The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [237]
“You said he’s going to pass through anyway,” he yells back. “We failed.”
Shaking his head, James says, “If the gate is no longer here, he won’t be able to pass through.”
“You mean…?” he asks.
James nods and says, “I’m going to destroy it.” When Jiron hesitates, he says, “I can’t hold this for long.” Reaching into his pouch, he removes the medallion with the warrior priest symbol and tosses it to Brother Willim. “You don’t have much time.”
Brother Willim snatches the medallion and puts it in an inner pocket of his robe. He nods and with he and Tinok leaning on one another, head for the stairs.
Jiron remains motionless as he stares at James.
James meets his eyes and says, “It’s been fun.”
A tear runs down the face of the battle hardened pit fighter.
“Go,” urges James then turns his attention back to the gate.
“Come on Jiron!” Tinok hollers from the stairs.
With the unconscious body of the High Priest of Morcyth in his arms, he hurries after the other two. Moving to the stairs, he begins climbing up. He only pauses a moment when he reaches the point where the stairs leave the cavern. Looking down at his friend, he sees the light from the Star still shining forth. Completely surrounding James is a ring of shadows, not nearly as far back as they had been. “Goodbye James,” he says then continues up the stairs.
“Jiron?”
Stig comes over to where Aleya is lying on the bed. Her eyes are open and she sits up abruptly when she realizes that Stig, Shorty, Reilin and Aku are the only ones in the room.
“What happened?” she asks. When the others fail to answer, she understands. “No!” she cries. Rising from the bed, she starts to head for the door.
Stig steps in front of her and says, “It’s too late. They’re already in the temple.”
From where he stands looking out the window, Shorty says, “The whole temple area is swarming with guards and soldiers.”
Aleya rushes over and looks out across the dark city. Unable to see the temple well from here, she turns to them. “How could you let them go in there alone?” she demands. They can barely meet her accusing eyes let alone answer. “How could he do this to me?” The last question is more to herself than anything else.
Gazing for a moment over to where the temple sits, she then puts her face in her hands and begins to sob. The others in the room glance to each other, none knowing what to do.
Aku gets up from his position in the corner and comes to her. He slips his hand into hers and together they stand there, with only the sound of her sobbing disturbing the silence.
“How many are there?” Potbelly asks. Deflecting a sword stroke with his knife, he follows through with his sword and guts the guard before him.
“I don’t know,” replies Scar. Both of his blades are red with blood from the bodies that litter the hallway from where they stand at the top of the stairs, all the way back to where they first crossed swords.
Ever since the others had left, they’ve held the corridor. Both now sport numerous wounds and have been forced to give ground until they now stand at the top of the stairs. Unwilling to give any more, they decided to make their stand here.
“Wonder if they made it,” Potbelly says as he lashes out with his knife. The man he struck dodges back momentarily when a six inch long cut opens up on lower abdomen,
“Doubt if we’ll ever know,” Scar replies, then he feints with the sword in his left hand. When the temple guard raises his sword to block, he runs him through with his other.
Standing side by side, the two comrades trade blows with all who come. Only rarely do their opponents manage to get through their guard. The skill Scar and Potbelly are facing is woefully below what they’re used to facing in the pits.
“We could always surrender,” suggests Potbelly.
“I’d rather eat bloodworms for breakfast,” replies Scar. “Besides,” he begins then has to pause as his opponent’s sword lunges forward in an attempt to skewer him through the middle.