Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six (14 page)

They make their way quickly and quietly
toward the siege equipment, stepping lightly to remain unheard. As
shadows in the night, they close the distance until they are within
range of their slings. Delia brings them to a halt and gathers them
in a close huddle as she talks to them. Ceadric’s archers keep
watch around them.

She takes out one of the glass spheres
contained within her pack and holds it up before them. “These are
filled with oil,” she explains. “Hit each of the catapults with
three.” Then glancing to Aleya and Errin she says, “Once they’re
covered in oil, light those arrows James gave you and set the oil
afire.”

They nod their heads in understanding.

“Start with the bridges,” she says. “Just as
we practiced, space yourselves and begin with the one at the far
right and work to the left. Be quick, we won’t have much time.”
When she sees they understand her, she says, “Get in position.”
Then she moves to Hedry, the man in charge of the archers. “You
ready?” she asks.

In the moonlight, she can see him give her a
grin as he says, “Whenever you are.”

Turning back to her slingers, she sees
they’ve already moved into position with a gap of five feet between
them. Each slinger’s sack containing the glass oil bombs as James
calls them sits before them on the ground. Coming up behind
Terrance, she lays her hand on his shoulder and says, “Take your
time and aim for the center. They’re big, so if you’re off a
little, you should still be able to hit it.”

Terrance glances over his shoulder and says,
“I hope so.”

Behind them, three of Hedry’s men place their
shields together upright on the ground to form a small wall. Behind
that wall, one of Hedry’s men gets a fire going. Next to it, Aleya
and Errin remove the specially prepared arrows and place them on
the ground next to them. After a moment, a small glow can be seen
coming from behind the shields, the majority of the light is being
blocked.

Seeing that all is in readiness, she
whispers, “Ready!” Taking an oil bomb out of the sack before her,
she sets it into the cup of her sling. “Fire at will,” she says and
then begins to twirl her sling over her head. Beside her up and
down the line, the others take an oil bomb and set it in their
sling.

Hedry’s men take position behind the
slingers, alert for any enemy soldier that may be in the area. When
Hedry was told what they planned to do, he thought it was madness.
Surely the catapults and bridges would have guards and scouts in
the area in case Madoc’s forces tried just this sort of maneuver.
Illan had told him the likelihood of there being enemy sentries
behind their lines would be remote. The part of the stream they
crossed is impassable except by boat so the chances were good they
would be able to sneak right up to them before any knew they were
there. And so far, he’d been right.

Delia lets the oil bomb fly and watches as it
flies into the opening of one of the bridges, striking the
interior. As the bomb shatters, oil is splayed all over the sides
and the floor. Before the first bomb shatters, the second is
already in her sling.

Next to her, Terrance has loosed his first
bomb and out of the corner of her eye, she sees it strike the
bridge next to the one she’s working on. A satisfied, “Yes!” is
heard and she grins.

The first couple of bombs strike the bridges
before the enemy even realizes something is amiss. Hedry watches as
one soldier who stands near a bridge under attack turns as the
second bomb strikes. The man calls out to another soldier nearby as
he moves closer just as the third bomb strikes.

When the bomb shatters right before him, he
staggers backward in shock, oil splattering his armor. Just then,
an arrow from one of Hedry’s archers flies from the dark and takes
him through the chest. The soldier stumbles backward and collapses.
Several enemy soldiers see him fall and the arrow sticking out of
his chest.

A cry erupts and at that, arrows start flying
out of the dark as Hedry’s archers begin taking out the enemy
soldiers quickly. Their cry raises the alarm and soon the entire
rear flank turns from where they’ve been watching the area near the
palisade and rushes to the defense of their siege equipment.

“Now, Errin!” Delia cries.

Behind her, Errin and Aleya each take up one
of the specially treated arrows and dip the tip in the fire behind
the shields. Each arrow has an oil soaked rag tied just behind the
arrowhead which ignites quickly. Taking but a moment to aim, they
fire at the oil coated bridges.

Two arcs of fire soar through the air, each
striking adjacent bridges. When the flaming arrows sink into the
oil soaked wood, the oil bursts into flames. Using one arrow per
bridge, they soon have all the bridges aflame and begin on the
catapults.

Delia has moved onto her first catapult by
the time the first bridge erupts in flame. The slingers continue
peppering the remainder of the catapults as bridge after bridge
begins to burn.

The enemy soldiers at first didn’t see from
which direction the attack had originated. But when the flaming
arrows began to appear, one soldier gives out with a cry and they
surge forward.

Arrows fly from Hedry’s archers as the
soldiers race past the fires to close with them. Some stop and
attempt to put out the fires, those that do are the first to be
targeted by the archers. The bridges must burn.

Ceadric draws his sword and says to the men
mounted behind him, “For Madoc and Black Hawk!”

With battle cries filling the night, the
horsemen charge forward and close with the enemy foot soldiers
before they have a chance to reach Delia and her group. Riding them
down, the battle hardened men lay about them with their swords,
felling men left and right.

More soldiers stream into the area, racing to
put out the fires consuming the siege equipment, but arrows
continuously knock them backward.

Before the last few catapults have been
struck by the bombs, a not so distant horn sounds from out of the
darkness to the right and another answers from the left.
It’s a
trap!

On the far side of the palisade, James and
Jiron are led across an open area toward a large tent bearing the
Empire’s flag. Now on the other side, they can see just what awaits
them in the coming battle, should battle there be. A sea of tents
fan out for over a mile. Men are virtually everywhere but most are
congregating in the area just behind the palisade, armed and ready
for battle. The camp is immense.

The rear of the palisade has a walkway near
the top to afford crossbowmen a place to stand while they rain
bolts down upon anyone foolish enough to attack. Numerous wagons,
horses and the usual accompaniment for an army in the field are
present as well.

Around them, the soldiers stand in hushed
silence as he’s led through their ranks. Jiron’s right hand stays
on the hilt of his knife where it still rests in its scabbard.
Walking beside James, he tries to take in as much information about
the layout and makeup of this army as he can. Such information
could be useful when they return to Lythylla.

As they near what has to be the command tent,
two guards stationed at either side of the entrance come to
attention as the man leading them passes through. The tingling
sensation of magic grows as James makes to enter. Not so much that
another is increasing what they are already doing, rather that he’s
coming into closer proximity to it.

“There’s magic inside, stay close,” he says
in a whisper to Jiron before entering.

A table has been erected within the tent,
large enough to accommodate a dozen men. More guards are stationed
within the room as well as two crossbowmen. What he sees seated at
the table stops him in his tracks. At the head of the table sits a
warrior priest of Dmon-Li. To his right is an officer and to his
left a man in robes, obviously a mage. He can hear Jiron’s slight
intake of surprise when he, too, comes to realize what they are
facing.

Stiffening his backbone, James takes another
three steps into the tent before coming to a stop.

The warrior priest looks him up and down,
sizing him up. Completely encased in armor except for his helm
which sits on a stand behind him, the man makes an imposing sight.
Shoulder length black hair with dark, piercing eyes that seem to
bore to James’ very soul gives him a foreboding feel.

“We’ve met before,” the warrior priest
replies.

Surprised, James says, “I don’t think I’ve
had the pleasure.” This man doesn’t look like Abula-Mazki, but who
knows when you’re dealing with the gods.

“Almost had you outside of Kern, but was
balked by the commander of Cardri’s forces,” the warrior priest
replies. “Almost came to war, but we decided upon discretion at
that time.” After Saragon when he and Jiron were coming through
Mountainside, they were set upon by a warrior priest that hounded
them all the way into Cardri. This must be him.

The warrior priest’s intense gaze continues
to bore into James as he says, “You wished this meeting. Why?”

His confidence is somewhat dampened by the
knowledge of facing off against a warrior priest and he hesitates.
Suddenly what he came here to say sounds weak and stupid. “I came
here to tell you the time of the Empire’s occupation of Madoc is at
an end. Your forces must return back behind the original
border.”

The officer beside the warrior priest barks
out in cruel laughter. “Madoc is all but ours now,” he says. “We
are not about to simply hand it back.”

James glances to each of the three behind the
table as he considers how to get the heck out of there. He hadn’t
planned on a warrior priest, a mage maybe, but not one of those.
“You have until the sun rises to make up your minds,” he says,
stalling for time. He knows what they’ll say, he just needs this to
last until Delia and the others make it across the river.

Coming to his feet, the warrior priest says,
“You needn’t wait until the morning for our reply.” A sudden spike
in the tingling sensation and a blast of energy strikes the shield
as the warrior priest gives his reply.

The force of the blast bowls them over and
they’re flung from the tent. Still encased within the protective
shield, James and Jiron get to their feet as the warrior priest and
the mage emerge from the tent.

“Brace yourself,” James says as the tingling
spikes yet again.

A ball of flame flies toward them and strikes
the shield. Rather than being deflected, it settles upon the shield
and begins eating it away. The temperature inside is increasing
rapidly, James and Jiron begin perspiring. Nothing but flame can be
seen all around them. Whatever is transpiring on the other side of
the shield remains unknown.

James can tell the integrity of the shield
won’t last much longer under the flame’s attack. He says, “I’m
going to give you a crystal. Once you have it, step away from me
and say ‘Shield’. It will form a protective shield similar to mine
around you.” He opens one of the pouches and hands him a crystal
with a deep crimson glow. Before he gives it to him, he adds, “It
will only last about ten minutes, less if you are targeted
magically.”

Jiron takes the crystal and nods. Stepping
back, he says, “Shield!” and a shimmering shield springs up around
him.

Reaching into another pouch James removes
several other crystals, each glowing a deep crimson. Holding two in
each hand, he concentrates and then let’s the magic from each of
the crystals flow through him in one massive surge.

Whoom!

The shield surrounding them explodes outwards
in a gigantic explosion. Soldiers, tents, and everything else in
the vicinity gets lifted up and thrown backward several yards.
Those who were closest to the blast lie unmoving upon the
ground.

The warrior priest is knocked backward by the
unexpected blow, the mage fares even worse. The fiery mass coating
the outer side of the shield is blasted outward. The caustic mass
flies in every direction, striking men, tents, wagons, etc,
including the mage. When it hits, it begins burning and eating away
at the flesh. The mage cries out as his flesh is consumed by the
fiery mass and is soon lying on the ground, the remnants of his
body smoking.

Fires break out all over this section of the
camp wherever the fiery mass comes to land. Even the palisade is
burning, some of the hellish fire having been thrown that far.

James tosses the now shattered, empty
crystals to the ground as another shield springs up around him.
Going on the offensive, he lets loose the power…

Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!

…and the ground between him and the warrior
priest erupts, throwing dirt and dust into the air.

Once the warrior priest’s vision is obscured,
James pulls out two crystals and says, “Activate. Countdown
twenty.” Turning to Jiron he says, “Let’s get the hell out of
here!”

He tosses them to the ground behind them as
they turn to race back toward the palisade. Soldiers are already
moving to extinguish the fires burning there before they have a
chance to catch. They take no more than two steps when he again
feels the tingling sensation spike. “Dodge!” he yells.

Bolting to the right, James feels the sizzle
as another fireball shoots past right where they had been a moment
earlier. “Keep going,” he says to Jiron. “Whatever you do, don’t
look back!”

Just as the tingling sensation spikes again,
the countdown reaches zero.

Schtk! Boom!

A blinding white light blossoms behind them
and the force of the blast knocks them forward to the ground. Heat
and sound accompanies the wall of force and it feels as if their
being broiled alive but then it passes by.