Getting up onto the fresh mount, Uther grunts and then says, “You worry too much.”
“Be right back,” Jorry tells his friend and after receiving a nod, walks over to where James is finishing cinching the saddle on his spare mount. “Uther’s not doing too good,” he says.
Glancing back, he sees Uther in the saddle sitting quiet and still, which isn’t like him. “Anything we can do for him?” he asks.
“I don’t think so,” Jorry replies. “All this riding is hard on his wound. It isn’t going to heal.”
“Might be a good idea if you two take it slower,” he says.
“But you’ll need us,” insists Jorry.
“One more sword won’t make any difference,” he explains. “Besides, Uther couldn’t defend himself now even if his life depended on it. And in a little bit, it may. You two follow along behind as best you can and then head back to The Ranch.”
Glancing back to his friend who’s sitting askew in the saddle, he says, “I hate leaving you.”
“I know,” James says in understanding. “But at times, circumstances dictate for us to do that which we don’t want to.”
“You be careful,” Jorry tells him.
“We will,” he assures him. “You just take care of him.”
Jorry nods then returns to the side of his friend.
Once Qyrll has assisted Jiron in mounting another horse, they all mount and get going. When the others notice Jorry and Uther not moving to keep up with them, James explains the situation.
Making good time, they reach the shore of the large lake. The sun is almost down but no one even thinks about stopping. It’s going to be another clear night and they would rather travel slow than possibly allow the soldiers to get any further ahead of them. But they’ve all been up for over twenty four hours now as it is.
James calls for a brief rest so they can all get a little sleep. Catching them quickly will do them little good if they’re all so tired they can’t take them on effectively. They don’t stay very long, merely five hours or so before they’re off again.
Another couple hours finds them approaching the first river they encountered after leaving the mine area on their way to the ruins. Qyrll takes them upriver until they reach the ford then crosses over. On the far side, he stops and gets off his horse.
The others come toward him as he bends over and examines a pile of horse manure. Standing up, he says, “Looks like they camped here last night. Might not be more than a couple hours behind them.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Fifer says as Qyrll gets back in the saddle.
Turning his horse to head downriver, Qyrll leads them on.
As he follows behind Qyrll, James continues to ruminate about Dave, their life together and the tragic end of it all. His anger, which at first had burned like a white hot sun, has cooled a little and he can approach this in a more rational manner.
Last night he was all for razing the entire Empire to the ground, destroying all its cities and citizens. But now his need for vengeance is more directed against the ones responsible for this, the leaders behind the Empire. He feels slightly ashamed of himself for wishing harm on the innocents; the women, children, those who are not part of the war machine.
Once they return to the lake, the going becomes steadily easier and they’re able to increase their speed. The foothills afford much more gradual terrain than the hilly, forested region they just came from.
“The mine we passed on our way out is just ahead,” Qyrll announces after the lake is an hour behind them.
“Good,” says James. “If the mine is just ahead then we’ll be on roads from this point and may have a chance of catching up with them.”
It isn’t long after that when through the hills ahead of them the road leading from the mine to Ironhold appears. Qyrll moves onto the road and then breaks into a gallop as he turns in the direction Ironhold lies. The others follow suit.
Riding hard it takes a little over an hour before they crest a hill and Ironhold appears below. “There they are!” Miko cries out.
Just entering the town are over two dozen riders, and they’re riding hard.
“Heya!” James says as he kicks his horse and races down toward the town.
“James!” Jiron cries out as the rest gallop to keep up with him.
Not heeding Jiron’s cry, James races at breakneck speed down toward the town. All he can think of is Dave and the Empire’s role in his demise. Red begins clouding his vision as the pent up rage begins to take control.
The soldiers have disappeared among the buildings before James even closes half the distance. Which way they went is hard to tell but only one road leads out of Ironhold to the south and that’s where they’ve got to be going.
With the others trying to catch up, James lays along his horse’s neck in an attempt to decrease wind resistance and increase speed. He closes the distance with the outskirts of town rapidly and finally shoots down the street between the outlying buildings.
Ahead of him is an intersection and when he reaches it, crossbow bolts fly from the street to the right. He becomes aware of his danger too late and one bolt takes him in the leg while four others strike his horse.
The horse stumbles and throws him from the saddle. He flies through the air and slams into the ground ten feet away. Instantly, he erects his shield around him just as another volley of bolts flies at him. They strike the shield and are deflected away.
His nerve endings tingle when he begins detecting the workings of magic. Looking around quickly, he sees the mage emerge from the side street and come toward him. In his hand is the Star. His troops set up a blockade to prevent the others from coming to his aid as bolt after bolt is fired.
Jiron and the others are forced to retreat from the deadly volley. They quickly backtrack to the edge of town and then their group splits, Jiron and Qyrll going to the right and Miko and Fifer going left.
James gets to his feet, his right leg from which the bolt is still protruding barely able to support him. Thankfully it’s only embedded in the muscle and didn’t hit the bone, although the pain it’s inflicting is almost unbearable.
The tingling sensation suddenly spikes as the Star pulses and a wave of force strikes him. His shield is little protection from an attack of this magnitude and he’s thrown backward where he strikes the side of a building. His lungs freeze from the impact and it takes him a couple seconds to get his breath back.
The mage’s soldiers are keeping guard against the appearance of James’ comrades, the crossbowmen and soldiers lining the streets.
Crumph!
A massive explosion rips apart the street upon which the mage is standing, several of the soldiers adjacent to him are thrown into the air. The others stagger from the concussion of the blast.
When the dust clears, the mage is standing unscathed.
Crumph! Crumph! Crumph!
Three more explosions erupt beneath the soldiers this time, James targets them to better enable his friends to come to his aid.
A sudden spike in the tingling and an explosion similar to those he used on the soldiers erupts beneath him. His shield protects him from the brunt of the impact but he’s still thrown to the side. Landing on his injured leg, he drives the bolt deeper into his thigh, eliciting a cry of pain.
Using the side of the building for support, he works his way back to his feet as he turns to see the mage approaching. Behind the mage, Qyrll suddenly appears on horseback with Jiron right behind. They begin wading into the men disoriented from the explosions, Qyrll’s swords from the vantage of the horse’s back are deadly as they fell man after man. Jiron, though only having his knives and tied to his saddle, is just as deadly.