"Should we?" Jiron asks him. "I don't trust him to be honorable."

"No, I don't either," agrees James. "But if it holds off an immediate attack, perhaps I should go and see what he has to say." Turning to Miko, he says, "You stay here."

"Okay, James," replies Miko.

As he moves out to meet with Abula-Mazki, Illan and Jiron join him. He can see that the warrior priest did not come away unscathed from his ordeal in the catacombs. His face is horribly marred and his armor looks to have been crushed and then reshaped. Strong indeed must the magic of Dmon-Li be to allow him to survive such punishment.

Both parties come to a stop once they're ten feet away from each other. The Chief of the Grey Wolf clan looks with undisguised hatred at James.

"Abula-Mazki," begins James. "What an unexpected pleasure."

"I'll make this simple," the warrior priest says. "I want the one carrying the Star, the rest can go free. Resist, and you'll all die!"

Pulling out the Star, he shows it to him and asks, "Why is this so troubling to you?"

Abula-Mazki's eyes lock on the Star as he replies, "Priest of Morcyth, I'd strike you down now if I didn't need you alive!"

James contemplates the situation quickly and comes to the conclusion that there's no way their party will be able to withstand the combined might of the clan riders and the magic of Abula-Mazki. Either one by themselves, maybe, but not together.

Then an idea begins to form in his mind, one he doesn't care too much for, but there may not be another way, "I have a proposition for you."

"What is it?" Abula-Mazki asks.

"I propose we each chose a champion to decide the outcome," explains James. "If yours wins, I go with you willingly. If mine wins, you allow us to continue, unhindered."

A smile spreads across his face as Abula-Mazki listens to him. "Swear upon the Star, Priest of Morcyth, and I'll agree to your proposal."

Holding the Star high, James says, "I swear to go with the warrior priest Abula-Mazki should his champion win."

"Very well, priest," he says. "I agree."

"Give us a few minutes to prepare, and our champion will return here to this spot," James says.

"You have ten minutes, no more," he warns him.

Nodding, James replies, "That is agreeable."

Both parties turn around and return to the others waiting for them.

When James, Illan and Jiron arrive, Uther says, "I know how they knew to be here."

Every eye turns to him as James asks, "How?"

Gesturing to the group of riders in the pa.s.s, he says, "If you look, you'll see the man who was outside our door just before we left."

They all turn and sure enough, the man who they'd chased out from in front of their door back at the inn in Seastar is among them. "d.a.m.n!" Illan exclaims. "I thought he was working for Councilman Rillian."

"So did we all," Jiron adds.

"Maybe he was," Yern suggests. "What he'd heard could've been relayed from Councilman Rillian to them."

"True," agrees Illan. "They must've almost killed their horses to get here so fast."

"So what happened?" Fifer asks.

James fills them in on what was said and the deal he'd made. At hearing that, Jiron says, "James, there's no way I can win a fight with my shoulder the way it is."

"Besides," Illan says, "there's only one person he's going to select as champion, and that will be himself. The warrior priests are terrible foes, I don't believe I've ever heard of one being beaten by another living mortal. Who among us could even hope of defeating a warrior priest of Dmon-Li?"

He glances around at the faces looking to him until he settles on one, "Another warrior priest of Dmon-Li."

Staring back into James' eyes, Miko takes a sudden intake of breath. "What? Are you crazy?" He glances around at the others a.s.sembled there and says, "I'm no warrior, let alone a match for someone like Abula-Mazki."

Illan glances from Miko, to James, then back to Miko. His head begins to nod slowly as he says, "Perhaps."

Miko turns his attention to Illan as he says, "You can't be serious!"

"I've seen you fight," he tells him. He gestures at the rest of those gathered there before continuing, "None of us can even hope to match what you do. You're the only choice."

"James," Jiron says to him. "We can't take that chance, not with..."

"I know," he replies. "But that's just what I'm counting on. With it, Miko has a chance to beat him."

The others look confused, not understanding what they're talking about. James turns to Hinney and says, "Give your armor to Miko. I think you're about the same size." As he begins removing his armor, James comes over to Miko and says, "You can do this. There really is no one else."

Miko's eyes show the fear and doubt that he's feeling inside. James leans closer and whispers so only he will hear, "The Fire will aid you. It already has in every battle you've fought."

Coming back to look him in the eye, he says, "I believe you can do it."

"But, what if I lose myself for good?" he asks. "It's been harder each time to come back out of it."

"I won't let that happen," James a.s.sures him. "I promise."

Jorry and Uther come over and begin to help him in putting on Hinney's armor. "Let me have your sword," James says.

"What're you going to do?" Miko asks as he hands it over to him. A pile begins to form at his feet from all the excess equipment they are removing from him in order to make room for the armor. The only pouch he retains is the one containing the Fire.

"Make it stronger, better able to withstand whatever he may do," he replies. He holds the sword out before him and begins concentrating as he readies the magic. Hoping he remembers enough from the shows on television he'd seen about metallurgy and sword making, he lets the magic begin to flow as he works on removing the impurities and strengthening the iron into steel.

He stands there for five minutes as he works on the sword. When he at last feels it's complete, he stops the spell and hands the sword to Illan. "Tell me what you think."

Taking the sword, he tests it for balance and weight, all the while nodding his head approvingly. Then he checks the edge by running his thumb along it. The barest of pressure cuts through the skin and a drop of blood begins to form.

He holds the sword out and then turns to Fifer, "Take out your sword and strike it."

Fifer removes his sword and while Illan holds the sword in a blocking position, strikes it hard. When his sword strikes Miko's, it rings out and Illan says, "Again!"

Strike! Strike! Strike!

Three more times Fifer hits Miko's sword, after the third strike, Illan nods his head and gestures for Fifer to halt. Turning to where Miko stands, now dressed in armor, he says, "This sword is better than any other I've ever seen." Handing it to him hilt first, he continues, "It will serve you well."

"Thank you," he says, taking it. Placing it within the scabbard, he glances to James. "I'm scared."

"I know," he says. Then a horn sounds from those within the pa.s.s and they turn to see Abula-Mazki returning on foot with the clan chiefs. "It's time," he tells Miko.

James, Illan and Jiron accompany Miko out to where the duel will take place. With dread, Miko advances toward the spot where he will meet Abula-Mazki in combat. I can't do this! I can't do this!

When the two groups meet, Abula-Mazki says, "So, who plans to die today?"

"None of us, actually," James says. He gestures to Miko as he continues, "Miko here will meet your champion." Looking around at those with Abula-Mazki, he adds, "And which one of you will be brave enough to meet him?"

The clan chiefs break out into a gruff laugh as Abula-Mazki says, "I had thought this to be a serious match."

"It is," James a.s.sures him. "He is far better than you'd imagine."

Looking upon Miko, Abula-Mazki's expression shows he seriously doubts his abilities. "Okay," he says, "so be it. I will be my own champion for there is no other better than I."

"Just one thing before we begin," James says.

"What?" he asks.

"Should we win," he replies and then points to the clan chiefs, "I want your word they will not attack us. Nor will they try to seek any sort of vengeance against us."

With an amused smile upon his face at the very thought, Abula-Mazki says, "You have it."

"Very well then," says James.

The clan chiefs back away from Abula-Mazki as he draws his sword.

James can feel the p.r.i.c.kling as he calls the magic. He puts his hands on Miko's shoulders and looks him in the eye. Miko looks back with naked fear at the thought of facing him in battle. "You can do this!" a.s.serts James. Then in a hushed whisper, adds, "The Fire will protect you."

"How can you be sure?" Miko asks.

"I am," James replies. "Trust me." He continues gazing at Miko until he gives him a barely perceptible nod.

Miko turns to face the warrior priest. Drawing his sword, he steps forward as James and the others step back.

He watches as Miko closes with Abula-Mazki and begins to notice how his movements are slowly changing, becoming more streamlined and relaxed. The Fire is beginning to take control. The Fire is beginning to take control.

With sword at the ready, Miko waits for Abula-Mazki's attack. When it comes, it's so incredibly fast that no one even realized he'd even attacked before Miko's sword moves and blocks it.

The ringing of the clash of swords slowly dies away, and the clan chiefs begin murmuring among themselves. They cast looks from Abula-Mazki and then over to where James waits with the others.

As he watches Miko and Abula-Mazki begin to circle each other, Illan says, "He might be able to win."

"Let's hope so," James says.

"If he does," says Jiron as he points to the clan chiefs, "do you think they'll abide by Abula-Mazki's word?"

"I doubt it," replies James. "But let's worry about that after Miko wins." He looks to Jiron who gives him a nod.

Clang! Clang!

Their swords move at speeds so fast, the eyes of the onlookers aren't capable of following. Then suddenly, Abula-Mazki disengages and backs up. He looks at Miko with a new found respect. This isn't any ordinary foe, he realizes.

Suddenly, the tingling James has been feeling since the beginning of the match spikes. He tries to call the magic forth to help Miko but is too late. A ball of fire flies the short distance from Abula-Mazki to Miko, and explodes in a giant fireball.

When the smoke clears, Miko is still standing there, untouched. James can faintly see a reddish sh.e.l.l begin to dissipate from around him. He glances to the warrior priest and sees the look of utter amazement upon his face. Smiling in satisfaction, James hollers, "Go Miko!"

Miko doesn't acknowledge his support, instead, he strides forth and begins attacking. With incredible speed, he launches into a series of attacks that Abula-Mazki successfully blocks. But instead of pausing, he keeps on attacking and actually succeeds in making him back up two steps before ending the series of blows.

Enraged at the temerity of this boy, Abula-Mazki lashes out with his magic again and watches as the bolts of energy are deflected by the red tinged barrier. Using an attack combining both magic and sword he goes on the offensive. The magic is countered while Miko's sword blocks the attacks.

At this time, Fifer and the others have come and joined James' group. "Incredible," he says to James as he stands next to him.

"Glad I'm not in there," admits Yern.

A jubilant cry from Abula-Mazki and they watch as Miko's sword goes sailing through the air and lands point first into the dirt ten feet away.

"Miko!" cries James.

Then suddenly, the sword is no longer in the ground, but once again in Miko's hand as he goes on the offensive again. A series of blows has Abula-Mazki giving ground and in disbelief, everyone watches as Miko's sword rips through his armored leggings and slices the thigh beneath.

Miko has drawn first blood!

Abula-Mazki takes a few steps back to gather himself, a strange expression now upon his face. He glances down at the blood beginning to drip from the cut on his thigh. It's not deep and will hardly even slow him down. But to score on a warrior priest, inconceivable! Never has such happened to Abula-Mazki.

He looks at his opponent and sees the glazed look in his eyes, eyes that look as if they see nothing, yet do. His senses tell him that there's nothing magical about this boy, but yet he has managed to counter everything he's thrown at him. For the first time in Abula-Mazki's very long life, he begins to believe he may have met his match.

During the brief pause in the fighting, James takes a look around at the riders who've surrounded them. Relieved to find them still in their original position, he turns his attention to the clan chiefs. The expressions on their faces show the fight is not going as they had antic.i.p.ated. They had thought it would be quick and decisive, now they have doubts as to whether Abula-Mazki will even win. He sees them huddled together talking while at the same time keeping their attention fixed on the fighting.

"I think they're planning something," James says to the others.

"Would they go against the agreement made?" asks Hinney.

"Wouldn't put it past them," he says. "From the little I've been around them, I haven't known them to be all that honorable."

"What should we do?" asks Uther.

"If Miko falls, I'll go with them and hope Abula-Mazki will hold to his word," he explains. "Should Miko prevail, we better be prepared to fight."

"I believe you are correct," agrees Illan.

The clash of swords brings their attention back to the fighting. Abula-Mazki has launched another series of blows which Miko is blocking successfully. A line opens up on Miko's forearm where Abula-Mazki's sword scored. Not very deep, but they can see a small amount of blood beginning to run down his arm. Miko doesn't even act as if he knows he has been struck.

That small victory gives Abula-Mazki an impetus to win the fight. Launching into a series of blinding attacks, he actually manages to push Miko back several steps.

But Miko doesn't move back very far before he begins to go on the offensive once again. In disbelief, Abula-Mazki is beginning to almost not be able to block the blows raining down upon him. How can he move so fast? How can he move so fast? Blow after blow he successfully blocks, but each time he has been almost a fraction of a second too late. Blow after blow he successfully blocks, but each time he has been almost a fraction of a second too late.