by Zack Finley
Argon messaged me. "No tree this time, pee on the moss. I promised we'd leave them a deposit if they made it comfortable for us to rest here."
I thought about it for a moment and decided, "why not?"
In a few minutes, we were ready to go. The king’s guard and ex-slaves were making good progress. They'd distributed the slavers' weapons. A growing group of men and women were now carrying clubs or lengths of chain as weapons. They had an assembly line of burly men, using the chain breaker to sever chains. Those still chained together were in line waiting their turn at freedom.
I told the king’s guard I'd return to pick up four of them to help at the new camp in about an hour. When I asked about injuries, they confirmed that nearly all the slaves had one or more serious injuries from past beatings including broken bones, infections, cuts, sprains, and wall-to-wall bruising. One of the guards told me in a whisper the slavers had raped all of the women and several of the men. Argon reminded me that although injured the former captives were stable and we needed to save our remaining healing magic for more critical cases.
Argon confirmed privately that rape of any kind on Jaloa was unusual, but male-on-male rape was nearly unheard of.
We had two more camps to liberate, and then we could rest.
We greeted Gera and the scout at the camp four teleport site. I told the scout he would need to stay to help release the slaves but that I was bringing four king’s guard to help as soon as we liberated the camp.
I asked Gera to teleport right away to meet up with Lt. Brik's men. I was worried they would get into trouble with this last group of raiders and without a teleport location; we wouldn't be able to help.
I was a little surprised at Gera's willingness to get back in the fray. He'd already run one basas into the ground, although Argon insisted the basas would recover quickly.
Gera was a changed man. He had exuded a lack of enthusiasm nearly every time anyone gave him an assignment since leaving Augun. He'd never said no, but he didn’t volunteer, either. Now, with this new attitude, we might be looking at a future recruit for the Klee King’s Guard.
I wished him luck and told him to call us if he needed us and he 'ported out.
It was nearly 2 hours after sunrise. We suspected the whole camp would be moving around. The slavers were probably wondering why their raider contingent was late returning. I feared they'd be nervous and trigger happy. A bad combination for keeping the captives safe.
We sneaked into a position we could monitor all the guard posts using Argon's invisibility spell. This time there were nine slavers again. Two had crappy mind shields, but none had any new information worth keeping them alive. The slaves were milling around in a shallow bowl below us. The slavers were all armed. They were patrolling the ridge watching the slaves very closely. I observed several kept looking toward Asme every few minutes. They all were worried something had happened to the raiders. Both the slaves and the slavers knew that nine slavers would not be able to feed and water them all.
The slavers had already discussed shooting every other male captive on each chain. The dead slaves would reduce the men’s mobility and allow the slavers to separate out the best strings of women. The slavers felt offering up the female slaves would be enough to get them admitted to a different group of raiders.
This wasn't the first time their crew had been late getting back so while the guards were nervous, they weren't ready to begin liquidating the merchandise, yet.
Argon and I chose to take the guards down hard and right away. I assumed responsibility for the first three, Argon had the second three, and I picked up the last group. We would then clean up any leftovers.
With a single command, nine rocks blasted toward the guards.
One rock knocked down its target with a glancing blow and in a heartbeat, Argon smashed him.
Argon moved down to help those in the slave pit. The captives witnessed the removal of the guards and were fearful we might be worse. It didn't take long for Argon to reassure them after she banished the stone anchors and began removing their chains.
I went to tell the scout to meet with Argon and then returned to camp three to pick up four helpers.
Camp three was well on its way to freeing everyone. There were signs of returning order with several roaring cooking fires heating large containers of chee. Everyone seemed to have an assignment. One of the king's guard was helping inventory the camp supplies and the others were scattered around lending a hand here and there. I magically enhanced my voice to get the guards' attention over the hubbub of chatter. The four guards assigned to the next camps trotted over.
I teleported them into camp four where Argon and the scout were already helping the captives free themselves. The four king's guard I brought were now experienced camp liberators, and they helped the captives get organized.
We checked in with Gera. He and three members of the king's guard were riding hard toward Lt. Brik's last known position. Gera estimated they were at least an hour away. They were bringing the string of basas with them, but the wounded remained behind in carts at the earlier teleport site.
Olive was still some distance from the last slave camp. She jumped at the suggestion for Argon and me to teleport to her location immediately. This would leave her free to join Gera in supporting her king’s guard. Argon and I would then ride to the last camp.
I told her she needed to take the scout with her. I didn't want to leave him alone and on foot in the region. From the way Olive agreed, she thought I was an idiot for thinking she would have left him.
Argon and I decided this plan would get us to camp five as quickly as possible and give Lt Brik additional support. I tried contacting him via com-card but couldn't reach him. Argon didn't think that meant anything bad had happened to either the king’s guard or Lt. Brik. It was more likely the card enchantment just ran out of magic. With a mage-to-mage com-card, the mage on the receiving end could just recharge the enchantment if that happened but with mundane cards that wasn't possible.
We teleported to Olive's location and took possession of the basas. She grabbed her scout firmly by the arm, and they were gone.
Argon spoke with her a few moments later. Olive and Gera were in hot pursuit of Lt. Brik's company. Neither had a good idea where they were on the map, but the dust plumes a few miles in front of them indicated Brik's company was not that far away.
The last slave camp was in rough mountainous terrain. We were navigating by dead reckoning, so it was easy to end up in one box canyon after another. In the flatter country near Asme, setting off cross-country allowed you to make a beeline for the identified location. This rocky landscape with steep ravines, not so much.
If we didn't get a break soon, we'd have to abandon our basas and start climbing. At least that way we could use levitation to get around obstacles. What I wouldn't give for a satellite map. Or a drone with a camera. The rising sun was a constant reminder that time was running out.
Argon began talking with the plants. I failed to notice it at first because I still found it difficult to think about.
The plants didn't like the group making a camp in their area. While they left plenty of nutrients behind, they were unnecessarily destructive. And, disrespectful.
Argon took the lead and followed the plants' complaints until we intersected a well-used trail. Argon radiated just the faintest whiff of smugness with a slight tang of "I told you so."
About 15 minutes on that trail, I could sense the minds in the new camp. Argon's force and mind magic were still too low for my comfort. She piggybacked along as I studied the situation in camp number five.
It was bigger than the other camps and had nearly twice as many guards and more than twice as many captives. The guard leader seemed worth interrogating more thoroughly.
The slaves were in a box canyon, with the slavers wielding crossbows in the three blocked sides.
On the fourth side, something that looked remarkably like concertina wire blocked the entire opening. A
guard tower made of rough logs and lumber anchored the middle of the gap. Three guards kept watch from the tower.
I could see why the plants were complaining, the slaves had trampled every bit of greenery into dust.
This camp posed our toughest challenge yet.
I used my mind-reading app to verify the available information. The guards were definitely expecting the marauders to return. They seemed more annoyed the marauders were late than worried. I was relieved to note the guards were spending more time looking outwardly than toward their captives.
Camp procedures required they wait for the larger group to return before feeding or watering those in the slave pens. There was a definite feeling this group of slavers believed they were at the top of the food chain.
Taking down 20 guards at once would be more difficult than prior camps, but I just considered it a new stretch goal. And, there was no shortage of rocks.
We prepped 20 shots and expected some to go astray. Just for fun, I added banishment of the rock and dirt from under two of the legs of the guard tower. I figured this would cause the tower to fall away from the slaves.
I was tempted to get fancy until Argon reminded me we'd been fighting part of the day and all night and our objective was to take these scumbags down, hard.
In the layered spell we put stunning the leader first, then 19 rock shots, followed by the guard tower collapse.
Argon and I slipped into our combat dance and time slowed down. Between heartbeats, she triggered the layered spell. The guards fell nearly as one, and the tower quivered, hesitating momentarily before crashing to the earth.
As the sound of the crashing tower abated, a mind scan showed one of the slavers in the tower was still alive, albeit barely.
The rest wouldn't be bothering us or anybody else in this lifetime.
Argon went to the slaver we stunned while I trotted toward the guardhouse. I located the injured slaver. After reading his mind, a quick death was better than he deserved but I slit his throat anyway.
The captives reacted fearfully to the collapsing tower. I noticed some of the chains of males were attempting to shield some of the women. Those at the fringes were pointing excitedly toward the dead guards.
With the last camp down, Argon was feeling better about her force magic reserves. She teleported the stunned slaver to Klee, having arranged to meet Inoa there. Argon had great hopes Inoa would learn something new from this captive. She planned to chat briefly with Inoa before returning.
“Inoa is exhausted,” sent Argon. “She sent one of her aides to take this guy off our hands promising to brief us before too long. I’m coming back to help free the camp.”
She 'ported back to join me just as I sensed something was dreadfully wrong. Someone was probing my mind shield aggressively; alerting me, there was a powerful mage in the area.
I spotted his location and threw every preconfigured attack I had toward him. But I knew it was too late when Argon materialized beside me. Right in the path of a magic spear.
I pushed her aside and threw myself in front of her, to shield her with every fiber of my being. When the shaft of magic and metal slammed into me, I knew I won. Argon was safe.
Dying was damned painful. And noisy. And filled with strange lights and weird language. Argon was in my head and wouldn't let me go. To make her happy I said, "heal me" and must not have done it well enough, so I sais it over and over again.
Why Alba was in my dream was confusing, but she pushed me to say, "heal me," too. And then, everything quieted down, and I finally got to sleep with Argon curled up beside me. I was so happy she was safe it made everything worthwhile.
When I surfaced the next time, Argon was still there, and she was urging me to say "heal me" again. I wanted to complain, but it was too hard to resist anything she wanted. But, it was getting very repetitive.
Alba returned to my dream and then it was quiet again.
I was awake this time. My chest was on fire. I learned I was as weak as a kitten when I couldn't even raise my head to look around. I wasn't alone in my room. I was surprised to see Tobron there. I knew he had lots to do at our headquarters. And what was he doing in my bedroom? How kinky.
While I knew it was odd, my mind was too unfocused to care why. If it was, it was. Acceptance, my new mantra.
Then my love came into the room. Why she was hugging Tobron was weird but not worth stressing over. I was just happy to see her.
Where was Tobron going? Oh well, he left. He'll be back, or not.
Argon soothed the pain in my chest, and I relaxed. She urged me to sleep. Much better than "heal me."
I knew I was in a hospital when I finally woke up. This time I was alone. This time I wasn't full of acceptance. I was full of anger. I looked at my chest. There was a saucer-sized area of pink leather on the right side. The pain in my back suggested a similar mark there.
I called out in a panic to my mate and our link reconnected. When I tried to learn what had happened, I found she was shielding me from something. From everything.
I didn't want her shielding me from anything for my own protection, I roared through our link.
I wasn't surprised when Argon materialized beside my bed.
"Quit being a baby," she sent. "You've had a major injury, and nobody wants you to have a relapse. You are only alive by the slimmest of margins. By all that we know, you should be dead."
Argon shared the fear, grief, and anguish that had been the center of her life for the past three days. She slid into my bed, seeking physical contact to assure herself I was really okay. She was careful not to touch my right side.
While I knew my love still kept some things from me, I knew when I was strong enough we would face them together.
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Author’s Notes:
Thank you so much for reading this book and giving a new author your vote of confidence. I hope you leave a review to help others pick this book out from all the others that appear on Amazon each month.
The good news is I finished “Mad Toffad’s Keep” (Book 2 of Dire Prophecy) before launching “Dire Prophecy” so, barring unforeseen issues, you should be able to check out the second installment of life on Jaloa within a month.
I’m already well along on book 3 (title still in the works).
I decided up front I would write three books about this world and the characters that have ignited my imagination totally on faith that readers of fantasy/sci-fi would also enjoy them. This commitment has taken months of hard work and sleepless nights to transform a flight of fantasy into a three-book reality.
I’m hoping readers want to learn more about life on Jaloa. Readership is the main measure of success and failure in self-publishing. If people read this and the next two Dire Prophecy books, I will continue writing about Steve and Argon.
Thanks again for your support.
Check out my blog at https://www.zackfinley.com/ for more information. Like me on Facebook at .facebook.com/direprophecy/
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About the Author
Zack Finley is my pen name. My spouse and I live on about 100 acres in rural Mendocino County, California. When I say rural, it means we depend on satellites for internet and television. Only one cell phone company works at our place, and that carrier gets less than one bar if you stand at the far corner of our deck. Sometimes texts work, sometimes not. We depend on a landline that is frequently out of service several times a year.
Our main news feed is monitoring the county emergency services scanner. This was a lifesaver for many during last year’s deadly firestorm.
I have a degree in Chemical Engineering and worked 25 years for a large oil company in refineries and chemical plants across the country. I started at a refinery in the San Francisco area. While I moved too many times in between, I was working there again when I retired. During my tenure, I had more than 15 different assignments and spent a whole lot of company money. I enjoy building stuff, and I had my hand in a lot of construction. I re
tired when I could.
We’ve lived in Mendocino County for about 20 years and share the land with bears, mountain lions, bobcats, deer, and many smaller critters. Our pond has water in it year ‘round and is full of mosquito fish, turtles, and the occasional newt. We get nearly five feet of rain each winter but none in the summer months. Some winter and early spring snows but it usually melts away within a few days.
We escaped the rat race of the city and fully embraced a rural lifestyle. On a new homestead, there was lots of hard physical work to do. Over nearly a decade I built a large workshop, upgraded our road, planted a huge garden, planted trees, cut down dead trees, cut and split firewood. I trained our deer to eat deer resistant plants and our bears to tear through fences and snap trees to get to the ripe fruit. I taught bears and raccoons to raid our compost pile, even when protected by a cage.
Mostly we live in peace with our critter friends, with rattlesnakes being the main exception. When rattlers come on my deck and around the outside of the house, they die. I have no interest in risking a rattlesnake bite for myself, my spouse, nor my pets. During rattlesnake season, we watch where we step. They are territorial, and I am territorial. They can live in peace on the other 99 acres, they just are not welcome around my house.
My spouse worked part-time off and on, but I was satisfied with life on our homestead.
And then, one day that was not enough. I left retirement and became a reporter for our small-town newspaper. Years passed, my editor retired, and I moved up into the hot seat. Years later, the corporate ax fell. My newspaper was cut to one reporter and one front office staffer. When told the cuts were not negotiable, I quit.
I’m now in my second retirement and writing novels.
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