Part 24 (2/2)
”There is ample Powder. I have been making it since you told me of the demons.”
”Then give it to me!”
”Patience, young Bora-”
”Oh, the demons devour patience and you too!
Crimson Springs is dying, priest! Can't your Mitra tell you that much, you-!”
”Bora, never abandon patience. I was about to say, that many in the village may well have been sleeping or had their eyes averted when the Eyes appeared. The spell will not bind them.
”Also, I am going down to the village with you. Two of us casting the Powder-”
”Ivram!” Maryam squalled like a scalded cat. ”You're too old to die fighting demons-!”
”Life or death are in Mitra's hands, sweetling. No one is ever too old to pay a debt. Crimson Springs has sheltered us for many years. We owe them something.”
”But-your life?”
”Even that.”
Bora heard Maryam swallowing. ”I should have known better than to argue with you. Am I losing my power to understand men?”
”Not at all, and Mitra willing, you'll have many years to practice it on me. For now, I'd rather you loaded up the mules. Take the shrine, but don't forget clean clothing in your haste.”
Now Bora heard a faint sigh. ”Ivram, I've fled in more haste, and from places I was happier to leave. I've had a traveling pack ready since Bora warned us.”
”Mitra bless you, Maryam, and keep you safe.”
After that Bora heard only an eloquent silence. He hastened down the hill, having already heard too much of the farewell for his peace of mind.
Ivram caught up with him halfway down the hill. For the first time Bora saw the man clearly. He carried his staff of office in his right hand and a straight-bladed short sword on his belt. Over his shoulder hung a bag of richly-worked leather, with images of Mitra sewn in semi-precious stones.
”There's enough Powder in this sack to unbind the whole village, if we just have time,” Ivram said. ”We may. If whoever is casting this spell thinks he has all the time in the world-”
”I once heard Yakoub say that 'if is a word never to be used in war,”
Bora said.
”In that much, Yakoub is wise,” the priest said. ”If this is not war, the G.o.ds only know what it is.” He lengthened his stride, until for all his youth and strength Bora had to strain to keep pace with him.
The Spell of the Eyes of Hahr took all of Eremius's strength and attention. Unguided, the Transformed milled about short of the village, squabbling over the last sc.r.a.ps of the horse and its rider.
Before those squabbles could turn b.l.o.o.d.y, their Master took command again. The human guards had already pressed on beyond the village, to cut off the retreat of any not bound by the Eyes. Eremius sent a firm message to them, not to enter the village.
If you do, you are at the mercy of the Transformed, and you know how much of that they possess!
<script>