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The ground began to shake as the mage raises his hands and then the mountain caved in. Dust belched forth from the opening and when it cleared, there on the ground lay a man.

The mage and the civilians were next to him, the rest of the soldiers kept their distance. Clutched in the man’s hands was the source of the blinding light. In the light, they saw the man’s face contorted in some agony, maybe horror, later none could say for sure. An inarticulate cry began to emerge from him as the mage and the other two backed away.

The skin of the man began turning dark and his cries became more feral, less human. Spreading from where his hands gripped the object, the darkness spread quickly. Soon the man’s skin where it began had turned black as coal. The man’s cry was cut off when the black spread up his neck. By the time it covered his entire face, the man had stopped moving and lay frozen.

The light from what he clutched in his hands finally diminished completely and the only light left was that coming from the lanterns. The mage glanced to the others for a moment and then picked up a stick. Moving forward, he quickly struck the object and it broke free, as well as the man’s hands. They simply broke off at the wrists.

As the gem-like object hit the ground, the man began to crumble in on himself. After a couple minutes, only a pile of dark, fine dust was left. The mage picked up the gem with a cloth and put it into one of his belt pouches. Then they began moving out of there.

Qyrll glances to James as he says, “They discovered we were following them and laid a trap hoping to slow us down. The others are moving with all speed to reach the Empire.”

The horror of Dave’s fate is almost too much for him to believe. His best friend, life long companion. Good times, bad times, Dave had always been there for him.

The Empire! Anger, the likes of which he’s never experienced before erupts. The Empire took his friend, tortured him and in the end twisted him to their own ends. The Empire!

Looking down at the soldier at their feet, he says with barely controlled rage, “Kill him.”

Fifer looks to James who yells, “I said kill him!” He then glances to Jiron who nods. Striking out with his sword, he ends the life of the soldier.

Turning around abruptly, James goes to where Jiron is holding his horse and mounts. The others quickly get on their horses and then he takes off as fast as the terrain will allow him. When they pass by the horses left by dead soldiers, they pause momentarily while Fifer and Qyrll gather them and bring them along. Extra mounts will enable them to cover more ground quickly as they’ll be able to trade off from one to another.

James sits impatiently while the horses are being tied in a line and then once they’re ready, again bolts away down the trail. He doesn’t get too far before Qyrll comes to the fore. “Let me take the lead,” he says.

With a glare of irritation, James acquiesces and allows Qyrll to once more lead the way. After all, he knows the way back better than the rest. Also, he picked up on the ambush back there before any of the others.

They ride hard throughout the rest of the day, only pausing once in a while for the call of nature and to swap horses. Jorry has to help Uther down off of his and onto another when the time to change mounts comes. When he does, he takes notice of a growing red stain that’s gradually spreading from the point of entry. “You okay man?” he asks, worried. His friend’s face is pale and drawn.

Getting up onto the fresh mount, Uther grunts and then says, “You worry too much.”

“Be right back,” Jorry tells his friend and after receiving a nod, walks over to where James is finishing cinching the saddle on his spare mount. “Uther’s not doing too good,” he says.

Glancing back, he sees Uther in the saddle sitting quiet and still, which isn’t like him. “Anything we can do for him?” he asks.

“I don’t think so,” Jorry replies. “All this riding is hard on his wound. It isn’t going to heal.”