• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“He’s awake,” he hears a female voice say, “get Illan.”

A hand touches his chest and gives a little shake. “Miko,” he hears the voice say again and then realizes that it’s Delia who is talking to him.

“Water,” he croaks. A moment later his head is raised slightly and the neck of a water flask is put to his lips. He takes several small swallows before the water flask is taken away.

“Miko,” Delia says again. “James needs you.”

Coming fuller awake, he shades his eyes and then opens them a crack. The pain knifes into him again as he’s helped to a sitting position. Looking around, he sees James lying next to him.

With fingers trembling from fatigue he picks up the Star from off his lap, then with Delia’s help he scoots over to where James is lying. Head swimming and spots appearing before his eyes, he tries to concentrate and bring forth the magic of the Star. The trembling in the hand holding the Star increases as what little strength he’s recovered leaves him. Suddenly, the Star falls from his fingers and only the quick reflexes of Jiron prevents it from falling upon James’ chest. Swooning, Miko collapses.

“Damn!” curses Illan.

“At least the fire seems to be letting up,” offers Shorty.

Looking up at the barrier’s apex, Illan finds the fire has continued to subside even further. “That is something,” he admits. Looking down at James, Illan hopes he comes out of it soon.

In no time at all, the fire upon the barrier has completely subsided. When no more flames are touching the barrier, it winks out. Cool desert air washes over them despite the fact it’s the middle of the afternoon. After being in the sweltering heat contained within the barrier, even the hot summer air feels cool.

Looking around, they see an area of devastation beginning where the barrier had ended. Flat and grey, the ground looks to have been burnt clean by the blast, there are still pockets of fire scattered here and there. Of the enemy soldiers caught outside the barrier there’s no sign, not even bones.

“Get the wounded in the wagons,” Illan says as he begins barking out orders. “We still have a ways to go before we reach the safety of Madoc.” He pauses a moment and waves Jiron over to him. “See that James and Miko are put in the same wagon,” he tells him. “And post a guard.”

Jiron nods and goes to see that it’s done.

Potbelly is put into one of the wagons, his wound healed by the brothers. Alive and cranky he gives his friend Scar no end of trouble as he works to get him into a wagon. Jiron grins, if he’s got strength enough to complain, he’s likely going to make it.

It takes them an hour to be ready to roll. A couple of the wounded that the brothers said were beyond even their skill had to be put out of their misery. Brother Willim sits on the wagon carrying James and Miko as they get underway.

Illan takes the lead when they leave the untouched area where they were sheltered from the blast. His horse’s hooves kick up the grey dust which soon clings to everything. They travel for an hour before the ground shows any sign of improvement. From there it gradually returns to its former state. By the time they leave the grey area behind them, everyone is coated with the grey dust. Looking back at the column behind him, Illan can’t help but think they look like ghosts passing through the desert.

When night falls, they keep going. None wish to remain any longer in the Empire than they have to, especially seeing as how close they are to Madoc. During the night, Miko stirs a couple times and by morning he awakens completely. James on the other hand continues as he has been, feverish and bothered by tremors every once in a while.

Sitting up in the bed of the wagon, he looks around in the predawn light. Not entirely sure what’s going on, he sees Brother Willim sitting on the seat next to the driver.

“Where are we?” he asks.

Turning to him, Brother Willim says, “A long way from where the battle was fought.”

“We won?” he asks.

Grinning, he replies, “Yes we won. How do you feel?