Brian Pratt - Warrior priest of Dmon-Li

“Your people don’t care for the Empire?” he asks.

Shaking his head, he says, “No. The Tribute takes too many of our horses and goods every year. We are honorable people, or at least most of us are, and so we abide by it.”

“Maybe some day you can be free of them,” James says.

“It would be a good thing for our people,” he agrees. “But until that day comes, we must do what honor dictates.”

They come to James’ tent and he lifts the flap and enters. He stops suddenly when he sees only Jiron sitting there on the floor.

Jiron looks up as they enter and asks, “Isn’t Miko with you?”

Worry comes over James as he replies, “No, he isn’t.”

With confusion on his face, Jiron says, “Two warriors came and said that the council had requested his presence, so he went with them.”

“The council made no such request,” Therin tells him.

“Then who came and took him?” James asks.

Anger suddenly blossoms upon Therin’s face as he replies, “The Grey Wolf Clan no doubt!” He spits on the floor as he begins pacing. “Since they can’t move against you or it would violate the Pact, they’ve arranged for you to move against them.”

“You mean they’ve taken Miko to cause us to go after him and break the Pact?” James asks. “So we’d be given to that warrior priest?”

“It would seem so,” he replies.

“Damn!” curses James.

“Are we going to tell the council?” Jiron asks him.

“Tell them what?” he replies. “We have no proof other than your word which will not be believed over that of one of us. You can be sure the Grey Wolf Clan will deny any involvement in this.”

“So what are we to do?” James asks.

“You must go and get him,” he says.

“But they’ll be expecting that,” Jiron adds.

“True,” agrees Therin. “But what choice do you have?”

Jiron comes to James and says, “If we can escape from Azzac when all are against us, we should be able to manage getting Miko from out of here.”

“Then what he said was true?” Therin asks. “About you destroying and killing in the Empire?”

“We only fought those who attacked us,” James explains. “We never initiated any fights, only defended ourselves.”

Nodding, Therin says, “Wait here a moment.” And then he turns and leaves the tent quickly.

“Wonder what that was about?” Jiron asks.

“Don’t know, but we can wait at least a couple minutes more,” James replies.

After only a few moments, Therin returns with two sets of cloaks bearing the design of the Grey Wolf Clan. “Here,” he says, handing them the cloaks. “These should enable you to get close to where they’re holding your friend. More, I dare not do.”

Taking the cloaks, James says, “Thank you.” He hands Jiron his as he dons his own.

Therin opens the tent flap and peers out, making sure no one is nearby. He waves them to follow as he steps away through the opening. “Follow me,” he whispers. “I’ll lead you over to the edge of the Grey Wolf Clan’s camp. From there, you’re on your own.”

“I understand,” James assures him.

They follow him quietly through the Windrider camp. Warriors recognize Therin and call out a greeting. He merely gives them a short reply as he hurries along toward the Grey Wolf camp.

He meanders through many tents until he comes to a clear area separating the Windrider’s and the Grey Wolf Clan’s camps. Stopping, he turns to them and whispers, “I must leave you here. I can’t take the chance of violating the Pact, though in spirit I suppose I have already done so.”

“We thank you for all you have done for us,” James says as he shakes his hand.

“Just bringing the plans of the Grey Wolf Clan to ruins is thanks enough,” he says as he slips away back within the camp.

They pause there within the shadows as they figure out what to do. A large tent sits within the middle of the camp and is the most likely place to find Miko. Between them and the main tent are rows of smaller tents with many warriors of the Grey Wolf Clan sitting around campfires.

James can’t see any way to make it through them without coming into close contact.

“What do you plan?” asks Jiron.

“I may have an idea,” he says after taking a moment to think. “Give me a moment to work it out.”

Jiron nods as he keeps watch on the camp and the tent where they believe Miko is currently being held.

Suddenly there appear two almost invisible translucent bubbles floating in the air before them. “Are you crazy?” he asks James. “That warrior priest is going to know where we are!”

“Exactly,” he replies. Then the bubbles begin floating away from him, each moving around the camp in the opposite direction of the other. Whispering quietly, he explains, “Right now, they’re not using much magic so I doubt if he’s going to take notice of them. But as they go further from us, they’re going to draw more and more magic from those they pass, a small amount at a time. Soon, they should be emitting enough magic resonance for him to realize something is going on and comes out to investigate.”

Jiron can see him grinning in the moonlight, “And then the fun will begin.”

“I hope so,” Jiron replies. “Whichever tent he comes out of, you can bet that’ll be the one Miko is in.”

Ten minutes pass before they see the flap to the large tent open up and they see Abula-Mazki exit and move directly toward the area where one of the bubbles should be.

When James begins to feel the prickling of magic, he says, “Any second now.”

ZZZZZST!

A flash of lightning flies toward Abula-Mazki out of the night and explodes upon a shield he erected around himself.

The Grey Wolf camp erupts in a frenzy of activity as warriors cry out and grab their weapons. The warriors begin running toward the area where the lightning had originated. Soon, the area between them and the tent is relatively clear.

“Let’s go,” James says, allowing Jiron to take the lead. They run, blending in with the others running around as they make their way to the tent.

ZZZZZST!

Another lightning bolt sizzles as it again strikes out at Abula-Mazki. Then suddenly a loud explosion as the bubble erupts into a fireball, blazing into the night. They can hear cries of warriors who had the misfortune to be caught within the blast.

“He’ll be coming back!” Jiron whispers to James.

“Not necessarily,” he says. “Remember, there were two of them.”

“Right,” he remembers.

They reach a tent adjacent to the one they’re after and pause as they see Abula-Mazki returning to the tent. The expression on his face is one of obvious anger.

From the other side of the camp, the other bubble begins emitting invisible bursts of magic, which do nothing other than create a magical signature. James can feel the prickling as each of the bursts happen. Looking at Abula-Mazki, it’s apparent that he feels them too.

The warrior priest calls out commands as he and the warriors near him run over toward where the bursts are originating.

Once they are past, Jiron crosses to the back of the tent and with a quick swipe from his knife, opens a long slit in it.

He quickly steps through the opening and dives to the side when he detects a movement out of the corner of his eye. The sword of the guard which had been stationed inside the tent passes just inches from where Jiron had entered the tent. Rolling quick, Jiron comes to his feet with both knives at the ready.

The guard calls out to those outside but the noise out there drowns out his words. Jiron moves to engage him and attempts to draw him away from the opening in the side of the tent so James can enter.