Jim got up quickly leaving Sinda on his back, confused. ‘Why didn’t you kill me?’ he asked.
Jim Dasher reached around his neck and pulled something off. He tossed it to Sinda and said, ‘I am not your enemy. None of the men you hold is your enemy. If you let us, we will help you survive. But I need to warn my people of what we saw on the beach, for that black sorcery means more pain and death than you want to imagine is coming to these shores. No one else will try to escape. Let them help you while they wait.’
‘Wait for what?’ asked Sinda.
‘For your leaders to decide to kill them or let them live. Now see to your friend.’
Almost as quickly as an elf, he vanished into the gloom, leaving the confused Sinda considering what he had just heard. The elf looked at the object that had been tossed to him and his eyes widened. In the faint light his elven vision easily made out the design. This was no forgery, but a genuine token given to an elf-friend by the Queen of the Elves.
Sinda helped his companion to his feet. The worst of the pain had passed, but both elves knew that the venom of the mossback lizard would slowly reduce the victim to a vague and listless state, followed quickly by death. It was an effective poison, but easily cured, if one had the antidote. Sinda put his arm around his companion’s waste, pulled the staggering man’s arm over his shoulder and began to return to Baranor.
CHAPTER EIGHT - Threats
MIRANDA RAN.
The alarm had sounded almost instantly accompanied by shouts from the hallway. She had been resting in the suite set aside for her by the Emperor, waiting for a summons to the imperial apartments within the palace for a meeting with the Light of Heaven. Dozens of servants and Imperial Guards ran to answer the clarion call. The signal was unique, for only one such rare metal trumpet existed in the Empire, and it was used to warn the Emperor when he was in danger.
Miranda didn’t need to be told that dark magic was involved: she could feel it making her skin crawl and there was the illusion of a foul stench in the air as she approached the entrance to the imperial apartments. The giant wooden doors were closed, their ancient carved surfaces being hammered at futilely by a dozen guardsmen. ‘Stand aside!’ shouted Miranda.
Several of the soldiers hesitated, but the servants all moved away. The sight of a black robe, even if it wasn’t truly black but a very dark grey, and the commanding presence of any magic-user, evoked years of conditioning, and several bowed their heads and said, ‘Your will, Great One.’
The soldiers followed suit, and Miranda raised her hands. Thinking this was not a time for subtlety, she focused her mind on the great hinges and willed the stone in which they were set to become dust. Then with a shout to focus her thoughts, she extended her hand, as if pushing something away, and the air before it rippled as energy coursed through it, striking the massive doors like an invisible battering ram. They fell backwards, slamming into the stone floor of the imperial quarters with a thunderous crash. Before the echo diminished, the soldiers were through.
Miranda turned to the servants. ‘Stay back. If you are needed you will be called.’
She hurried after the soldiers and had no trouble discovering their objective. A searing wave of heat washed over her as she entered the long hallway leading to the lush gardens. The soldiers before her faltered as the heat washed over them, then redoubled their efforts. She heard screams and shouts ahead as she hurried towards the conflict.