The Star of Morcyth_ Book Five of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [120]
When James groaned, Jiron’s heart sank as the man turned to look at him there ready to pounce. Moving quickly, he grabs the chair the mage had used and barely blocks the strike of the soldier. Chips fly as the blade hacks out a section of a leg.
Not giving the man a chance for a second swing. Jiron immediately closes with him, pushing the chair toward him and running him into the side of the tent. The resulting impact brings the tent down and the man’s sword becomes entangled in the loose folds of the collapsing tent.
Jiron quickly grabs the soldier’s swordarm and rams his knee into the man’s middle. The soldier’s other fist lashes out and catches Jiron across the jaw but has little effect as he didn’t have leverage to put much power behind it.
His knee comes up and catches the soldier in the groin causing him to freeze immobile for a brief moment, which allows Jiron to elbow him across the throat, smashing his windpipe. The man begins gagging in a vain attempt to breathe but his compacted windpipe starts to swell from the blow and he soon passes out from lack of oxygen.
Taking the man’s sword, Jiron crawls through the collapsed tent until he reaches James. “James!” he whispers urgently. “Wake up!” His eyes flutter open and he mumbles something incoherently. Whatever they had given him still keeps him from functioning properly.
“Damn!” he curses as he turns onto his back and thrusts the sword upward through the tent material. Sawing with the sword, he quickly cuts a three foot slit and pokes his head out to see how the battle’s going on outside.
The men from Madoc have the numbers but the Empire’s mage is taking them out readily enough. Arrows fly toward the mage but none reach their mark, he has a barrier surrounding him similar to the one James utilizes. So far no one has taken any notice of the collapsing of the tent, so intent are they on the attackers.
Jiron uses his hands and widens the gap further and slips outside. Reaching back in, he uncovers James and then looks around for an escape route. Over by the main tent are several horses, fortunately still saddled. The Empire’s forces are over to the far side where the attackers from Madoc are mostly concentrated.
Hoping that his mistreated muscles will bear the weight he reaches down, lifts James over his shoulder and begins carrying him toward the horses. The sound of swords clashing and the cries of men caught within terrible magic resound throughout the clearing.
The gloom of twilight lends an eerie feel to the proceedings but gives Jiron the shelter he needs to remain unobserved as he crosses over to the awaiting horses. Once he’s reached them, he puts James over one and begins to secure him on.
“Jiron,” he hears him say as he’s tying his hands and feet together with a rope looped under the belly of the horse.
Moving to where his head hangs, he hears James ask, “What happened?”
“Captured by Empire soldiers,” he replies. “They took all our stuff and we’re getting out of here.”
“My crystals?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” he says as he cinches the last knot tight. Jerking his head toward the main tent they’re next to he adds, “Maybe in there. Do you need them?”
Shaking his head, he says, “As we leave, take me closer.”
Mounting the horse next to him he asks, “Why?”
“Just do it,” he says.
“Alright but we don’t have much time to waste,” Jiron tells him. Looking around, he can tell the battle is going badly for the men from Madoc. The Empire’s mage has all but wiped them out.
“Don’t need much,” he says.
As he takes the reins of James’ horse in hand, a cry arises nearby and he looks to see one of the Empire’s soldiers pointing in their direction and shouting. The mage turns and sees them on the horses, then pain suddenly erupts in Jiron’s middle and he almost falls off the horse. Bringing them close to the tent he says through the pain, “We’re here.”
In a voice cracking, speech slightly blurred, he says as loud as