Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li - Brian Pratt [196]
“Very well, priest,” he says. “I agree.”
“Give us a few minutes to prepare, and our champion will return here to this spot,” James says.
“You have ten minutes, no more,” he warns him.
Nodding, James replies, “That is agreeable.”
Both parties turn around and return to the others waiting for them.
When James, Illan and Jiron arrive, Uther says, “I know how they knew to be here.”
Every eye turns to him as James asks, “How?”
Gesturing to the group of riders in the pass, he says, “If you look, you’ll see the man who was outside our door just before we left.”
They all turn and sure enough, the man who they’d chased out from in front of their door back at the inn in Seastar is among them. “Damn!” Illan exclaims. “I thought he was working for Councilman Rillian.”
“So did we all,” Jiron adds.
“Maybe he was,” Yern suggests. “What he’d heard could’ve been relayed from Councilman Rillian to them.”
“True,” agrees Illan. “They must’ve almost killed their horses to get here so fast.”
“So what happened?” Fifer asks.
James fills them in on what was said and the deal he’d made. At hearing that, Jiron says, “James, there’s no way I can win a fight with my shoulder the way it is.”
“Besides,” Illan says, “there’s only one person he’s going to select as champion, and that will be himself. The warrior priests are terrible foes, I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of one being beaten by another living mortal. Who among us could even hope of defeating a warrior priest of Dmon-Li?”
He glances around at the faces looking to him until he settles on one, “Another warrior priest of Dmon-Li.”
Staring back into James’ eyes, Miko takes a sudden intake of breath. “What? Are you crazy?” He glances around at the others assembled there and says, “I’m no warrior, let alone a match for someone like Abula-Mazki.”
Illan glances from Miko, to James, then back to Miko. His head begins to nod slowly as he says, “Perhaps.”
Miko turns his attention to Illan as he says, “You can’t be serious!”
“I’ve seen you fight,” he tells him. He gestures at the rest of those gathered there before continuing, “None of us can even hope to match what you do. You’re the only choice.”
“James,” Jiron says to him. “We can’t take that chance, not with…”
“I know,” he replies. “But that’s just what I’m counting on. With it, Miko has a chance to beat him.”
The others look confused, not understanding what they’re talking about. James turns to Hinney and says, “Give your armor to Miko. I think you’re about the same size.” As he begins removing his armor, James comes over to Miko and says, “You can do this. There really is no one else.”
Miko’s eyes show the fear and doubt that he’s feeling inside. James leans closer and whispers so only he will hear, “The Fire will aid you. It already has in every battle you’ve fought.”
Coming back to look him in the eye, he says, “I believe you can do it.”
“But, what if I lose myself for good?” he asks. “It’s been harder each time to come back out of it.”
“I won’t let that happen,” James assures him. “I promise.”
Jorry and Uther come over and begin to help him in putting on Hinney’s armor. “Let me have your sword,” James says.
“What’re you going to do?” Miko asks as he hands it over to him. A pile begins to form at his feet from all the excess equipment they are removing from him in order to make room for the armor. The only pouch he retains is the one containing the Fire.
“Make it stronger, better able to withstand whatever he may do,” he replies. He holds the sword out before him and begins concentrating as he readies the magic. Hoping he remembers enough from the shows on television he’d seen about metallurgy and sword making, he lets the magic begin to flow as he works on removing the impurities and strengthening the iron into steel.
He stands there for five minutes as he works on the sword. When he at last feels it’s complete, he stops the spell and hands the sword to Illan. “Tell me what you think.”
Taking the sword, he tests it for balance and weight, all the while nodding his head approvingly. Then he checks the edge