Jared gets to his feet about the time the rider reaches the fringe of the light cast by their campfire. It’s a man and doesn’t look to be military in nature. He brings his horse to a halt and asks a question.
Coming forward, Jared replies to the man.
Whatever he said didn’t sit too well with him, the smile that was on the man’s face quickly disappears. His eyes dart to where James is sitting and then he unconsciously licks his lips in nervousness.
Jared pauses in what he was saying a moment and when nothing further is forthcoming from the man, says one final thing. Whatever he said was more than the man could take. Turning his horse around quickly, the man kicks his horse into a fast trot as he leaves their campfire.
After the man disappears in the night and the sound of his horse’s hooves can no longer be heard, James asks, “What did you tell him?”
“That you were a servant of Dmon-Li,” he explains with a grin. “I thought that alone would have him out of here. You see those who serve Dmon-Li are an unstable bunch to be around, never know when one will get it into his head to kill you.”
“But that didn’t do it?” Jiron asks.
“No.” Then he chuckles as he says, “But when I told him you were on your way to give Dmon-Li a sacrifice, that was all he needed to hear.”
“You know,” begins Jiron. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About what?” inquires James.
Turning to Jared, he says, “When you were talking to that rider, I began wondering what if things went bad. If it had, before you could tell us to do anything, he might have had the chance to escape and warn others.”
“What are you getting at?” James asks, not sure where he’s going with this.
“There may come a time when action is called for at a moment’s notice,” he explains. “I think it would be a good idea to come up with subtle gestures Jared could use to indicate how it is going.”
“You mean like if he crosses his arm, you take out whoever it is he’s talking to?” suggests James.
“Something like that, but not crossing his arms,” Jiron states.
“Why?” Jared asks.
Jiron turns to him and says, “Because you cross your arms all the time, it’s a habit.”
Jared looks surprised, he had no idea he did it that much.
“Something else. Like say scratching your ear with your right hand.”
Nodding, James says, “That would work. Maybe there would be gestures on how I should react as well. I mean, when you are talking, a stern gaze or an amused smile could give the illusion that I am understanding what’s going on.”
“How about my right hand for you James, left for Jiron,” Jared suggests.
“Alright, but let’s keep it simple.” Over the next hour or so before they turn in, they work out some simple gestures Jared will use. For Jiron it’s fairly simple, if he scratches behind his left ear with his left hand, he attacks and takes out who he’s talking to.
For James it’s a bit more complicated. A touch of the ear and he gets indignant. Running his fingers through his hair means to act amused, etc. All of these are with the right hand of course.
They practice the gestures until they turn in. Jared has the gestures down and the other two now know how to react depending on what he does.
Jiron takes the first watch with James following after for the mid watch. When he awakens James for his turn at watch, he again asks about the red flashes and the caravans.
Bringing him away from where Jared is blissfully snoring, he puts some distance between them before stopping. He casts a quick glance over to their sleeping comrade and then in a whisper says, “Back when I first began planning for this campaign, I wanted to really hurt the Empire’s infrastructure. At first, I thought about taking all those from The Ranch and destroying factories, bridges, etc. But then I realized that wouldn’t be feasible. There was no way the Empire would sit still and allow us to do that.”
“I figured what we would be able to accomplish would be limited in nature and not do the sort of damage that I wanted. Then I started thinking about Delia and her caravan, about how they go all over. That’s when I got the idea to plant seeds of destruction in the wagons of various caravans.”
“What is that suppose to accomplish?” he asks. “Destroying more caravans isn’t going to hurt them all that much.”
“Not just the caravans, no,” agrees James. “But what if those seeds of destruction would wait until they encountered certain things?”
“Like what?” Jiron questions.
“I have it so that what I planted in the wagons will continue to draw minute quantities of power from their environment and store it,” he explains. “Now don’t worry, the draw is so small that I seriously doubt if any passing mage would detect it. The seed will continue to grow in power until it encounters one of three things, then explode.”
“The first thing is a bridge,” he says, “When it detects that it’s over flowing water it blows, hopefully taking out the bridge. And, when a bridge is destroyed, that avenue over the river will be gone. All caravans will have to find an alternate way across.”
“And each time they do…” Jiron prompts.
“Ker-Pow!” James says dramatically. Then he glances over to the sleeping form of Jared and relaxes when another snore comes to them through the night. “Eventually, most of the ways goods are transported within the Empire will be severely handicapped.”
“The second trigger will be coming into close proximity of iron, such as swords. I’m not talking about a couple hanging at the hips of guards, no. I’m talking about a company of men in armor.”
“The third trigger is if the wagon comes in close proximity to live magic, or a mage who is currently working magic.”
“That could take them by surprise,” comments Jiron approvingly.
“I hope so,” he says. “Another by product of all this is the confusion that it will bring. Bursts of power going off at different points within the Empire, none knowing just what is going on.”
“Be hard to pin down exactly where you are,” grins Jiron.
James grows somber as he nods. “True. The only problem I have is with the innocents that will be killed by the wagons.”
“But many more will die if the Empire isn’t stopped, or at least slowed down,” counters Jiron. “Don’t be sorrowful about what you have to do in war. Your intent is not malign in nature.”
“True,” replies James. “You better get some sleep. Morning isn’t too far off.”
“Alright,” he says and then they return to the campsite where Jiron climbs into his bedroll.
James paces throughout his watch. The vision of the innocents he will kill running through his mind.
The morning dawns bright, forecasting another scorcher. They make an early start to take advantage of the coolness while they can. Far on the horizon ahead of them, mountains rise out of the desert.
“That’s where we’ll find Ki,” states James. Looking up from a small map Lord Pytherian supplied him, he glances to Jiron. “Should be there by nightfall if we keep a steady pace.”
James has felt probing attacks ever since leaving the inn as someone tries to break through and find him. It doesn’t feel as if whoever is doing the probing is all that serious in finding him though. More like just checking on the off chance that the shielding cover is no longer there. The fact that they haven’t tried to punch through since the first time has him a little worried.
They continue to make good time as they ride along the road. Traffic here is steady but not heavy. Whenever they encounter a caravan, James continues to plant the seeds beneath the wagon beds. By the time the sun begins its descent to the horizon, he’s managed to plant more than two dozen in different caravans.
Late in the afternoon, another caravan approaches them and they move to the side of the road to let them pass. Just as he had with others, he plants a seed in the second wagon. The wagon rolls on for half a minute before he feels a minute tingling sensation. A cry comes from behind and he turns to find the wagon’s bottom has broken out and iron ingots are spilling through the bottom.