Breathing hard from the fight, he makes his way back to where James is lying. Sitting down next to him, he rests his head on his knees. Glancing to his friend he wonders just how long he’ll be out this time.
He closes his eyes for just a moment before a nearby noise brings him suddenly alert. Opening his eyes, he turns to find a man in robes approaching and a dozen soldiers of the Empire behind him. Three have crossbows leveled at him.
“That was quite impressive,” the Empire’s mage tells him as he continues to draw near. “Don’t know how you defeated the Guardian’s set against you.” Glancing to James lying comatose on the ground beside him, the mage turns to the soldiers and says, “Take them.”
Unable to do anything with the crossbowmen there, he does nothing as they tie his arms behind his back.
Chapter Twenty Two
After they tie him securely, he’s put into the back of a nearby wagon along with the comatose James. The mage takes a seat in the front of the wagon with one of the soldiers next to him taking the reins. One soldier and crossbowman climb into the back of the wagon with their prisoners, the others mount awaiting horses. Then the soldier driving the wagon flicks the reins and the wagon begins rolling. Moving onto the road, they head down it toward the Madoc side.
Sitting in the back of the wagon as it rolls along, bumps making his position decidedly uncomfortable, Jiron keeps an eye on James. Other than the predicament they’re in, he seems okay. The soldiers and mage are silent as they roll along which suits him just fine. He tries to work the knot of his bonds loose but the soldier in the back with him notices and shakes his head. Seeing the implied threat in the man’s eyes, he stops.
They roll for another several hours before turning off the road. They follow a path which is little more than a game trail for another twenty minutes before arriving at a clearing where a camp has already been set up.
More soldiers are there as well as many slaves. How they managed to get all this here without being detected is something Jiron isn’t likely to find out anytime soon. Several tents dot the clearing as well as three other wagons. As they roll to a stop the mage gets down and says something to one of the soldiers before disappearing inside the largest tent which sits in the center of the clearing.
The soldier comes over to the side of the wagon and says to Jiron, “Come on down.”
Doing the best he can with his wrists tied behind him, he rises in the back of the wagon. Putting one foot on the edge he hops over to the ground below. The soldier and crossbowman in the back pick up James.
“This way,” the soldier says as he turns and leads him over to another smaller tent to the side. The two carrying James follow.
The other people in the camp pause in what they’re doing to stare at the new arrivals. Whispered mutterings can be heard throughout the clearing. As they approach the tent, one soldier holds open the flap as he and James are put inside. Then they proceed to remove all their items but the clothes on their backs.
Shortly after that a civilian and a slave enter and come over to where James is lying on the ground. The man is holding a vial in his hand and with the slave’s help, pours the contents into his mouth. After waiting several minutes to make sure it was swallowed, he and the slave leave.
Aside from a guard posted outside, they’re left pretty much alone. Jiron works at his bindings and finally gets them undone. He doesn’t bother trying to awaken James, he realizes that aside from the fact he probably wouldn’t wake up anyway, having again overextended himself with magic, he’s likely drugged as well.
Moving close to his friend, he checks to make sure he’s still breathing and otherwise okay. Then he sits back and waits for whatever their captors plan to do next. He has a pretty good idea of the layout of the camp and sits near the edge of the tent in order to attempt to keep track of what’s going on outside.
Not more than a half hour goes by before footsteps are heard approaching the tent. The flap is pulled aside and the mage enters followed by two soldiers. Once inside, the tent flap is again allowed to close.
The mage glances from the unconscious James to Jiron and notices he’s managed to remove his bindings. One soldier pulls his sword to keep Jiron at bay while the mage approaches James.
“Don’t touch him!” warns Jiron.
The soldier with the drawn sword comes forward and strikes him across the face with his other hand. “Impertinent dog!” he says derisively.
Kneeling down near James’ head, the mage lifts one eyelid and examines his eye for a moment before closing it. Returning to his feet, he glances again to James. “So, this is the mage causing the Empire so much trouble,” he says. He looks to Jiron as if for confirmation but Jiron remains silent.
“Doesn’t seem like much,” he continues, “but you two did defeat two of the Guardians.” He stands there, gaze boring into Jiron for a moment. “Now,” he finally continues, “tell me where the Fire lies?”
“Fire?” questions Jiron. “What’s that?”
A dark expression comes over the mage as he says, “Don’t take me for a fool, you know what it is. You and he have been together almost from the beginning.”
The beginning of what? Jiron questions to himself silently. He remains quiet and defiant.
“Tell me what I want to know!” he demands with more of an edge to his voice. When Jiron is again uncooperative, he raises his hand and pain flares throughout Jiron’s body.
Back arching and muscles contracting painfully, he clenches his teeth together and fights the urge to cry out. He doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction.
As quickly as the pain began it quits. “Now, my patience is beginning to wear thin,” the mage tells him. “Tell me where it is!”
Jiron raises his head and gazes into the mage’s eyes. Sweat beads his forehead and his breath is a little ragged from the excruciating pain he just endured. Giving no indication of compliance, he stares defiantly at the mage.
Raising his hand again, the mage causes pain to once more erupt along every nerve in his body. His muscles again contract painfully, almost to the point where they’ll begin breaking the bones they’re attached to.
Try as he might, he can’t keep a small gasp of pain from escaping. After what seems like an eternity, the pain stops and he flops back to the floor, eyes closed and breath coming in ragged gasps.
“This will only get worse if you do not tell me,” warns the mage. “And let me assure you, we have as long as it takes.” He then says something to one of the soldiers in their language. The soldier promptly leaves the tent and returns shortly with a chair for the mage. Taking his seat, he gazes down at Jiron who has managed to regain some of his composure. “Shall we begin again?” he asks.
Jiron just spits at him, the spittle managing to land on the hem of his robes.
The soldier closest to him strikes him across the face and begins yelling at him in their language.
“Enough,” the mage says and the soldier stops his tirade. Looking back to the mage, he sees him motioning for the soldier to move away from Jiron, which he does.
Holding his arm out, the pain once again flares along Jiron’s already flayed nerve endings. Back arching almost to the point of snapping his spine, he gnashes his jaws together to prevent the cry of pain from being torn from him.
“Tell me,” the mage says softly. “Tell me where the Fire is hidden and this will all end.”
Through an almost insurmountable obstacle of pain, Jiron cries out, “Never!”
Unrelenting, the mage sends wave after wave of pain through Jiron’s nervous system, each worse than the one before. Suddenly, one of the guards standing near the mage bumps into the mage and breaks his concentration ending the spell.