Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li: The Morcyth Saga Book Three

by Brian S. Pratt

“Alright,” Jiron says as he remounts. Turning his horse toward the road, he continues, “Then let’s do it.” He leads them back to the road where they break into a gallop as they race to the north.

  After only going several miles, the hills begin to smooth out until they’re once more in grassland. There’s a river to the west and as they go further north, it slowly draws closer.

  Several more miles finds them where the road crosses the river. Ahead of them, a mile or so past the bridge, sits a large keep not far off the road.

  They come to a stop in the road before crossing the bridge as they consider their options.

  “Think there’s anyone still in there?” Miko asks, referring to the keep.

  “From here it’s hard to tell,” Jiron replies. “I would think so though.”

  James glances to the east where the hills begin again, about a mile away. “We should return to the hills, they’ll give us more of a chance to get by here without being seen,” he suggests.

  “I agree,” says Jiron as he turns his horse and leads them at a gallop toward the cover of the hills.

  As they reach the hills, James glances over to the distant keep and sees a force of cavalry coming out through the main gate. They’re heading down the road to the south.

  “Jiron, we may have company!” he hollers to him.

  Jiron looks over and sees them leaving the keep. Pushing their horses harder, they make their way into the hills. After they’ve put a large hill between them and the riders, they come to a stop and then dismount before climbing to the top of the hill. Peering over the crest of the hill, they see the riders continuing down the road to the south and not turning to follow them.

  “I guess that answers whether anyone is in the keep or not,” James announces.

  “Yeah,” agrees Miko. “It’s a good thing we got off the road when we did.”

  “I’m just happy they didn’t see us,” says Jiron.

  “Me too,” James says.

  They climb back down to where their horses are awaiting them. Once they’re mounted again, they make their way through the hills toward the northeast.

  An hour of riding brings them to where the hills end. To the north is nothing but open plains. To their left is the river where it turns to the north. They can still see the keep far to the west and are relieved when they fail to see anyone around.

  “We’ll be pretty conspicuous out there,” Jiron says, indicating the open plains.

  “Don’t have much choice unless we want to just sit here forever,” reasons James.

  “Maybe we should stick close to the river?” Miko suggests.

  Shaking his head, James replies, “Might not be a good idea. If there’ll be anyone around, most likely they’ll be by the river.”

  “Oh,” he says.

  “Let’s stick to the plains, but keep the river in view,” suggest Jiron.

  “Alright,” agrees James. “As good a plan as any.”

  Miko gives him an annoyed look.

  “What?” James asks him.

  “You never take my suggestions but are always taking his,” he accuses.

  “Take it easy,” James tells him. “I don’t always take his suggestions. We, meaning all three of us, try to come up with the best course of action. Whichever one sounds the best, we do. Don’t take things so personally.”

  Miko doesn’t look very satisfied with his response.

  “Shall we?” Jiron asks, looking from one to the other.

  “Let’s,” replies James. Miko gives a nod as well.

  Jiron moves out, the others follow as he angles east, away from the river. They proceed until it’s just in view behind them before turning more directly to the north. As they travel, they keep a constant watch for anyone out upon the plains, but it looks as if they’re the only ones about.

  By the time they stop for the night, the keep has long since disappeared behind them. All they can see in every direction now is plains, with the river cutting its way through them to the west.

  They decide upon not lighting a fire so as not to alert anyone in the area where they are. Cold rations are the fare this evening, they still have some cooked meat strips from the previous nights to fill them up. James is still feeling the need for more than just meat, but will have to wait on that.

  During Miko’s shift in the middle of the night, he hears horses racing past off in the distance. In the moonlight, he can make out a group of perhaps ten riders. He almost wakes the others but then doesn’t when he realizes they’re not coming their way.

  When he wakes Jiron for his turn at watch, he tells him of the riders.

  “It might have been that warrior priest,” suggests Jiron once he’s heard.

  “Do you think so?” Miko asks, worried.

  “Don’t be too worried, remember, we’re in the land of the Clans,” he tells him. “It could very well have just been a group of riders moving from one place to another. Nothing says it has to do anything with us.”

  As Miko lies down to sleep, Jiron continues, “Just try to get some sleep, we’ll need our rest tomorrow.”

  “Alright,” says Miko.

  Soon, Jiron can hear the soft sound of his snores in the night. He spends much of his watch staring out across the moonlit plains, searching for riders. He’s much more worried about the riders Miko had told him of than he’d made out, just didn’t want Miko to fret about them.

  In the morning when James awakens he tells him of what Miko saw last night. “I wish I had been awake,” he says to Jiron. “Then I might have felt if Abula-Mazki had been among the group.”

  “If that was him,” Jiron says, “then he’s ahead of us.”

  Nodding his head, James replies, “I know, that could make things difficult to say the least.”

  “He’ll probably enlist the aid of the nearest garrison, as well as send for reinforcements,” Jiron guesses. “We haven’t any time to waste sitting around here.”

  “I agree,” James says as he goes over and wakes up Miko.

  They mount and quickly make their way toward the north, still following the river from a distance. The river continues almost due north as it flows to the south and James finds it odd that there are no villages along the riverbank.

  “I would think there would be someone living along the river,” he states during their travel.

  “Why?” Miko asks.

  “It’s a good place to live,” he tells him. “You have access to fish and fresh water, plus transportation south as needed. It’s just odd is all.”

  “Maybe the clansmen don’t allow anyone to live there?” Jiron guesses.

  “Perhaps,” says James as he reflects upon it. “You may be right, this could be the border area between the Clans’ land and the Empire as agreed upon in that Treaty they’d mentioned. If that’s the case, then there most likely will be minimal people inhabiting this area.”

  “Which could prove beneficial to us,” Jiron says with optimism.

  An hour or two past noon, Jiron points to the west and then hollers out, “James!”

  James looks over to the west and sees a band of riders on the other side of the river. One rider has broken from the others as he races to the north, the others pace them as they move north. He can see the riders casting glances their way.

  “Damn!” James curses. “They’ve seen us.”

  “And it looks like one is going for help,” adds Jiron.

  James begins to angle his horse to the east and the others follow his lead. “Need to put some distance between us, fast.”

  “It won’t take them long to find us now that they know about where we are,” Jiron says as he gallops along beside James.

  “Let’s put off that meeting as long as we can,” James replies as they race through the tall grass. He’s worried that at their speed, one of their horses might put a hoof in a gopher hole or something that will break its leg. That would prove disastrous.

  Glancing behind, he sees that the river and the riders are no l
onger visible. They turn to a more northerly course and push their horses as hard as they can.

  A horn sounding to the southeast causes them to glance over their shoulders. There behind them are several dozen riders coming fast. They look to be clansmen, but which ones they can’t tell from this distance.

  They continue racing north, maintaining their lead from the approaching riders. Hills begin to appear to the northwest. James begins to angle toward them, the hills would give them a better chance than open plains.

  “But what about the riders we saw there earlier?” Miko shouts to James.

  “There’re less of them than what’s behind us,” he replies. “Besides, we stand a better chance among the hills.”

  They continue racing toward the hills, Miko keeps glancing behind them at the pursuing riders. Though they’re not closing the gap, they’re not falling behind either. Worried, he does his best to keep up with the others.

  As they near the hills, they can once more see the river as it flows around the hills to the west. The riders who had been over on the other side are nowhere to be seen.

  “James!” hollers Jiron. “The horses can’t keep this up, we’re going to have to do something about those riders behind us.”

  “I know,” James tells him.

  The first hill they come to rises thirty or more feet above the plains. James steers his horse toward it and begins to climb to the top, the others move to follow him.

  At the top, he gets down from his horse and hands the reins to Miko. “Just don’t let him get away,” he tells him.

  Miko nods his head as he takes the reins.

  Jiron and Miko just stand there as they watch James. He faces the oncoming riders and suddenly brings his hands together and then after holding them closed for a moment quickly flings them open. A dozen small blobs appear to be thrown from his hands and land on the ground.

  When they hit the ground, they begin rolling toward the riders. As they roll through the tall grass, the grass they touch begins to wilt and die, leaving a trail behind them as they continue on toward the riders.

  “What’s he doing?” Miko asks Jiron.

  “I don’t know,” he replies. “Just be glad he’s on our side.”

  James breaks into a slight smile when he overhears that, but otherwise continues his concentration as the blobs roll ever onward.

  The further they roll through the grass the greater in size they become. Where they had started out the size of golf balls, now they’re the size of a bowling ball. It almost seems that the larger they grow, the faster they grow as does the swath of withered grass they leave behind them.

  When the first riders reach the blobs rolling toward them, the lead ball explodes, spraying a sticky goo which envelopes several riders and horses. The others immediately move to pass by their affected comrades, but other blobs explode as they come in close proximity to them.

  One after another, the blobs explode, coating more of the riders in the goo, making it impossible for them or their horses to move. They fall to the ground and struggle to free themselves from sticky mass, but are unable to.

  After the last blob explodes, all but one of the riders has been trapped. James turns back to the others and says, “Let’s go.” He gets on his horse and to the amazement of Jiron and Miko, turns toward the entrapped riders.

  “What are you doing?” asks Jiron.

  “We should leave!” yells Miko.

  Paying them no head, he continues on to the entrapped riders. Having little choice, the other two fall in behind as he heads toward them.

  The lone rider who’s free sees them coming and draws his sword. Turning his horse toward them, he charges, a war cry escaping him.

  James takes a rock he had acquired some time earlier from his pouch and throws it. The rock sails toward the rider and strikes him through the chest, knocking him from his horse.

  When they come closer to the entrapped riders, they can see the markings of the Grey Wolf Clan. James notices with relief that neither Abula-Mazki nor the Clan Chief is among those entrapped.

  As he approaches them, he says, “Can anyone understand me?”

  One of the riders says, “I can.”

  “I didn’t kill you, this time,” he tells him. “Continue to follow me and I will the next time.”

  The rider translates for his comrades and a growl can be heard coming from several of them.

  “You violated the Pact!” the rider accuses them. “For that, you must die!”

  “No!” James shouts back. “Your clan broke it first when they took my friend from the Windriders’ tent. I merely came and reclaimed him.”

  “You lie!” one of them shouts.

  “We already had assurances of safe conduct through your lands,” he tells them. “What possible reason would we have to break the Pact?”

  When his words are translated, muttering can be heard coming from more than one. “Anyway, we’re leaving this area and are not coming back.” He turns his horse toward the north and then says before he leaves, “Follow us at your own peril.”

  “What about us?” cries the rider.

  “This stuff should disappear in a little bit,” he replies. Kicking his horse, he gallops away to the north, Jiron and Miko following.

  “You should have killed them,” Jiron tells him.

  “I don’t kill unless I have to,” he replies. “That may be hard for you to understand, but that is the way I am.”

  “You killed that rider easily enough,” he states.

  “True, but he was attacking and I didn’t believe he’d listen to reason,” he counters.

  “No,” he agrees, “I’m sure he wouldn’t have. Think they’ll stop following?”

  “I don’t know, maybe,” he says. “I did give them something to think about though. Once we’re out of their territory, I’m hoping they’ll stop.”

  “Then all we’ll have to worry about is the Empire’s forces and Abula-Mazki,” he says. Grinning, he continues, “That should be easy enough.”

  James grins back, “I like your optimism.”

  They continue on to the north, again keeping the river at a distance as they move along the eastern edge of the hills. James is still concerned with the disappearance of the riders they’d seen earlier to the west, across the river. He’s sure they haven’t given up the chase, but just where are they?

  He direly needs something to use as a reflective surface so he can scan the area for hostiles. But the only place would be near the river and that area could prove unhealthy right now. When he brings his water bottle to his lips for a drink and discovers it’s empty, he realizes they’re going to have to chance the river anyway.

  They begin moving toward the river, keeping to the area between the hills. Jiron takes the lead as they move through the hills, keeping his eyes out for anyone in the vicinity.

  When they reach the edge of the river, Miko begins watering the horses as Jiron continues keeping a lookout.

  James finds a suitable rock and begins to dig out a hole at the river’s edge. Once he has a hole two feet across, he digs a channel to let in some of the water from the river. When he has enough and the ground has saturated to the point where it won’t immediately drain back into the dirt, he closes off the channel so the small pool can maintain a still surface.

  He concentrates as the image in the pool shimmers and then sees an aerial view of them at the riverbank. Scrolling the image in a wider arc, he sees the entrapped riders. He grins when he sees several of them have managed to extricate themselves from the goo. It will still be some time before they all get free. Despite what he’d told them, he really doesn’t know how long that stuff will stick around. ‘Stick around’, he lets out a chuckle at his pun.

  Getting back to the job at hand, he scrolls to the south and finds the riders they’d seen across the river. Somehow, they’re on this side now and just entering the hills to the south, maybe an hour or two away. He scrolls the image further down but doesn’t see any sort
of bridge. Must be a ford in the river.

  Scrolling north, he fails to see any sign of the rider that had been riding hard to the north. He scrolls even further but only sees more of the river and plains. The draw of magic to scroll so far is becoming quite strong, seems the farther he scrolls the image away from him, the more magic it takes to sustain it.

  He brings it back to the immediate area and sees no one else. Canceling the spell, he gets up and comes over to where Jiron is keeping watch.

  “The riders we left in the goop are still stuck,” he says with a slight grin. “Behind us, the riders we saw on the other side of the river managed to cross and are now entering the foothills.”

  “How far behind us?” he asks.

  “Couple of hours, I would think,” he replies.

  “And ahead of us?” Jiron asks.

  “It looks clear for quite a ways,” he tells him. “I couldn’t see more than about five miles but didn’t see anyone there.”

  “What should we do about the ones behind us?” he asks.

  “Someone’s behind us?” asks Miko as he joins the discussion.

  “Yeah,” James informs him and then quickly relates what he just told Jiron. “Maybe I need to give them a little surprise when they get here,” he muses. “We have time.”

  Ever since leaving the Gathering of the Clans, Sub-leader Ragni of the Grey Wolf Clan has had serious doubts about following these men. After witnessing what had happened back at the camp, he soon realized that maybe they should just let them go.

  But Abula-Mazki would not be denied. Their chief was too much under his influence and so when he went after them when they fled, Ragni and several other Sub-leaders took their men with him.

  When the pass exploded in front of them, he thought the rage of Abula-Mazki would kill them all. Somehow the warrior priest had survived the rocks. All the men around him had been crushed but none of the rocks had even so much as touched him. Somehow, he’d reined in his rage at those who they were pursuing escaped. When told that the only other way to follow would be to backtrack to the eastern pass, his rage again erupted.

  Riding like to kill the horses, he pushed them on until they were through the pass. Once on the other side, Abula-Mazki had sent the Sub-leaders and their groups in different directions in an attempt to locate them, while keeping two of the groups with him. Ragni was glad that his was not one of the groups that had stayed with the unpredictable man.