Refuge: Kurt's Quest

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Authors: Doug Dandridge
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fire sparking in his eyes.  The shaft
withered away into ash, and the wound, sparking flames, healed.  And Drake
looked with rage out on the soldiers who had injured him.  The men started to
push back, away from the wagon and the alley.  Some more arrows flew in, some
bowmen who thought maybe they could kill the Mage before he could unleash his
fury on them.  Too late.  The arrows converted to ash in flight, the molten
heads falling to the ground, while a wave of flame washed over the soldiers who
had nowhere to escape to.  Scores fell to the ground, burned to death, while
many more were injured by the flames.  Drake’s eyes rolled up in his head in
weakness at the release of power, and he fell to the canvas of the wagon, the
dwarf kneeling beside him, covering the young man with his shield and checking
him for injuries.  The Priest could tell that the young man was still
breathing.  He looked up to see many of the King’s men lying on the ground who
were not.
    *     *     *
    “You ready?” asked Kurt, looking at Jackie as
she sheathed her blades.
    Jackie looked up at the roofline of the two
story building.  Almost all of the buildings of the town were of similar height,
and from here it looked like an easy run along the rooftops back to the gate. 
Or at least easy to someone with the strength and agility of a superhero.
    “I guess so,” she said without much
enthusiasm.  She started to flinch as another bowman appeared over the edge,
drawing back an arrow, before another shaft struck him in the chest and flung
him back from the edge.  She glanced over to see Fenris, already notching
another arrow to his enchanted bow and looking for a target.  A half dozen of
the Duke’s men were also archers, and three of them were also scanning the
nearby roofline for targets.
    “Let’s get this over with,” she told Kurt.
    He gave her a quick kiss, then offered his
linked hands for her to step into.
    Jackie put her right foot into the hands, and
was instantly propelled upwards by the massive strength of the big German.  She
pushed off with her own leg as she reached to top of the assist, and rocketed
into the air, rising up above the roofline and tumbling forward into a flip. 
She landed feet first on the shingles, slipping backward a bit before reaching
down with her hand and steadying herself.
    She looked up just in time to see an arrow
heading her way, and in no position to do anything about it.
    *     *     *
    “We need to get in there,” yelled one of the
noblemen who waited with the army outside the gate.
    And what the hell do you want me to do about it , thought Sir Gromli,
looking at the gate that was closed against them.  It was a stout gate, heavy
oak with iron strapping.  To batter it down would take hours, with archers
picking them off from above.
    “What are we waiting for,” yelled another
noble, this one a Count.  “The Duke is being assailed in there, and here we
sit, doing nothing.”
    Gromli had been left in charge by the Duke,
despite being the social inferior to so many of the leaders of the force.  But
the Duke trusted him above those other people, and so he had been given the
charge.  With the Duke not here, and everyone wanting to act, he was not sure
how much longer he would retain that command.
    [I am sending someone to the gate,] came a
powerful voice into the Knight’s mind.  A column of black smoke was rising from
the center of the city, the sign that fire was being used, natural or magical,
against someone.  [She should be there in a couple of minutes.  Be ready to
storm the gates.]
    She? thought the Knight, knowing it could only be
the dark skinned warrior woman who traveled with Kurt.  Normally, Gromli would
not trust a woman to take the gate house.  But the woman was not a normal female.
    “Everyone,” he yelled out, looking around at
the gathered men, all armored up, dismounted.  “Get your shields ready.  We are
going to storm the

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