“So far I’m doing alright,” he tells him.
“Good, I’d hate to have to carry you out of here!” he says with a grin.
“I wouldn’t care for that either,” he replies.
They race further on, horns still sounding behind them, but are eerily quiet before them. James figures most of the pursuit has been directed back behind them before he started doing magic and letting them know their whereabouts.
The wall now looms large before them. The street they are on comes to the base of the wall and they are forced to either turn left or right. Both ways look the same, so they turn to the left and race along the wall, hoping to find a way out.
Out of the dark ahead of them, they begin to see light as they approach the gates. Coming to a stop, they see arrayed before them, over a hundred men as well as a dozen or more crossbowmen. Five other crossbowmen man the walls above the gate.
“Man, what are we going to do?” Jiron asks him.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “The magic I would need to use to clear that away would leave me unconscious if not outright kill me.”
They make to turn around when from behind them, the force that had been stopped by the exploding street now boils into view behind them. When the soldiers see them standing there, a cry goes up and horns begin to sound as they charge.
The force at the gate, now aware of their presence, forms into ranks as they make a wall of iron across the street. The crossbowmen ready their crossbows.
Crumph!
The ground behind them erupts, throwing the leading edge of the charging men in the air in the hopes of slowing them down. It does, but only momentarily.
James readies a spell for the group by the gates when their lines begin to buckle and he sees the crossbowmen on the walls turn and appear to be firing at their own forces. Whatever the reason, he changes his tactics and begins peppering the crossbowmen on the walls with slugs and they begin to fall.
“Look!” cries Jiron as he points to the force in front of the gates.
James turns his attention to them and sees them fighting with men in slave rags. The slaves!
“Come on!” Jiron says as he races to the gates and the fighting going on there.
James runs behind him as he sees a group of twenty slaves bearing nothing but makeshift clubs and scavenged weapons, race toward the gatehouse. The crossbowmen on the ground see them and a flight of bolts cuts down half before they make it.
The ten or so left reach the gatehouse where they overpower the two guards there and are soon inside. Two of the slaves lay dead at the gatehouse door.
James glances down the street behind him and sees the force there that had been stopped by the erupting of the street now making their way around the blasted area and continuing the pursuit.
Hundreds of slaves pour into the ranks of the defenders by the gates. The group of crossbowmen, who had so recently mowed down the men on their way to the gatehouse, are now chopped to pieces or bludgeoned to death by men bent on revenge.
Suddenly, the gate opens up just as the last remaining soldier before the gate falls. A cry erupts and is quickly dampened by a man, an old man. Shouting out orders, he forms them into a line to meet the oncoming soldiers.
James looks his way and for a moment their eyes lock. He gives James a grin and a nod before resuming the marshalling of his forces.
“James! We’ve got to go now!” yells Jiron, trying to be heard over the noise of horns and men shouting.
“But they’ll be killed!” counters James.
“They know that!” replies Jiron. “They’re not doing it for their freedom. They’re doing it for revenge on those who destroyed their town and killed its people.” Grabbing him by the shoulder, he propels him toward the widening gates. “And one is doing it so you can get out of here! Don’t let them have died in vain.”
Before passing through the gate, he glances back just as the two forces meet. The slaves are no match for the soldiers, but have the numbers in their favor. He sees the old man out in front of his men, sword held high and time seems to slow as he engages with the nearest soldier.
He runs the soldier through and pulls out his sword to ward off the blow of the next, but isn’t fast enough. James watches as the soldier’s blade strikes off the old man’s left arm. Before he has a chance to strike the old man again, the old man runs him through the chest where his sword becomes lodged. Then he passes out of sight as another slave comes to take his place in line.
A slave comes up to them and says, “Get out now! We can’t hold them off for long!”
“What was the old man’s name?” James asks the slave as he’s being pulled through the gates by Jiron.
“Derrion,” the slave replies as he and others push to close the gates.
With a resounding thud, the gates close and they can hear the locking mechanism secure the gates.
“Now let’s run!” Jiron cries out.
They turn to run and come to a stop when they see twenty horsemen arrayed before them. Without even a pause, James releases the power.
Crumph!
The center of the line of horsemen erupts upward from the force of the explosion. The horses not caught in the blast rear up, some unseating their riders. Jiron races forward to meet them before they have a chance to recover. James follows as slug after slug flies through the air, taking out more of the remaining horsemen.
Jiron closes with one of the unhorsed soldiers and blocks his attack with both knives while kicking out and connecting with the man’s knee. Bones snap as the man cries out in pain. Leaving him there to writhe on the ground, Jiron moves toward two horses milling around without riders.
Crumph!
Another explosion erupts, throwing more men and horses into the air.
Jiron almost reaches the horses before another unhorsed rider closes with him and strikes out with his sword. Catching it on crossed knives, Jiron pushes outward and throws the man backward off balance. Moving in quickly, he strikes out and scores two quick thrusts, one which punctures a lung. As the man falls, Jiron runs past and reaches the horses.
Vaulting up onto one, he turns it around and sees James beset by three soldiers. A flare of light and one soldier is thrown backward as the other two continue their advance. James is beginning to look very tired.
Taking the reins of the other horse, he kicks his into a gallop and rides directly at the men advancing upon James. They fail to see him coming in time and he rides right over them, bowling them over. “Get on!” he shouts at James as he brings the horses to a stop next to him.
More soldiers are advancing upon them from all directions as James gets into the saddle. A sound of turning gears and the gates behind them begin to open as even more soldiers start pouring through.
Once James is securely in the saddle, Jiron kicks his horse into a gallop again and they race away from the city into the night. Behind them, they see hundreds of soldiers pouring out of the gates but quickly fall behind.
The road they find themselves on follows the river as it flows on their left. After getting his bearings, he realizes this is the same river they had followed on the way down to Saragon. And up ahead of them is a large force of men and a mage, perhaps even now waiting for them.
Chapter Nineteen
As they follow the road in the dark, James can’t get the death of the slaves off his mind. A tear runs down his cheek as his emotions begin getting to him.
“You okay?” asks Jiron after they’ve ridden in silence for awhile.
“Just thinking of Derrion and the others back there, sacrificing themselves so we could escape,” he says sadly.
“I wouldn’t think of it that way,” replies Jiron. “They were fighting for their freedom, whether in death or in life. No man who has known freedom can long suffer slavery, they are either broken spiritually and are no longer the men they once were. Or they fight and die.”