James gives him a wobbly nod.
“I’ll be back. I need to get a couple horses,” he tells him. Leaving him hidden there among the bushes, Jiron moves through the night until he sees two riders riding leisurely back into town. They’re not in any hurry. Perfect!
Angling to intercept them, he races through the dark. The moon above enables him to see the terrain well enough to keep from tripping over the desert shrubs. Just a dark shadow in the night, he maneuvers until he’s directly behind them.
The riders talk to each other, occasionally laughing at the witticism of the other, totally oblivious to the impending attack coming up behind them. He paces them for several feet until the space between the two horses closes to just the right distance. Then, running as fast as he can, he races to catch them. As he nears, he jumps and grabs each from behind and pulls them backward off their horses.
As the two men hit the ground, Jiron draws his knives and advances on the one getting to his feet first. He kicks out and connects with the man’s middle, knocking him over again and then attacks with his knives before the man has a chance to recover. A quick stab through the chest ends the man’s life.
Jiron turns to face his partner who is now ready with sword and shield. The man thrusts with his sword, Jiron able to deflect it easily to the side. He tries to counterstrike with his other knife but it’s knocked aside by the man’s shield.
They circle each other for a second then the man strikes out with an overhand blow that Jiron has to sidestep to avoid. As the sword swings past him, Jiron strikes out with one of his knives and scores a cut along the man’s sword arm.
Angered, the man advances rapidly and begins attacking him with a flurry of blows that Jiron easily avoids or deflects aside. He continues to defend against the man’s attack, waiting for his chance. Patience is often a knife fighter’s best friend.
Suddenly, the opening presents itself and he strikes out at the man’s sword arm. The man cries out as his sword drops to the ground after Jiron’s knife severs the tendons in his arm. He pushes Jiron back with his shield as he cradles his arm, trying to stop the blood from pumping out.
Jiron goes on the offensive and after a quick series of blows which the man cannot defend against with just a shield, he sinks to the ground, eyes vacant as death takes him. Jiron wipes his knives on the man’s tunic before returning them to their sheaths. Gathering the horses, he mounts one and takes the reins of the other as he rides back to where he left James. It takes a minute to locate the exact spot where he left him, but a hushed call from James leads him there.
He gets down from his horse to help James into the saddle. No sooner is James in the saddle then the hoof beats of a patrol is heard coming their way. Jiron takes a piece of rope and quickly secures him to the saddle, all the while listening to the patrol coming closer and closer. Finished with securing James, he quickly mounts and they wait in silence as the patrol passes by in the dark. He then leads them out into the desert, away from the city. Behind them, the sound of patrol begins to recede in the distance as they move further away. Once the sound of the patrol can no longer be heard, Jiron brings the two horses to a gallop as they begin to cover the miles quickly. After traveling for some time, he hears James holler, “Stop!”
He brings the horses to a halt and then looks back to see James untying himself. Slipping off the horse, James doubles up and begins to retch into the dirt. Once his stomach is again under control, he stands back up and leans against his horse for support.
“You okay?” Jiron asks.
“Better,” he assures him, his speech only slightly affected.
“What happened to you?” Jiron asks, dismounting and coming over to him.
“Not really sure,” he replies. “I remember you leaving and then things get kind of fuzzy after that. I remember being carried over your shoulder through town, or at least parts of it. But nothing really clear until a short time ago when I came to on the horse.”
Jiron relates to James the events from when he returned to the camp and found him being loaded onto the wagon until now. “They must’ve done something to you,” he states.
“I agree,” he says. “Probably a drug of some kind.”
“Think so?” Jiron asks.
“It would make sense,” he replies. “A mage who’s drugged wouldn’t be able to focus clearly and do magic. Actually, it was quite effective.” Holding his head, he looks to Jiron.
“I would say so,” he agrees. “Can you do magic now?”
James concentrates, or tries to anyway and then shakes his head. “Not even if my life depended on it,” he tells him. “Just have to wait until the effects wear off.”
“Think they will?” Jiron asks.
“Don’t know why they wouldn’t,” he says and then suddenly begins to panic as he grabs his shirt. “The medallion!” he cries out. “They took the medallion!”
Jiron reaches into the pouch hanging on his belt and removes the medallion, handing it back to James. “I grabbed it while I was getting you out of there,” he tells him.
Sighing with relief, he takes it and places it once more around his neck. “Thank you,” he says gratefully to Jiron.
“Thought you might want it when I saw it lying there,” he says, grinning. “But we need to get going, if you think you can ride.” He holds up the rope used to secure him to the saddle and asks, “Should I tie you to the saddle or can you make it on your own?”
“I think I’ll be okay for now,” James assures him. As he tries to get back in the saddle, he has a little difficulty with his coordination and balance. With a little help from Jiron he makes it up onto the horse. Once in the saddle, he’s able to maintain his balance well enough despite continual spells of dizziness. With an eye on James, Jiron mounts up and they continue on into the desert.
The next morning when James wakes up, all effects of the drug have worn off. His head is clear and he once again is able to maintain his balance. While they prepare to ride, James realizes that his belt and slugs are gone.
“What’s wrong?” Jiron asks him.
“My belt with the slugs is missing,” he explains. “They must have taken it when they captured me.”
Jiron takes the pouch off his belt and tosses it over to him, “Look in there.” When James catches it and opens it up he continues, “I think all your stuff is in there. I quickly scraped everything off the table where they had placed your things.”
James pulls out his belt and finds only five slugs remaining. He puts it back on and then looks through the pouch again. He pulls out a vial containing a clear liquid. Holding it up, he takes a close look at it as he says, “This might be the drug they used.” He hands it over to Jiron who examines it.
“Didn’t realize I had taken it,” he tells him as he hands it back.
“It may come in useful,” James says as he places it back in his pouch. Yes, it may just come in useful.
Before they mount, James pulls out his mirror and again finds Miko in the dark, picking away at the stone wall. “At least he’s still alive,” he says to Jiron.
“That’s something, for sure,” he replies.
James takes out the piece of cloth and casts his directional spell. It moves to indicate Miko lies off to the southwest, a little more west than south. “He’s that way,” he says to Jiron, pointing to the southwest before putting the cloth away.
Jiron sits for a second on his horse, contemplating how to say this, “You know, the noose is tightening. By now, soldiers are going to be swarming this entire area looking for us. And it’s not just soldiers in the hunt, but mages too.”
“What are you saying?” he asks him. “That we should give up? Leave him to his fate?” Shaking his head, he says, “No, I could never do that. If you feel you can’t continue, I’ll understand, but I need to try, or die doing it.”