Brian Pratt - Fires of prophesy

Nodding his head, he says, “That makes sense.”

“Yeah,” she says. “They held us until he showed up and then began questioning us as to how the letter and the cargo came to be in our possession. He hadn’t been at it very long before you guys showed up.” She lays her head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around her as sobs begin to wrack her body.

Holding her close, he sits there silently as she lets out all the emotions she’s kept bottled up since the ordeal.

When she’s done, she wipes her eyes and says, “Thanks.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he assures her. He gives her one more hug and then says, “Now, you go and get some sleep, you look like you could use it.”

Nodding her head, she begins to turn toward the house. Then she comes back over to him and gives him one last hug before leaving him there alone.

He watches her go until she’s inside the house. Brushing away the tears that had fallen from his eyes in the dark, he turns his attention back to keeping watch.

Late in the night as Stig is taking his turn at watch, he hears horses passing off in the distance. He quickly moves to try to better see where they’re going. In the moonlight he’s able to see a company of twenty empirical horsemen ride past, going to the east.

He continues watching them until they disappear into the night. When he wakes Yorn for his turn, he tells him of the riders before turning in.

Yorn keeps a watchful eye and ear out for any other visitors, but his watch passes quietly.

“This is not the afterlife,” Scar assures Potbelly when he wakes up, thinking he’s dead.

“It’s not?” he asks confused. “But I died last night.” He sits up, even though the pain in his side is throbbing greatly.

“Don’t you tear out those stitches!” Scar admonishes him severely. He lays a hand on his friend and says, “You need to rest and let you’re body heal.”

Potbelly gives his friend an annoying look as he knocks his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t need no nursemaid!” he exclaims. “Been hurt worse than this many times in the pits.”

“Stubborn,” Potbelly tells him, “that’s what you are.”

Tersa walks over to see how he’s doing and he asks, “Are you sure this isn’t the afterlife? For there surely must stand an angel.”

She smiles at him and asks, “How are you doing?”

“Better,” he replies, “seeing as how I’m not dead.”

“That’s good,” she tells him. “Jiron was saying that we might stay here till tomorrow if nobody shows up.”

“What for?” Potbelly asks.

“So we can rest and you can heal,” she replies.

“Heal? Me?” he asks as if the thought had never even occurred to him. “Now don’t be thinking that I need any rest.” He starts to get up and says through teeth clinched in pain, “I hardly even notice it.”

“Be that as it may,” she tells him, “we’re here for a while so you may as well take advantage of it and heal the best you can.” She gives him a playful, stern gaze.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies as he settles back down to the floor.

“Keep an eye on him,” she says to Scar, giving him a wink and a smile.

“You can count on it,” he assures her as he turns his gaze to Potbelly. “You rest!”

Potbelly gives them both a small smile as he lies back down and soon drifts off to sleep once more.

Over to the other side of the room, James has awakened and is talking with Jiron. “Did everyone make it?” he asks.

“Yeah,” he replies, “we’re all here. Potbelly took a bolt in the side, but he’ll survive.”

“That’s good,” James says. “We should probably get going soon.”

“You need rest,” Jiron tells him, “and Potbelly could use a day for his wound to heal.”

“We may not have that much time,” warns James. “They’re going to want us bad. Lord Cytok will most likely want revenge for what we did to him.” He looks to Jiron and says, “He’ll mobilize everything he can to search for us.”

“What should we do?” he asks.

“I’m still going after Miko, but the rest of you should try to get out of the Empire,” he says.

“You helped me get Tersa back, I’m not going to leave you before you rescue your friend,” he tells him.

James looks at him a moment and then replies, “Alright. We’re near the coast, or at least we were. Maybe we can sneak into a port town and get passage for the others on a ship, sailing up the coast to Cardri. If the Empire isn’t at war with them, then there still should be unrestricted access for Cardri captains.”

Jiron nods and adds, “With them out of danger, you and I can go after your friend.”

“We just need to figure a way into a port where a Cardri ship is at anchor,” he says.

“That’s going to be the tricky part,” agrees Jiron.

“What’s going to be the tricky part?” asks Yorn as he comes over and joins the conversation.

Jiron quickly fills him in on the plan thus far. “You and the others need to get Tersa and Delia to a safe place and hole up while we’re rescuing his friend.”

“Take her to Trendle, it’s a village to the north of Bearn,” suggests James. “When you get there, find a Forest Warden by the name of Ceryn and let him know what’s going on. He should be able to get you settled in while you wait for us.”

“Alright,” agrees Yorn.

“Now,” James says, “ready or not, we need to get out of here.”

“Get away from me!” Potbelly yells at Scar who’s trying to assist him in mounting his horse. “I ain’t no invalid.”

“Alright,” Scar replies impatiently as he backs away. “Tear out those stitches then, I hope you bleed to death you pig headed mule!” He stands there and watches as Potbelly grabs the saddle and swings himself up onto his horse with a groan.

“See,” he says through teeth gritted in pain, perspiration beginning to form on his face, “don’t need your help.”

Scar shakes his head at his friend then mounts his own horse. Staying close in case Potbelly needs him, he sits and waits for the others to get ready.

Delia rides over to them, nods to Potbelly as she asks Scar, “How’s he doing?”

“I’m fine!” Potbelly answers, irritated at her for talking about him like he isn’t even there.

“Stubborn and likely to kill himself because of it,” he says with a slight smile, “but I think he’ll survive the ride.”

“Let’s hope so,” she says.

Jiron is the last to mount. He turns toward the others and says, “We’ll make for the sea and then travel along the coast. First chance we get, we’ll acquire some clothes that will allow us to pass ourselves off as Empire citizens.”

Yorn asks, “What are we to do if we encounter the enemy?”

“Avoid them if possible,” he replies. “Kill them if not.”

Yorn gives him a satisfied grin at the thought of a little payback for the sacking of his home.

“Now, let’s ride!” Jiron exclaims as he kicks his horse into a trot. Heading to the northwest, he leads them toward the sea.

James rides in the lead with Jiron as they make their way back through the desert to the road. “Think we’ll make it?” Jiron asks him.

“We can but try,” he replies.

“What do you plan to do once you get your friend?” he asks.

“Make our way back to Cardri,” he says. “At least there it’s reasonably safe right now. After that, who knows?”

Shorty hollers from the rear, “Jiron! Riders coming from the north! Looks like an advance patrol.”

They turn to see ten riders coming directly at them, they have little chance in avoiding contact. “Potbelly! Stay and watch the others,” Jiron hollers to him. Turning his horse, he cries to the rest, “We can’t let even one escape, or they’ll bring more.”