“Elroy, this one here’s leg’s been lamed by the fall,” called out one of the surrounding men, inspecting their bounty.
The bandit approaching Nightshade turned to the man standing over Letis’s new horse, “Well put the poor creature out of its misery then. You know we can’t tend a wounded animal.” The man, Elroy, looked around. “Come on boys, you know the routine. Don’t get soft just ‘cause the boss isn’t around.” He pointed at the two grounded men with upturned palms.
Dakkon felt the weight of an indifferent boot on his spine. Letis’s mount let out a desperate whimper as a crude iron blade robbed it of any chance to mend. The sight and sound of the horse’s demise was too much for Letis who, only somewhat recovered from his sudden collapse, sprang forward and bolted for the tree line. Seven bolts from eight eager crossbows found him, and he dropped to a motionless state then faded away.
“Bah, they’re that sort,” said the bandit who had missed.
“Don’t kill the other one,” Elroy, who appeared to be in charge, said while he moved towards Nightshade with an outstretched hand intended to soothe. Everything had transpired so quickly. Dakkon had gone from a triumphant ride with a new partner in crime—the first and perhaps last of that distinction in a literal sense—to laying on the ground, wounded, with a foot on his back as he waited to be divested of his prize horse and saddle.
Dakkon considered his options. There was no chance he could escape on foot. He’d have to get to Nightshade somehow, but what could he do? He racked his brain in a vain attempt to come up with something clever. He couldn’t exactly cool them all down. Maybe he could condense a Hotspot on Nightshade’s rump—like a smoldering ember—to get the horse to kick out backward—but no one was standing there, and even if it worked they might just decide it wasn’t worth getting kicked, shoot Nightshade, and simply loot the saddle. “Damn it!” thought Dakkon. “What can I do?”
“Elroy,” a bandit called to the surrogate leader. “More are coming.” The bandits turned their attention westward and didn’t stir otherwise as a huge man trudged towards them, moving at a respectable pace due to the size of his massive legs. The giant individual held, in each hand, separate wooden shafts which served as handles to pull an oversized flat-topped rickshaw, plush with royal blue cushions and a woman sitting atop them. The sight of their steady approach gave the bandits pause until, when the two were about 20 meters away, and showing no signs of pause or concern, Elroy stepped toward them tentatively. The woman, who had been reading by the looks of things, refocused her eyes on the world around her and scanned the scene appraisingly. For a brief instant, her eyes locked with Dakkon’s and then, at last, settled upon Elroy.
The bandit began to speak, “Now where do you think you’re—” but was cut off when the woman raised a finger as though silencing him. Then, from the tip of her finger, there formed a small sphere of glowing red-orange. The sphere spun, at first so slowly that it was difficult to notice, but then it sped up to a fervent pace. Then, all of a sudden, the sphere turned a radiant blue-white and grew to the size of a horse.
“Now hold on there miss, I’m sure—” began Elroy, but he was cut short by the woman who flicked her finger forward, sending the sphere of flame flying toward Elroy at frightening speed.
When the ball of fire arrived, consuming the space where Elroy stood, there was no great explosion and no cry of pain, there was only the fireball. It came to full stop, as though it had never been in motion. It began to spin faster and faster as the woman, still seated, looked to the remaining bandits who immediately scattered; but far too slowly. With a flick of her wrist and turn of her finger, the flaming sphere engulfed them one-by-one with eradicating heat.
The woman gave a wan smile, looked back down to her lap, and resumed her reading as the fireball slowed, turned to orange, then faded away. The cart never stopped moving, and the large man walked by with a small nod toward Dakkon.
Dakkon was in a state of shock. What exactly did he just witness? What kind of power allowed for that nonsense? Dakkon looked around. He found his horse, Nightshade, but was unable to lead him in the direction of the traveling pair. Nightshade was afraid. He didn’t run away, thank the gods, but he would not approach that woman, no doubt.
Dakkon quickly tied Nightshade’s reins to a nearby tree and ran to catch up to the two. “Thank you!” he exclaimed. The giant man nodded, and the girl’s eyes refocused, but the pair did not stop. Dakkon hurried alongside to speak with them.
“You’re amazing,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”
The woman looked pleased, but somehow annoyed.
“You’re like some kind of fire god,” said Dakkon.
The woman reddened a bit at the praise, and the giant man chuckled. It seemed like the woman was unaccustomed to, or disapproving of, flattery, but Dakkon had information he needed right in front of him and pressed on.
“Where can I learn magic like that?” Dakkon asked her.
“You can’t,” she replied, steadily. “Aren’t you forgetting your horse?” she asked as she turned back to continue what she had been doing before, finalizing the conversation.
“Damn. She’s right,” thought Dakkon. “I’ve got to get Nightshade and take off before more bandits show up.”
Dakkon doubled-back to his horse, untied it, and inspected it for any serious damage, but remarkably there were only scratches, dirt, and certain bruises as reminders of the fast-paced face plant. Dakkon attempted to scavenge from the bandits’ remains, but there was only crude metal and a single tattered shoe, so he left them there as a love letter to the next bandits who would arrive on the scene.
Dakkon hopped onto a calmed down Nightshade, and set off in the direction of Tian. From his friends window, he checked on Letis—who was now offline—and left a simple message. “I escaped. Sorry. Keep the money, I still have your two plat anyway.”
Immediately after sending the message, Dakkon realized how insincere it seemed. He should have waited to send a better one, but at that moment all he could think of was that woman directing the obscenely powerful blue orb. Thermomancy definitely wasn’t going to cut it.
C
HAPTER 17:
B
OARS
A
PLENTY
As Dakkon neared Tian at a pace which he hoped would be easy for his recently battered horse, he passed by several small shrines, each only a few meters into the woods from the main road way. Each stone shrine appeared ancient, but all were well maintained. Had the ropes that hung around the shrines been originals from the time of construction, then they surely would have fallen to the elements long ago, yet these cords appeared to be sturdy and supple. Upon closer inspection of one such shrine—which was practically on the road—Dakkon found what he suspected to be little offerings of burnt incense, assorted nuts, and little wooden animal figurines—and oddly, all were squirrels. Strange shrines, however, were but the first of Tian’s eccentricities that Dakkon would discover.
Stretching along outside the large, sturdy walls of Tian, for as far as Dakkon could see, the city was surrounded by hundreds of little stone posts. Each post stood about the height of an average man with some irregularity, and the top fourth was carved by unsigned artisans to portray an animal. The carvings were of widely varied skill, though newer pillars, relatively speaking, were of a finer make than some of earlier design. The creatures Dakkon could see without wandering off course appeared to be common field animals such as a deer, a rabbit, and a squirrel. Aside from traditional, though unevenly-spaced, decoration he had no clue what the totems might be for, but in a world of casting spells, he assumed the archaic could not be so easily discounted. “Possibly some sort of magic-based city defense?” he supposed.