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.