Brian Pratt - The unsuspecting mage

James stares at him for a second, emotions playing across his face, then slowly nods his head and says, “Alright, we will deal with her should we come back this way.” Turning his horse around yet again, he resumes their trek east toward Trademeet.

Seeing his friend turn about, Miko breathes a sigh of relief as he gets his horse moving and hurries to catch up. He wasn’t sure what more he could have done had James been set on returning to Willimet.

For the rest of the day, Miko rides in silence while James continues brooding about the way he had been treated and how she drove him out of town. His mood gradually improves and by late afternoon comes to the realization that going back truly would have been the wrong decision, maybe even a costly one.

Sunset finds them still on the road in the middle of nowhere with naught more than grass and low hills as far as they can see. Just before the sun dips below the horizon, they make camp atop a nearby hill.

After supper while they are relaxing around the fire, James hears a rumble off in the distance. “Looks like a storm may be coming in,” he tells Miko.

“Great,” moans Miko as he stares toward the storm on the horizon. Shortly, flashes of lightning begin to appear. “What are we going to do?” he asks.

“Get wet I suppose, not much else we can do,” James says as he stares out across the grasslands. Except for the occasional tree, there is nothing which could be used for shelter.

Pointing off in the distance where two lone trees grew Miko says, “We could take shelter under those trees over there. At least we could stay dry a little bit.”

Shaking his head, James says, “Not in a thunder storm. Lightning can hit the treetops and travel down to the ground where we would be. People have died from being struck by lightning, I would rather get wet.”

Miko looks longingly at the shelter the trees would provide, but trusts in James’ judgment and stays put. “Maybe it won’t reach us until tomorrow,” he hopes.

“Maybe,” James says not sounding as if he believes it. “There’s a good way to tell, though.”

“How?” Miko asks.

“Watch the storm and when you see a flash of lightning, start counting slowly. Stop when you hear the rumble of thunder. Do it every time, and if you are able to reach a higher number the second time, then it’s going away from you. If on the other hand, your count is short before hearing the rumble, it’s coming toward you.”

Miko watches the storm and waits for a flash of lightning. Flash! “1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8.” Boom!

Miko looks over toward James who says, “Now, if your next number is a 9 then the storm is moving away, if it’s a 7 then it’s coming closer.”

“What if it’s the same?” he asks.

“Then it’s most likely moving across the horizon, neither toward nor away from you.”

“That makes sense,” Miko says and once again looks toward the storm. Flash! “1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8… 9” Boom! Smiling he turns toward James, “It’s moving away!” he exclaims happily.

“Maybe,” concedes James. “However you should wait a few minutes before trying it again, some storms cover a wide area and the lightning could appear within different areas of the same storm.”

Miko sits anxiously by the fire, counting to himself in-between flashes. “James,” he says after several minutes of counting.

“Yes?” answers James.

“Couldn’t you do magic to make the storm not come over here?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” he replies, “but that would be selfish of me.”

“Selfish?” asks Miko. “What do you mean?”

“If I were to move that storm so it passed us by, then I could also be moving it away from farms that desperately need the rain for their crops to grow. That could cause hardship on people for my own comfort. No, I refuse to influence the weather for so selfish a reason as that.”

“Not many people consider others before themselves,” says Miko.

“I found that to be true where I come from too,” James agrees. “You have to live by your principles, in all things. If you don’t, then there is no limit to how far you may stray.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Miko replies.

Flash!

James looks over and can see Miko silently counting till the crack of thunder.

Boom!

“What’s the count?” he asks Miko.

“Still 8,” he replies, looking relieved. “Looks as if it’s going to miss us.”

“Whether it will or whether it won’t, we need to turn in,” James says as he throws a couple more logs on the fire to keep it going further into the night. “We still have a long ways to go.”

Miko settles down in his blanket, drawing it over him as he continues watching the storm. James lies there as well, thinking about Willimet and how Miko probably stopped him from doing something stupid. It isn’t long before Miko begins to snore. He looks over toward the storm, watching the lightning as it flashes in the night, still concerned about it moving this way. Finally, he drifts off to sleep.

The morning dawns dark, the sun unable to pierce the dark clouds stretching from horizon to horizon. They awake to blankets damp from a light sprinkle that fell during the night. Not enough to soak but enough to make everything wet. The thunder storm has long since passed, for which Miko is very grateful. Taking just enough time for a quick breakfast, they are soon on the road.

Shortly after they head out, a light rain begins to fall. They break out their ponchos that they acquired some time earlier in Cardri.

The rain continues all morning, with a kind of an on again off again pattern. The cloud cover remains constant, with nary a break to allow the sun through. A little before noon, the rain begins increasing until it becomes a steady downpour that soon turns the road into mud, and the ditch running alongside into a small stream.

“I hate the rain,” complains Miko. “Can’t we find someplace to wait it out?”

Glancing around at the endless grasslands extending in all directions, James says, “Where would you like to start?”

Looking sullen, Miko hunkers down in his poncho and stays quiet.

With no great desire to stop in the rain, they eat their meal in the saddle, stopping only shortly to give the horses grain and a break from their weight. Later on as the day progresses, James notices what looks to be a caravan stopped in the road ahead. By the number of wagons, it’s a big one.

“Maybe we could ride in a wagon and get out of the rain?” Miko suggests, looking hopeful toward James.

James shakes his head, “They would be too slow and I seriously doubt if they would let strangers in with their goods.”

As they approach the caravan, things begin to look a bit odd. First of all, the wagons weren’t moving. As they draw closer, James begins to see why; none of the wagons have any horses.

“Trouble,” he says to Miko.

“What are we going to do?” Miko asks.

“See if we can render aid, they may have been hit by bandits,” he says as he quickly brings his horse toward the end wagon. “Keep your eyes open and holler if you see anything.”

Approaching the rear wagon, they find the driver slumped over, two arrows protruding from his back. Cautiously moving alongside the wagon train, they make their way toward the lead wagon. More dead drivers begin to appear, either slumped over on their wagons, or lying upon the ground next to them. Near the center of the column they come across twelve slain guards, testimony to a battle which had raged here. Their bodies were hacked and stabbed, many having been pierced with arrows.

Proceeding on, they continue toward the lead wagon where they discover a man who obviously must have been the merchant in charge of the caravan if his fine clothes were any indication. Six arrows protruded from his lifeless body and his lifeless hand still grips the stock of a crossbow. He didn’t go down without a fight.