Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [127]
All of a sudden, two of the buildings behind them blast apart, their stones raining down upon the men running in the street. Cries ring out as the stones crush the men. With great relief, Jiron sees the street behind them is now completely blocked by the rubble.
He looks over to James and sees perspiration beginning to form and course down his face. His breathing is coming in gasps and he’s leaning slightly in the saddle.
“James?” he asks but then stops when James shakes his head.
The wind suddenly begins blowing harder as it steadily increases in intensity. Jiron looks to the sky as clouds appear, moving toward them with unnatural speed from all directions. James begins to moan in pain but still he concentrates, directing the magic.
Having just witnessed the power James unleashed on the men now dead under the rubble, the soldiers waiting for them at the edge of town become restless. They become even more so when they see the clouds gathering in the sky above them. Several crossbow bolts fly in their direction, but the force of the wind knocks them awry. A man with a commanding presence, an officer by his bearing, stands there yelling at the nervous soldiers, attempting to bolster their courage.
Jiron looks on in absolute amazement as he watches a section of the clouds begin to descend a little ways down from the dark mass above. And then suddenly, with great speed, it slams into the waiting men below. Nothing can be heard but the roar of the tornado as it rips through the gathered men beneath it. Bodies are ejected from it, flying in all directions to land broken and lifeless. Those not directly under it are sucked into it until they too are eventually thrown out, falling lifeless to the ground.
A very few of the men that were gathered at the edge of town survived the initial plunge of the tornado. Thrown around by the wind, the rest flee for their very lives. Suddenly, a cry comes from James and the tornado splits in two, each half moving away from the center of the street in opposite directions.
Jiron glances back to James who is trying to say something but is having trouble being heard over the roar of the wind. Leaning closer, he’s able to make it out, “Now, go between them!” Trusting in James, he gets the horses moving quickly and they approach the towering funnels. The wind whips them mercilessly as he approaches the gap between the two.
The horses balk at going between the two towering tornadoes, but with whips and kicks, Jiron forces them through. “Hurry!” he barely hears James shout as they pass between the swirling masses of destruction. Kicking the horses harder, Jiron at last emerges from the other side, where it takes little encouragement to get the horses into a gallop.
Another cry escapes James before he passes into unconsciousness. Jiron looks back to the tornadoes and sees them melding back together into one large tornado that quickly dissipates. Seeing no imminent pursuit, he turns the horses southeast and races out into the desert.
“Please drop your weapons,” the Eye says to them.
Roland glares at the captain, feeling betrayed. The captain just returns his stare, his face devoid of any emotions.
The Eye raises his hand and the crossbowmen take aim as he repeats his command, “Drop your weapons, now!”
With little choice they remove their weapons and drop them to the ship’s deck.
“You’ve given us quite a chase,” he says to them. “Fortunately, that is now over.” Turning to the captain, the Eye says, “Have your men secure their hands behind them.”
The captain glances behind him to his men standing there, “You heard him boys.”
“Aye, captain,” one of them says as they start to move toward Roland and the rest.
As they pass through where the crossbowmen stand, they