Brian Pratt - Warrior priest of Dmon-Li

“Makes sense,” nods Jiron.

“I have some ideas I’ve been thinking on the last week or so,” he says to them. “Ever since we left that complex in the swamp, I’ve been thinking about those crystals we found there.”

“Oh?” asks Miko. “Like what?”

“Not really sure, but I think I may be able to use them to harness and store magical energy,” he explains. “If I can, then there is really no limit to what I might be able to do.”

“How are you going to do that?” Jiron asks.

Shrugging, he replies, “I haven’t a clue. But I believe it’s possible so I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out. Remember that large crystal above that lake?”

They nod their heads, and then Jiron says, “Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, that one had magic in it, or at least passing through it,” he tells them. “I just need to figure out how they did that.”

“I see,” comments Jiron.

James also remembers an encounter with that little creature, Igor. It always had seemed odd that they’d gone for pizza that time, but after seeing those crystals, he remembered how Mama had been watching Star Trek. It didn’t register at the time, but she had said how the episode was the one where they’d had to recharge the dilitium crystals.

Perhaps that was why he’d been taken there, to have him think in that direction. If so, why Igor didn’t just come out and say it remains a mystery.

The mountains to the west continue growing in size as the day progresses and near the end of the day they can see where the road enters the mountain range.

“Should be there by nightfall,” Illan announces to everyone.

“Are we going to make camp before entering the mountains?” asks Yern.

“That would probably be advisable,” Illan says. “I think it would be best to take the pass in the daylight, less chance of taking a misstep in the dark.”

“I was hoping we would,” says a tired Keril from the rear. He and Hinney had been back there all day and were tired of eating everyone’s dust. Those two had been friends long before joining Miller’s band and tended to stay together for the most part.

The grasslands stay fairly flat all the way to where the mountains begin rising up to the sky. They find a good spot to camp about a half mile from the pass entrance. As the sun sets, they go about finding enough wood to last the night and settle down to eat the rations they bought in Fairview.

A shadow, some distance away, watches their camp as the night deepens. Once he realizes they are staying put for the night, the scout remounts his horse and rides back to the main party, some miles to the south.

As the eastern sky begins to dawn, they have a quick bite to eat before saddling the horses. “Should make Trendle sometime tomorrow,” Illan tells the rest of them.

He takes the lead as they move toward the pass entrance. Appearing out of the pass entrance before them are about twenty horsemen. One of the riders brings a horn to his lips and blares forth three quick notes. Answering horns can be heard sounding from all around them. Illan brings them to a stop.

“James,” Miko says as he brings his horse closer to his, “what’s happening?”

From all sides, horsemen appear. Jiron’s knife leaps into his good hand as he takes in the hundreds of approaching horsemen who’re moving to surround them.

Suddenly, a familiar tingling sensation begins to make itself known to James. He looks to the pass and sees four horsemen detach themselves from the others. They begin moving down to where James and the others wait. One of them is dressed in armor and a shudder goes through him when he recognizes him.

“Abula-Mazki!” he breathes.

“What?” Jiron asks.

Pointing to the riders coming from the pass, James says, “Abula-Mazki. It seems he didn’t die when the catacombs collapsed.”

“Who is he?” asks Jorry.

“A warrior priest of Dmon-Li,” he replies. “I thought we’d rid ourselves of him some time ago.”

The surrounding riders move to within a hundred yards before coming to a stop. James recognizes the Wolf Clan, as well as patterns of two other clans from the Gathering.

“How did they know to be here?” Miko asks.

“I don’t know,” replies James as he keeps his eye on the approaching warrior priest. The others with him look to be the chiefs of the clans, James recognizes them from when he’d been questioned before the council.

“It looks as if they wish to parley,” Illan says as he glances to James.

“Should we?” Jiron asks him. “I don’t trust him to be honorable.”

“No, I don’t either,” agrees James. “But if it holds off an immediate attack, perhaps I should go and see what he has to say.” Turning to Miko, he says, “You stay here.”

“Okay, James,” replies Miko.

As he moves out to meet with Abula-Mazki, Illan and Jiron join him. He can see that the warrior priest did not come away unscathed from his ordeal in the catacombs. His face is horribly marred and his armor looks to have been crushed and then reshaped. Strong indeed must the magic of Dmon-Li be to allow him to survive such punishment.

Both parties come to a stop once they’re ten feet away from each other. The Chief of the Grey Wolf clan looks with undisguised hatred at James.

“Abula-Mazki,” begins James. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

“I’ll make this simple,” the warrior priest says. “I want the one carrying the Star, the rest can go free. Resist, and you’ll all die!”

Pulling out the Star, he shows it to him and asks, “Why is this so troubling to you?”

Abula-Mazki’s eyes lock on the Star as he replies, “Priest of Morcyth, I’d strike you down now if I didn’t need you alive!”

James contemplates the situation quickly and comes to the conclusion that there’s no way their party will be able to withstand the combined might of the clan riders and the magic of Abula-Mazki. Either one by themselves, maybe, but not together.

Then an idea begins to form in his mind, one he doesn’t care too much for, but there may not be another way, “I have a proposition for you.”

“What is it?” Abula-Mazki asks.

“I propose we each chose a champion to decide the outcome,” explains James. “If yours wins, I go with you willingly. If mine wins, you allow us to continue, unhindered.”

A smile spreads across his face as Abula-Mazki listens to him. “Swear upon the Star, Priest of Morcyth, and I’ll agree to your proposal.”

Holding the Star high, James says, “I swear to go with the warrior priest Abula-Mazki should his champion win.”

“Very well, priest,” he says. “I agree.”

“Give us a few minutes to prepare, and our champion will return here to this spot,” James says.

“You have ten minutes, no more,” he warns him.

Nodding, James replies, “That is agreeable.”

Both parties turn around and return to the others waiting for them.

When James, Illan and Jiron arrive, Uther says, “I know how they knew to be here.”

Every eye turns to him as James asks, “How?”

Gesturing to the group of riders in the pass, he says, “If you look, you’ll see the man who was outside our door just before we left.”

They all turn and sure enough, the man who they’d chased out from in front of their door back at the inn in Seastar is among them. “Damn!” Illan exclaims. “I thought he was working for Councilman Rillian.”

“So did we all,” Jiron adds.

“Maybe he was,” Yern suggests. “What he’d heard could’ve been relayed from Councilman Rillian to them.”

“True,” agrees Illan. “They must’ve almost killed their horses to get here so fast.”