The Unsuspecting Mage - Brian S. Pratt [134]
The rain steadily worsens, increasing until it’s a heavy downpour and reducing visibility to mere feet. It doesn’t take long before the ground begins showing signs of the bandits’ progress. The grass becomes increasingly trampled and the mud rain-soaked earth begins to show hoof prints. No longer needing his compass, James puts it away and concentrates on the trail before them.
“We must be gaining,” James says when they pull alongside him.
“Yes, I believe you are correct,” agrees Rylin. “How far behind do you think we are?”
“Not sure,” admits James. “Though I’ve never done any tracking before, I doubt if we are very far behind them.”
Not understanding Miko asks, “How do you know?”
Pointing to the trail they are following, James says, “The rain hasn’t had enough time to be able to remove the signs of their passing. Therefore, they can’t be too far ahead.”
“That makes sense,” Miko says looking at the signs of the bandits passing.
“If this rain continues as it is, we may end up riding right into them before we even know they are there,” says Rylin.
“That’s a chance we’ll have to take,” James says. A moment later, he comes to a stop and dismounts for a moment. Scanning the ground, he picks up several stones and places them in one of his pockets.
“What do you need those for?” Rylin asks.
“Ammunition,” answers James, grimly.
“Ammunition?” asks Rylin, “What’s that?”
“When we catch them,” James explains as he swings back into the saddle, “you’ll see.”
Mounted again, they once more set off after the bandits. Another hour passes and the rain continues its relentless downpour. The trail becomes clearer and more distinct now that they have narrowed the gap. Even with the torrential deluge, they have little trouble making it out.
Then, from out of the rain ahead comes a woman’s scream. “Sheila!” shouts Rylin. Kicking their horses into a gallop, they race forward hoping to arrive in time.
No sooner had James reached a full gallop, than indistinct shadows appear before him. Unable to stop in time, he rushes headlong into the bandits’ camp, knocking down two of them before even realizing they are there. As the two bandits hit the ground his horse slams into the side of a tent and the unexpected impact vaults him from the saddle. He hits the tent and it collapses beneath him.
“To arms! Intruders!” sounded the alarm.
James rolls and clears the side of the collapsing tent, gaining his feet. He looks around and sees men running toward him with swords drawn. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out the stones. With magic aiding aim and velocity, one of his missiles strikes the nearest attacker square in the chest. The bandit looks in startled surprise at the hole that appeared in his chest before collapsing to the ground, dead.
Three more men are bearing down on him so he turns and runs, keeping distance between them. He concentrates, then stops suddenly and spins quickly toward his pursuers, casting his flashing light spell. The brilliance of the flash causes them to pause for an instant, long enough for him to throw three more stones in quick succession, taking them out.
“To me!” he hears a commanding voice pierce the air. “To me!”
A clash of metal off to his right signals Rylin’s entry into the battle. Following the sound, he finds the caravan guard hard pressed battling two of the bandits. Using his last stone, he nails one of them in the side, dropping him to the ground. Rylin steps back a moment and glances over to see James, who is but a shadow in the rain. He acknowledges him with a nod and then continues the attack on the remaining bandit pressing him.
James moves in the direction from which the commanding voice had called out earlier. Darting around another tent, he spies a group of men heading toward him. One is covered in armor and wielding a long sword, obviously the leader. They are heading toward the sound of Rylin’s battle with the bandit.
He