Breaking the Flame by Christopher Patterson

Author:Christopher Patterson [Patterson, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rabbit Hole Publishing
Published: 2019-06-06T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 30

Bu rode Warrior, Patûk’s old warhorse. He was surprised when the animal let him mount it. It was mean and angry and bit at anyone who wasn’t Patûk. But he had just stood there when Bu slung Bao Zi over his own horse, tethered the reins to Warrior’s saddle, and then mounted the destrier.

When they reached the camp, now ever growing as more of both Patûk’s and Pavin’s men showed up, Bu called for their healers. Some were just hedge witches and some were trained surgeons, but all were expendable.

“Listen here you gutter shite,” Bu said to the closest healer, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and pulling him close, pointing to Bao Zi, “if this man dies, I will cut off your balls, open up your stomach, rip out your intestines, and hang you with them.”

“But sir,” the man said with a shaky voice, “he is mortally wounded.”

“Save him,” Bu simple replied.

As the healers carried Bao Zi on a litter, the old soldier reached up and grabbed Bu’s wrist, pulling him down. Even near death, the man was incredibly strong.

“I serve you, my lord,” Bao Zi whispered into Bu’s ear. “I serve you.”

Bu stood as they carried the man away and, even though he felt silly for it, gooseflesh rose along his arms. Li still rolled about on the ground, his face marred—left ear gone, left eye gone, left cheek a blackened, cracked mess—and much of his chest and back burned. The two fingers on his right hand had melted together, but he still clutched something, a rolled-up piece of parchment. Bu crouched down.

“I’ve never heard you so excited,” Bu said as the seneschal rolled about.

“It burns,” he groaned in a long, pained, wheezing tone. “Please, it burns.”

Bu thought the man had started to cry.

“I am sure it does,” Bu said. “What is that in your hand?”

“The scroll,” Li replied, good eye closed, body shuddering with pain. “I convinced General Patûk to let me create a copy before he began reading it.”

“Did you now?” Bu asked. “With what intention?”

Li didn’t answer. He just breathed heavy and shook. His flesh had turned a bright red, and much of his chest had begun to blister.

“You are false,” Bu said. “An opportunist indeed. What does the scroll do? I somehow believe you could read it.”

For all of Li’s excitement, still rolling about and crying, Bu was calm.

“Help, please,” Li whined.

“Tell me what the scroll is, first,” Bu replied.

“It is an ancient spell,” Li replied, eye still shut. “It has to do with dragons. What exactly, I don’t know. Part of it is a map … to a weapon—a sword. The wielder becomes powerful. That’s all I could decipher.”

Bu stood. Dragons? Did they still exist? Did they ever exist? And a sword. History was full of stories about powerful wizards who commanded dragons, full of stories about powerful warriors who slew dragons.

“Healer,” Bu said to a single surgeon standing by, “get this man help.”

“Yes sir,” the surgeon said.

As Li was placed on a litter, Bu leaned in towards him.

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