another set of riders came with more bladders of oil. Distracted by the burning oil within the farmhouse, they were unable to prevent the others from coming through. Two of the bladders broke open on impact, increasing the already fierce fire burning across the floor. The third remained intact upon impact. Sitting in the fire as it was, it didn’t take long before it exploded.

  The oil contained within the exploding bladder flew in all directions. One of the men with Tinok was unfortunate enough to be in close proximity to it. He screamed in agony as the burning oil hit him and began to burn.

  Coughing and rasping, he and the two remaining men decided to go out fighting. Kicking open the door, Tinok raced out with knives in hand. Behind him the othe
r two had their swords drawn as they charged the soldiers to sell their lives as best they could.

  No sooner did the door slam open than six crossbows released their deadly projectiles at the escaping men. One went down with two bolts in him, the other gets hit in the leg and continued on. None of the bolts hit Tinok and he saw the crossbowmen twenty feet before him. With a cry, he sprinted for them.

  Regular soldiers quickly moved to protect the crossbowmen and he was soon surrounded with armored men. He managed to drop one of them with a lucky strike before he was struck on the back of his head and knocked unconscious.

  He and his man that was struck in the leg with one of the crossbow bolts were tied and thrown across the backs of two horses. For a week they were taken across the desert until they arrived at what they learnt was the city of Cyst. All of their belongings but their clothes were taken, including the necklace he had given Cassie shortly before she was killed. That more than anything else took the fight from him. His mind burned for revenge, but his heart just felt like ashes.

  He was sure slavery would not be his fate, rather the hangman’s noose. After what he and his men did, there could be no other fate for them. The first day he and Esix, the sole remaining member of his band, waited in apprehension for someone to come and tell them what was going to happen to them. But no one did.

  They remained in one of the slave pens in Cyst for a week, maybe two. Time lost meaning after the first several days as one merged into the next. Each day they waited for the hammer to drop, yet their waiting was in vain for no one came to them. Until one day a man in armor came and took them. No word was given as they were escorted from the pen.

  Neither one of them understood the significance of the man in armor at the time, simply that everyone including the slavers treated him with utmost respect. Tinok thought that some of them held back barely controlled fear while in his presence. He too could feel something about the man, whether from the man himself or due to the reaction of the others, he wasn’t sure.