Flash Fiction #521 -- The Long Way Home/20

 Rory knew that people tried to grab the horse and stop them, and Jamison cursed and shouted for them to get out of the way. Until then, Rory hadn't been sure who had taken him up on the horse and -- so far -- saved his life.

Rory thought they would break through until he felt a surge of magic. He hadn't the strength nor the time to counter it --

The horse stopped and nothing more, except that the men stepped away in haste.  

"Are we far enough?" Jamison asked, frantic to get the horse moving. "Rory --"

"Safe, I think," he said, gasping as he tried to slide gracefully from the horse.

It didn't work, of course. Rory tumbled down; if the horse hadn't been still, it would have trampled him. Jamison did kick him as he got down.

Being still brought several items to the forefront of his thoughts. First, this army was from home -- from Sundry. Second, he knew the feel of this magic --

"Roridan."

And he knew that voice. He rolled over and crawled out with a hardly concealed sigh (resting under the horse had at least been still). His arm gave out when he tried to push upward to stand, and he ended up face down in the dirt.

He rolled over and blinked as Temple Master Pyrida came into focus. He had been right.

"Sir," he said but didn't try to stand, even when Jamison offered his hand.

"Outrunning death again, are you?" the man said with a raised eyebrow.

"Out ride, I hope, thanks to my friend. I did not expect to see you here, sir."

"I thought I would not see you again at any place."  He nodded when Jamison knelt to bandage Rory's wounded arm. "Tell me what you have learned."

Rory sat still for a moment and pulled all the threads of his story together. He related it with as few embellishments and winces as he could manage. Temple Master Pyrida's eyebrows rose more than once, but he said nothing.

"Euriday and Sciwen patrols ahead of us?" Pyrida said at last. "I don't hear the battle."

"They were preparing to have dinner together," Jamison offered.

Movement and voices stopped. Rory looked at Pyrida and nodded, glad that Jamison had provided that information. He didn't think he had the brain power to make sense of it.

Another rider was coming fast from their direction. Rory prepared for more trouble since thee had been so much of it lately. He recognized Zorian, though, and half sagged against Jamison in relief.

"He's dead," Zorian announced and then looked around as if he had only now noticed the others. "What's this? Sundry soldiers? This is insane."

Rory nodded in agreement.

Then he noticed the man standing just a little behind Temple Master Pyrida and to the right.

"Prince Palkin," Rory said with a proper bow of his head.

Jamison gave a startled and belated bow, and Zorian only a slight nod as he came off the horse, still too startled by the soldiers. He grabbed Rory and held him up as if he couldn't stand on his own two feet.

He was right.

However, this left Jamison free to deal with his own prince.  Palkin signaled him aside, and Jamison tried not to look worried as he went to talk with the man.

Pyrida still looked Rory over with a slight shake of his head. "I suspect you have become too involved in this work, Roridan.   I intend to send you back to the temple."

Rory looked the man in the face. By rights, he should have bowed and accepted without comment.

"Are you going to explain it to the Queen?" he asked.

Pyrida frowned. The man could strip him of his place in the temple and of his powers. People did not question the Temple Master.

"You seem to believe you can do some good."

"I don't know that I can," he admitted. "However, I do believe I have helped already. I also seem to be the only one of our people, except yourself, who is caught up in the middle of whatever this mess might be."

"There is that fact. However, you also look half dead, boy."

"I had a close encounter with an assassin, who, by luck, did not expect me to attack him. I don't know who the man had meant to attack."  He stopped and looked up at Zorian.  "Any ideas?"

"None, except he might not have liked allying with the Sciwhen. He died without a word, and no one claimed to have seen him before two days ago."

Rory looked back at Pyrida and Prince Palkin.  "I suggest, gentlemen, that we go join the others. They most likely know far more than the three of us."

Zorian and Jamison both nodded in agreement. Prince Palkin agreed first, and the others didn't argue. The soldiers wearily formed up in lines, and Rory road with Jamison again. They spoke little, and Jamison said nothing about his conversation with Prince Palkin, and Rory thought he might be slightly tense, too.

There was no telling what kind of trouble this was going to bring. They'd gotten lucky so far, and Rory had to believe this would be no worse than the other collections of soldiers.

He was too worn to really care anymore. He might even have slept a bit on the way back to the other camp. It seemed far more distant than he had expected. What did surprise them with how pleased everyone was to see him alive.

The others planned to have a meeting after an evening meal. Rory agreed, but he fell asleep long before the food was done. He did not wake again until the following day. He blinked at the bright light, groaned at the massive headache, and sat up with a barely concealed curse, remembering that Temple Master Pryida was somewhere around.

So was Jamison, and he didn't look happy.

Flash Fiction # 520 -- Ten Years! (Drabble)

 "I DID IT!"

The giant plot bunny's scream sent cats flying.  

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm working on The Long Way Home --"

She shook her head, ears flopping.  "520.  Ten years."

Musette was right.  I moved episode 20 down a week and wrote about the achievement.

"I'll be famous forever!" Musette declared.  "A flash fiction every week for ten years!"

"I wrote --" I began.

She  stared into my eyes.  Did I see madness there?  "I could take a trip.  Maybe find someone who appreciates --"

"Good work, Musette. Let's get back to writing.  You'll be even more famous at twenty years."

Flash Fiction #519 -- The Long Way Home/19

 Rory looked frantically from one side of the road to the other, trying to decide if he had enough strength to pull everyone out of the way in one fast sweep. Would he have better luck knocking down soldiers on one side or the other? Could he make a shield to stop --

"Halt!" someone in the Euriday troops shouted. "Lay down arms."

The Euriday army put their weapons at their feet. Everyone stared in a moment of silent shock.

"Retreat twenty."

They retreated with almost the same precision they had used before the confrontation. One man remained behind, though, and Rory guessed who he was before Jamison confirmed it.

"General Unanik," Jamison said, taking one step away from his own group. "I won't begin to guess what is going on."

The Schiwen soldiers had at least lowered their weapons.   Not a trusting group, Rory guessed. He kept himself still, standing sideways between the two groups and ready to do something.

"Jamison," Unanik said with a shake of his head. "How in the name of the Gods did you get here and ahead of us -- and without getting killed by the others?"

"Others?" a woman asked as she crossed from her troops.

"There are several companies of Euriday soldiers in the hills around us," Unanik explained. "I assume you are General Junal? I'm General Unanik. I sent you messages, and I assume some got through, or you wouldn't be here."

She gave a quick nod. The two walked off together, which seemed uncommon trust. Rory watched them for a moment and then put a hand on Andora's arm, drawing her attention.

"I need to sit down now," he said. His legs were already going. "Just sit for a while."

"Sit," she agreed and helped him down.  

He almost fell face-first into the dirt, but Zorian caught his shoulder. He sat as well, and so did Jamison and Keltrina.  Rory almost protested, but at least it would make them look less like trouble -- unlike the two armies still facing each other.

He closed his eyes...

"Priest?" a woman said close by.

Rory opened his eyes. He'd rested for a while, but not nearly long enough. He had trouble lifting his head to look at the woman towering over him.

"General Junal," he finally said with a bow of his head. "Can I be of any help?"

"That's what we're going to find out. Come with me."

Rory struggled to his feet with help from Zorian.  Keltrina slept, and Jamison already stood with Unanik. He hoped he had enough ability to think that he could give cognizant answers. Rory thought a couple hours had passed. This could not be the safest place to rest.

"Priest," Junal said as they joined the others. "Let's get straight to the point. What can you do to help us?"

"I can move small numbers of people at great speed for a short distance. I can create illusions for a short time."  He almost lifted a hand to create a deer -- but the others were all too nervous for something that showy. "I have some power with weapons, but there is a serious backlash. If I injure someone, as long as I am within a couple miles, I will feel that wound. If they die while I am too close, I will also die."

"That's what happened when you attacked Poltin," Jamison said with a nod. "I thought it was just a reaction from moving so quickly."

"That as well."  He stopped to brush both hands through his hair. "I would not be much help for a large group. I might create illusions or perhaps bring up a wind for a short time, but no more than that."

Junal and Unanik gave almost identical nods.

"I have one question if you don't mind?" Rory said, and they both gave tentative nods. "Do either of you know where Prince Palkin might be?"

"We had rumors of him leaving Sundry before we heard about the death of the King. He could be anywhere," Junal admitted, and even she sounded worried. She paused for a moment and stared at nothing in particular. "That means you are best used away from us."

"Perhaps so," he agreed. "And besides, I do have loyalty to my own queen."

"I suppose we should count it good that we're at least allies," Junal said and sounded sincere. "I do not intend --"

Whatever she had meant to say was cut short by a yell from the area where the Euriday troops were still gathered. A horse came galloping through the group, scattering them to each side.

The rider had a sword ready. Rory wasn't sure who the target might be, and he had no time to find out. He simply moved so fast that he didn't even startle the horse before he grabbed the man who tumbled from the saddle.

Then things got out of hand.

Rory had tried to knock the sword away from himself, and he caught the blade's edge with his forearm. It was not a bad cut but painful. Far more painful was the sword severing the other man's arm at the shoulder.

The man screamed. Rory didn't have the breath to make a sound. Agony rushed through his body --

"Damn!" Jamison shouted. "Grab the horse! We need to get Rory away!"

Going to die, he thought. They couldn't keep the man alive, not long enough. Going to die --

Someone threw him across the saddle. A hand caught his collar, and the horse moved. It was fast and painful. He couldn't breathe and wasn't sure if that came from dying or bouncing on the horse.

They kept riding. Fast. Rory feared broken ribs ... and feared dying less. The horse continued to run, following the curve of the road, across a bridge --

And straight into another army, scattering angry men everywhere.

Sale!

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/zetteG

 

Flash Fiction #518 -- The Long Way Home/19

 The others told him a few more things, most complaints from the troops. Supplies had not arrived, and they'd not prepared for a march of this length.

They did not want to go up against the Sciwen troops.

"Some wisdom there," Andora said with a smirk. Rory laughed.

"What can you tell me about Unanik, Jamison?" Rory asked. " He wasn't someone I paid that much attention to since I arrived. I thought he was an office general and not out on the lines."

"He was still active ten years ago," Jamison said. "However, he and the King fell out over a battle that went bad. Hardly more than a skirmish with the Atrians. Something else was happening, and it may have had something to do with the Queen."

People rarely spoke about the Queen. According to official reports, she had retired to the royal lands in the south, which were better for her health. This new knowledge, though, hinted at a scandal barely hidden.

He was not in a position to find answers. The others looked as surprised, too.

"You think Unanik is working with the Queen," Rory said. "Do we need another player?"

"Just trying to make sense of Unanik being here, though I have no idea what he could intend to do."

"Make trouble. Add to the confusion. We need to find out where Queen Shi is," Jamison said and looked around as though the answer was hanging from a tree. "She's been gone and quiet for a long time. I never even considered her when the King died. I thought only of the two princes."

"We all forgot her," Keltrina said. "A worse mistake for me since she is my father's cousin. I saw her a couple of times at court, but we never visited after she went to the estate. I realize now that my father must have known she was in exile, not ill, and it would be impolitic to do more than send a wish for her recovery."

Rory made a sound of agreement. He wasn't even sure if his own Queen had links to her. At any rate, no one had mentioned the Queen as part of his assignment.

He had arrived to protect the ambassador and his entourage, but he'd failed in that work. The reminder made him stumble a little, but he recovered and kept going in silence. He had done nothing wrong in any of this, and he should have been able to reach his charges in time.  

What if they were all wrong about Kellic?

"I think we need to find somewhere safe for a few days and have time to think," Rory said. "I want to go over the rest of the paperwork. I remember a few references to General Unanik, but I paid little attention."

"That was in the written part, not the code," Keltrina pointed out.

"Yes, you're right. I need to go over everything."

"I'll find you somewhere to rest for a few days," Andora said. "But that means my people will want to talk to you."

"I have nothing to hide from the people of Sciwhen."

"Good. The post is on about a mile away."

After another turn in the road, they could see the post ahead. Rory thought there couldn't be more than a dozen guards there, and they would never be able to hold back the Euriday troops.

Andora jogged on ahead at the last quarter of a mile. Rory had a moment of mistrust, but it passed. A few of the women greeted their fellow soldier with shouts of pleasure. They knew Andora, and that would help.

By the time the others had reached the post, the jubilation had disappeared. They had learned what they faced coming somewhere not far behind Andora and her odd companions.

"Pull back to the man camp. Do it on my orders, Intesia.  Get your group there as fast as possible and warn General Junal or whoever she left in charge. Go, go, go!"

All but two of the border guards took off at a run. Andora didn't argue with them. Unfortunately, there were no horses, and she frowned at the corral.

"Junal sent for the mounts," one of the women said, seeing where Andora had looked. "Last night. There is too much going on."  The woman looked at the group of men following them.

"There is a lot of trouble out there, Ropren. We need all the information we can gather."

Rory was glad to see no one argued with her. He wasn't sure if Andora had rank or if they simply trusted her to do the right thing. He said nothing to challenge her authority, even though he had more questions with every step. Jamison held to his wife, who looked exhausted. Zorian appeared more curious than worried.

Soon they were all worried. They could hear the sound of boots marching up the road. Rory almost suggested they hide or he used magic, but best, he realized, that they get more help. His magic would not hold up for long now.

They moved faster. Rory moved to help with Keltrina, but Zorian took her up in his arms and moved out ahead at such a fast pace that the rest had trouble keeping up with him.

A turn and another turn. Rory began to pant, the roaring in his ears loud enough that he could not hear the enemy behind them and dared not try to look back, or he would fall. He'd not regained enough energy.

Rory wasn't likely to get a chance for it soon.

Movement ahead. Rory and his friends came to a stumbling stop at the sight of Schiwen soldiers moving forward in good formation, ready for the trouble.

When Rory looked back, he saw the Euriday troops moving much the same way.

While Rory and his friends were caught in the middle.

Flash Fiction #517 -- The Long Way Home/17

 "Eket priest," Andora said, as though she only now remembered what they had discussed on the journey.  She paused, looked at the group, and then nodded.  "We go on."

Rory would have gone on alone anyway and wondered if that might not have been a better idea.  Why hadn't he considered it?

Too late now.  Rory didn't try to dissuade the others.  Besides, they'd come this far and faced a lot of dangers, and this was probably less dangerous than their escape by boat.

Rory had time to prepare to use his magic this time.  He gathered it up in many strings and tied them to his companions.  By the time he finished that first stage, he was already feeling weaker.  However, it would only take a single thought to hide them all.  He explained it.  Then they continued on straight down the trail the soldiers had made.

It didn't take long to catch up with them.  Euriday, beyond a doubt, and not particularly happy ones.  

"Hold on to each other," Rory reminded them yet again.  "That's how you'll be able to see each other, but no one else will see us.  Quiet, though.  And remember that we can still cast shadows, so if anyone looks our way with interest, just freeze.  I plan to take us along the shadows of the trees as much as I can."

"Listen for anything about why they are here," Andora added.  She took hold of Rory's hand.  He would have rather had Jamison there, but only because he knew Jamison better.  

Rory went first, Andora after him, then Jamison, Keltrina, and Zorian.  They made quite a line.  Rory wanted to rush through the camp, but they came here for a reason.  It would have been easier to find a way around this mass and maybe only deal with an outer guard.  This way, they all hoped to hear something helpful.

Because it seemed that every day they found more questions and not a single answer.

Rory was careful of where they went, moving from one spot to the next, staying away from the cooking fires that might have cast shadows, and trying to spot someone of rank.  They were all in a meeting in the single tent, he suspected.

So he kept moving, listening, and heading for the darkness ahead.  The sun had gone down, and they would soon be out beyond the sentries.

The others were no trouble at all.  They followed Rory, and he took them down the road in silence, well past the sentry -- but the road was straight and the moon already up.  Rory didn't dare drop the magic until they were well out of sight.  Either he had to go to where the road dipped and turned- a couple miles ahead- or he needed a deer path or some other opening in the hedge-like growth.  He wasn't sure he could make one for them.  The tingle of magic had started to become painful.

"Rory?" Andora said.

She could feel the clammy dampness to his hand and probably knew he trembled.  Keeping this many people invisible for so long was not easy.  He had to go --

Amanda grabbed his shoulder with her other hand and turned him toward the bushes.  He looked back, saw no sign of the sentry just then, and dropped the magic just in time to use another spell to spread branches silently back.

The others scrambled through at his signal, and he followed.  The opening wasn't very deep, so he let the one behind them close and opened the second, following them to a tall old tree.

And everything went black.

Sometime later, he knew he was moving, even though he wasn't walking.  He forced his eyes open and saw an array of branches and leaves swirling over his head.  His shoulders and feet hurt.  So did his back --

People carrying him.  It hurt.

"Put me down," he ordered, though softly.  He had that much sense left, fearing what might be near.

They quickly obeyed -- Zorian and Andora.  Rory could tell they'd carried him for some distance.  He could not, however, get any sense of where they were or which direction they were headed.

All of them sat down by him.  Rory started to protest, but he could see they were all worn.  They kept silent for a moment, and then Andora nodded.

"No one around," she said but still spoke softly.  "We went several miles northeast, and we're heading back west hoping we can reach the Sciwhen outpost at the border before they are attacked.  If we are lucky, they'll have some horses for us."

Now that sounded helpful.

They were going again after just a few bites of food and a few sips of watered wine that Zorian provided from his pack.  It helped.  Even so, Rory felt unsteady on his feet and gave Jamison a look of apology when the man caught him before he fell.

"My apologies," Rory said with a sigh.

"You saved us," Jamison reminded him.  "More than once.  I never realized  how much I like to think we could have managed without magic -- most people do, even in dangerous situations -- but I'm too aware that you kept us alive."

Rory waved that away.  "Just another tool to use.  Did you hear anything while we went through the camp?"

"First, they didn't plan to move until dawn," Keltrina reported.  "So we've just kept moving in hopes of getting there first."

"And they were not happy," Andora added.  "Kellic's name came up a few times.  Not, by the way, as King Kellic.  General Unanik is in charge of the troops on this border."

"Unanik," he said and looked to find Jamison glancing his way in anticipation.  "Not someone who likes Kellic, and that might be the only reason he doesn't use the title of king."

"Do you really think it is that easy?" Jamison asked.

"No, of course not.  There is too much going on."