The Journeymen

A Dash For Dumas

"Come on, George. Keep it up buddy."

Thundering across the prairie at full tilt, Jack carried his limp apprentice on his faithful horse. She sat in the saddle in front of him but was completely unable to support herself. One arm around her waist, the other holding the reins, the trio of desperate travelers raced on.

They were alone, Evan having stayed behind with the guardsmen to ensure that not a single goblin or man escaped. The master Journeyman hoped to be able to capture a surviving man from Gabe's company and he knew that would be unlikely to happen if he was not present.

Almost immediately after her eyes opened, Anya had again been unresponsive, her eyelids fluttering weakly. She mumbled unintelligibly as Jack and Evan worked to treat her wounds. The two men only understood one thing from her muttering.

"I'm sorry."

What she was sorry for, the two men did not know. Evan applied elastic pressure bandages to both the entrance and exit wounds from the bullet that had torn through her calf. Jack worked to make sure that she would not choke on the blood from her bloody, broken nose. He held her head on its side, supporting it in his hands.

"Evan, what's wrong with her eyes?" Jack asked, looking up briefly from his work to the more experienced magic wielder.

"We need to get her back to Dumas. To Liza and the healers. She overexerted herself with whatever magic she used to tear apart this guy. Eyes only do that when someone has pushed themself too far. They must be green because she did it with something living. Get her to the city. George is strong, he can handle you both," he said, as he stood to put Anya into the saddle.

A mounted guardsman, the private who had brought the news of the camp the day before, waited, holding the reins of the two master Journeymen's horses. Jack had taken Anya into his saddle and left without even a word. He had to save her. She had pushed herself too far because he had not been there to protect her. He would not lose another friend.

George continued his gallop, his powerful legs tore through the golden grass and dusty dirt of the flat earth. Jack found the same old road that he, Chuck, Anya, Liza, and Gabe had followed into the city on the day that the murderous wizard's plan fell perfectly into place. The meeting that had been called, bringing half of the governing body of the Journeymen to their deaths.

The clopping sound of galloping hooves echoed out across the surrounding farmland as he rode on. Farmers looked up as he thundered past, tradesmen and travelers cursed him as he burst by with no warning other than the sounds of a horse pushed to his limit.

Frothy foam hung at the edges of the loyal horse's mouth, sweat gathering across his wide, powerful chest as he galloped. George understood his master's desperation. Somehow without Jack being able to truly communicate with the horse, the mounted man knew that his loyal friend understood.

Anya's head lolled back, her green eyes half open. Using the side of his face, he pushed her head forward. Along with the magical strain, she was still severely injured and ran the risk of choking on her own blood. Jack's camouflage boonie cap whipped off as he changed the position of his head and he rode on.

He reached the entrance to the city and the guards, recognizing the two who shared the saddle, cleared the way as they burst through the gates. Waiting there, to Jack's surprise, was Liza. She looked immaculately dressed and put together as always but concern and worry was carved into her magical cosmetic covered face.

"Liza, Anya needs help," Jack said, pulling Anya with him as he leapt from the saddle. George panted and wheezed as his mad sprint was now finally over.

Running up, the alchemist looked to a nearby guard, and shouted, "Get your healers! Why aren't they already here? They knew wounded would be coming back!"

"Yes ma'am!" shouted a guard as he hastily mounted a nearby horse and turned to gallop through the gathering crowd.

Jack placed Anya on the ground and he and Liza knelt beside her.

"What happened?" Liza asked, placing a hand on Anya's sweat soaked brow and closing her eyes as she focused.

"Left lower leg gunshot wound with veinous bleeding, broken nose, and then her eyes are a different color. Evan said it was from magical over-exertion," Jack said hastily, looking up at the enchantress.

Liza opened her eyes to look. Pulling the lids back on Anya's fluttering eyes, she gasped, "Oh god. What did she do?"

"I don't know but there was a man near her when I found her. He was torn apart," he said.

Liza closed her eyes and focused again, pouring magical energy into the limp young woman, "I had no idea she was capable of something so powerful. Whatever it was, the amount of energy she used would have killed me. We need to get her to my house."

***

Hours passed as Liza sat over Anya. Evan had returned with the rest of the assault team, weary and blood-soaked. Jack and Evan had done everything they could to help, focusing on healing her physical wounds as best as they could but the alchemist almost dangerously overworked herself as she struggled to heal the magical trauma. Liza described it as if every cell in the apprentice's body was shriveled and dried up. The enchantress said she would die if she healed Anya completely and only hoped she could stabilize her to the point that her body would do the rest.

Finally, Liza had collapsed out of her chair that she sat in next to Anya's bed. Martin hurried to her side, her usually bright face appearing ashen and worn.

"She's going to make it," Liza mumbled. "I need a nap now, please and thanks."

She then closed her eyes and drifted into a deep sleep. As Evan and Martin moved Liza to her bedroom, Jack could only watch on, stunned. He remembered the outright hostility that had marked the original meeting of the two young women. With the conniving wizard gone, the discord had departed as well. Liza had nearly spent herself completely in service of her new friend.

Thinking of Gabe for the first time since the battle, Jack walked out of the room to find Evan. He became aware that he had not yet confirmed his kill. As the Evan left Liza's room, closing the door behind him, Jack stopped him.

"Please tell me you found the body," Jack asked his comrade in arms. Both men were battered, worn, and still covered in the blood and gore of battle.

Evan's brilliant green eyes met Jack's. The senior Journeyman looked at him gravely, "I couldn't find it. I saw where he went down. There was scorched grass but he was gone."