Illan walks beside them as they approach the gates. When they reach them, he says, “We’ll stand by to open them quickly should the need arise.” Henri, Lord Pytherian’s aide is there to facilitate the opening of the gate should it become necessary.
Behind them, the remainder of Ceadric’s men ride. James didn’t feel they were necessary, but Illan insisted saying it was best to be prepared for all contingencies.
At the gates James nods to Henri who shouts to a man stationed along the wall above the gates, “Is it clear?”
“Yes, sir!” the man replies.
“Open the gates!” he hollers to those in the gatehouse.
With a clack and a creak, the gates begin opening. They part just enough to allow the two men to walk through. “Good luck,” Illan says before they begin moving out to face the enemy.
“Thanks,” replies Jiron. James is frankly too nervous to make much of a reply.
“Let’s go,” he says and steps through the gate. Jiron follows a half step behind with the flag raised high.
As they make their way the short distance to the edge of the bridge, the gate swings closed behind them, shutting with a deep thud. Before them, they see activity arising from the enemy encampment.
The gate of the palisade is open and troops are beginning to spill forth. Soldiers, crossbowmen and a company of Parvati’s take their position on either side of the gate, leaving an avenue through which James and Jiron can pass.
Crossing the bridge takes a large amount of will to force his legs to make the journey across to the other side. “What idiot came up with this idea?” he exclaims under his breath. “He should be shot.”
Jiron chuckles as he says, “You did.”
Once past the bridge, they have to cross several hundred feet before reaching the enemy’s lines. When they reach the halfway point, a single individual exits the palisade’s gate and moves to intercept them.
“Doesn’t look like anyone of much importance,” observes Jiron.
“Maybe not,” he says. “Probably wants to see what we want before deciding if it’s worth being taken before the commander of their army.”
The man is undeniably a soldier, and by the looks of his armor and the insignia upon it, one of high rank. When the two parties are five feet apart, both sides come to a halt. As the bearer of the white flag, it’s customary for James to make the first declaration.
“We wish to parley with the leader of the host,” he states.
“Are you giving your surrender?” the soldier asks.
“No,” James replies. When the man looks questioningly at him, he adds, “Rather to discuss the removal of the Empire’s forces from within Madoc’s borders and the cessation of hostilities between the two nations.”
The man looks in absolute disbelief at him. “Take your foolish notions away before we kill you!” he exclaims, his disbelief turning into annoyance at being bothered by such stupidity.
“You would violate the sanctity of the Flag of Truce?” he asks.
“The Flag does not grant you immunity indefinitely,” the man explains. “Only so long as the talk is in progress and a short time afterward to allow you to return to your side.”
“I am not leaving until I speak with the leader of the Empire’s forces,” James insists.
“Go back,” the man says. “This talk is at an end.” Turning his back on James and Jiron, he begins walking back to his line.
“What should we do now?” Jiron asks quietly once the man has passed beyond where he could overhear the question.
James glances to him and says, “We wait.”
“But they’ll attack shortly,” he tells him. “He as much as promised that.”
“I know,” he replies. “We need them to.”
He and Jiron stay standing there before the assembled soldiers of the Empire. The man who had talked with them stops when he reaches their ranks and turns to observe James and Jiron still standing there.
“How long do you expect them to give us?” James asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies. “But the longer it takes, the more time Delia and the others will have to get into position.
Five minutes go by before the man runs out of patience. A command is given and the crossbowmen move to the fore and take aim on the two men standing alone before them. “I guess time has run out,” observes Jiron.
“It would seem so,” he replies. “I hope this works.”
“So do I,” admits Jiron quietly.
Another command and the crossbowmen release their volley of bolts toward the pair. The soldiers watch in amazement as the two men stand their ground despite the bolts flying toward them. Just before the bolts connect, a shimmering shield springs to life surrounding them. The bolts are deflected to the side.
A gasp ensues from the gathered soldiers as they realize a mage stands before them. Another command and a second volley speeds toward them. Just as the first had, the second volley strikes the shield and is deflected away.
From the defenders manning Lythylla’s wall behind them, a cheer erupts and James glances backward to see the battlement from one end to the other packed tight with observers. Seems the entire garrison and most of the civilians are up there to observe the encounter.
“My turn,” James says, more to himself than anything else. He brings his hands close together and then slowly brings them apart. A myriad of small red orbs flow outwards from between his hands toward the enemy soldiers. The orbs dance and zoom all the while emitting white sparks that sizzle through the air.
Moving quickly, the orbs soon near the assembled Empire soldiers. Before the orbs have a chance to reach them, panic erupts within their ranks and the men begin moving quickly back through the gate to avoid the oncoming orbs. Another cheer erupts from the defenders atop the walls, as well as a little bit of laughter.
As the orbs reach the fleeing men, they begin zinging them with small shocks. Each one doing little harm, but extremely irritating. “Are they going to kill them?” asks Jiron.
“Hardly,” James says with a grin. “It’s just to get their attention.”
“I think it did that,” he agrees.
Suddenly, James causes a starburst of immense proportions to spring into being overhead, bathing the entire countryside in light. It begins descending toward the enemy camp and before it has a chance to descend very far, James feels the tingling sensation which always accompanies another doing magic. Then just as quickly as the glowing orb appears, it winks out.
He turns to Jiron and says, “I guess that ends the question of whether or not they have a mage with them. They do.”
Jiron nods his head in understanding. The orbs don’t last very long once they encounter the soldiers and quickly dissipate.
Then, from within the palisade, the man who had greeted them before once more makes an appearance. James maintains his shield around himself and Jiron as they await his approach.
The man stops several feet from the edge of the shimmering field and says, “The commander has agreed to your proposal for a meeting.”
“Thought he might,” James tells the man.
“Are we to be granted safe passage?” asks Jiron.
“Of course,” he replies. “Feel free to lower your shield at any time should you so desire.”
Jiron snorts at the idea and James says, “If it’s all the same, I would just as soon not.”
Shrugging the man says, “Suit yourself. If you’ll follow me?”
As they move to follow the man, Jiron lets go the pole bearing the white flag letting it fall to the ground. No point in carrying that any longer, both he and James know they’ll not be let go so easily. The man pauses but a moment when the pole hits the ground, then casts a quick glance at the flag lying in the dirt before he resumes his progress toward the palisade.