Shades of the Past_ Book Six of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [44]
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