Trail of the Gods_ The Morcyth Saga Book Four - Brian S. Pratt [110]
The soldiers on the other side come to a startled stop as debris begins raining down upon them. Jiron watches as a dead, mangled horse falls and crushes two soldiers who hadn’t moved quickly enough.
“That should do it,” he says to James.
Looking tired, James replies, “I hope so.”
Getting their horse back up to speed, they follow the road as they leave the town and the broken bridge behind them.
Two men stand before the large basin of dark water. An image plays across its surface, a ruined bridge and two men on horseback riding away. One man is armored head to toe with a large sword hanging at his hip. Cruel eyes gaze from within the dark helm, rage practically oozing from every pore of his being.
The other man next to him wears a red robe, the hooded cowl hiding his features. He can feel the rage of the man next to him and prays that it will not be directed at him.
Suddenly, the door to the room where they stand before the basin opens and one of the armored man’s acolytes enters.
“Prepare the army,” the helmed man says.
“Yes milord,” the acolyte replies before leaving and closing the door behind him.
“Are you sure that’s him?” the voice from within the helm says.
“Yes, milord,” replies the cowled man. “His magic is singularly unique. We’ve never been able to ascertain why.”
The mage. The bearer of the Star! The one who defeated Abula-Mazki! One who seems to travel at will within the Empire, yet none can stop him. Hate and anger radiate from the armored man with a palpable force as he gazes at the figure riding away from the ruined bridge.
As he turns to leave the room, he says, “Keep me informed of his progress.”
“Yes, milord,” replies the cowled man. Turning back to the basin, he continues to watch the two riders.
Leaving the room, the man in armor sees the commander of his army waiting for him. “Send riders to Kirak and Zuri. Tell them the mage has just destroyed the bridge at Cerinet and may be coming their way. They’re to stop him from reaching Cardri at all costs.”
“Yes milord,” the commander says. He turns to go and carry out his Lord’s order.
Watching the commander leave, the man in armor looks out over the preparations the host before him makes for getting underway. With a vow to his dark god, the man moves to take charge of the army and destroy this harbinger of doom. He must not reach Cardri!
Two hours after leaving the bridge, they still haven’t seen any sign of enemy patrols. They left the road an hour ago, angling more toward the mountains in the hopes of finding better cover in which to hide. They’ll have to follow the mountains around to the south in the hopes of finding a viable way across.
To the north is Pleasant Meadows which holds an army that may or may not be on the way. To the east is more enemy territory, plus it brings them further away from Cardri and home. The last time they tried to get across the Silver Mountains in this area, they were fleeing from a forest fire which James had inadvertently started while battling forces pursuing them from the town of Mountainside. They had stumbled across a rope suspension bridge which spanned a deep gorge and barely made it across before the inferno behind them consumed it. With the collapsing of the bridge, that way is no longer viable.
Over the Silver Mountains to the west lies a giant cloud, smoke from the fires still raging to the north. When they draw close enough to be able to see the devastation the passing of the fire had wrought they realize the shelter they hoped to gain from the forest upon the mountains is no longer possible. The trees are burnt husks, a forest of black spires reaching to the sky.
“Since the fire’s moving north, the trees to the south of Mountainside may still be untouched,” states Jiron.
“Perhaps,” agrees James. “I’m just hoping another garrison hasn’t been sent there yet. Could make things more interesting than I would want.”
“We’ll see,” he replies.
They come to the road running alongside the mountains as it winds its way through the gently rolling hills at