Shades of the Past_ Book Six of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [57]
“Yes, sir,” Delia says and then takes her slingers over to another area where the slugs are stored and gives each their supply.
As they leave, James turns back to the tent and goes inside. Many sacks are still contained within, both magical and non. He removes a crystal from one of the sacks and places it on the floor just inside the entrance. Stepping back out of the tent, he says, “Shield.” A shimmering barrier springs up around the tent, effectively preventing anyone from gaining access to the items contained within. It will last half a day and unless the battle rages longer than that, they should be back in time to post a guard before it fails.
Satisfied, he turns toward where Devin is waiting with his horse. On Devin’s belt, he sees the pouch he gave him already secured there. Slung across his back is a pack, bulging at the bottom from the weight of the slugs Delia gave him.
Taking the reins, James mounts and turns to gaze over the assembled force. Illan’s Black Hawk Raiders all but fill the courtyard. Jiron and his fighters are close, as are Delia and her slingers. Errin and Aleya have been assigned to Hedry and his archers for the duration of the battle.
Miko rides forward and comes to a stop next to him.
“Stay close,” James tells him. Miko nods in reply.
Glancing at his companion since the beginning of this whole adventure, he can’t believe the changes he’s gone through. First, losing his youth to the Fire, and now his demeanor is changing yet again. The Star he carries appears to be mellowing him, he’s become more serious and confident. His playfulness resurfaces every now and then, but those occurrences are growing less frequent.
“Ready?” he asks Miko.
He gives James a grin and says, “Like you always say, ‘No, but I never will be for something like this.’”
James returns his grin and then nods to Illan.
“Move out!” Illan hollers and with James next to him, they leave the plaza. Just behind them comes the rider bearing the flag with the Black Hawk insignia. The sight of the flag gives the men a sense of pride and esprit de corps.
Word must have spread through the night despite their best attempts at secrecy that something was planned for this morning. The streets are lined with people, both soldiers and civilians. Cheers follow them as they progress toward the western gate.
They find the courtyard before the gate crammed with men, the walls are packed tightly with archers. Lord Pytherian stands in the only clear area among the sea of men. Next to him are five men, all five are dressed in matching brown jerkins and pants, each holding a wooden staff. Upon the breast of each is a symbol of a plant encircled by a ring of interwoven leaves superimposed over a gnarled staff.
“Priests of Asran,” Illan says.
James nods his head and remembers the slain priests they came across in Asran’s temple during their foray into Saragon. “Wonder what they are doing here?”
“We’ll soon see,” he says.
They bring their force to a stop before Lord Pytherian who gestures to the priest next to him. “Black Hawk, James, I’d like you to meet Brother Willim.”
The priest steps forward, nods and says, “Glad to make your acquaintance.”
“He and his brothers have come to join the fight against the Empire,” Lord Pytherian explains.
“Many of our brethren have died at the hands of the Empire,” Brother Willim states. “Asran has sent us to aid in whatever way we may.” He indicates his brothers and adds, “We are the Hand of Asran.”
Illan clears his throat and then says, “I thought the priests of Asran were nonviolent.”
“For the most part that is true,” replies Brother Willim. “I and the others you see here are part of an order that fights when necessary to preserve Asran’s name. Sometimes a weed must be pulled or a diseased branch removed.”
James grins at the symbology he uses in describing the Empire. Druids, that’s what they are. “We are more than happy to have those of Asran beside us this day,” he says.