Dark Tidings

Chapter 19 - The Flight

Madrick knew they were in serious trouble. They needed to put a decent distance between them and the chicken debacle at The Black Bear, and they needed to do it quick.

"We need the next spell."

"Let me sleep for a while. I need some rest. I can't take any more pain," complained Tung. "Making spells still hurts me bad. My head feels like it's been mashed by a landslide."

"Your head has indeed taken a pounding but not all of it was due to the spell making. Much of your pain was self-inflicted through your own stupidity," said Madrick. "But that can't be helped now. You've got to create a spell which will help us get many miles from this place and you need to do it straightaway because I can guarantee Mifal's men are hot on our heels."

"Stop shouting at me. You'd think this was my fault."

"It is your fault. All this is happening because you're an idiot. Your idiocy has put us in dire danger. You need to make things better."

Making little sniffy noises like a huffy teenager, which is exactly what he was, Tung reluctantly pulled out the Scroll; anything was better than having to listen to the old man moaning. He slowly went through the routine, which was as fast as he could do it. As the spell infiltrated his brain, his body flopped like a rag doll and, this time, Madrick caught his head as he fainted and laid it gently on the ground. Then he had a change of heart, so he lifted Tung's head a few feet off the ground and dropped it roughly.

"You deserve that," he said to the unconscious face which lay below him.

Tung drifted back into consciousness and hardly had time to feel the blinding ache in his head before Madrick was badgering him to describe the picture. He searched his head and found, amongst the throbbing pain, an image; an image of a golden goblet filled with red liquid.

"That's an easy one. It's just a golden wine goblet, not of any interest to us. You need to create it now so we can move on and find something useful"

Tung, in no state to argue, dutifully followed his orders. He said the spell and, to Madrick's credit for not holding a grudge too long, he caught him properly this time as his head headed for the hard earth.

Tung was unconscious, so he didn't see the firebolt flash which heralded the arrival of a magnificent, golden goblet filled with luscious red wine, fit for a king. More alcohol was exactly what they didn't need right now, particularly an unending supply of it. Madrick knew this goblet would continually refill itself, so he dropped it surreptitiously into the ditch by the road before Tung was alert enough to work out what was happening.

"Next spell," demanded Madrick. "Come on. There's no time to waste. Next spell, please."

Over the next couple of hours Tung created six more unhelpful spells. It was like being back in Mifal's dungeon; time was of the essence but the useless spells just kept on coming.

Then, like the last time, their luck changed. As Tung described the image, Madrick became more and more excited. He clapped his hands and made strange but happy guttural noises. Tung didn't know what he'd created but he knew it was good so he punched the air while he waited for Madrick to explain how his latest inception was going to be their salvation.

Madrick couldn't contain his delight and he started his strange little dance again. This time he wasn't restricted by cell walls, strewn banquet food or a mad stallion. This time he had room to express himself and so he did, with gusto. It was even stranger than before, indeed it was bordering on the bizarre.

Eventually he calmed down. The dancing stopped and he hugged Tung.

"You have done it again, my friend. This time you've created the Wings Spell. This enchantment will give you the wings of a giant eagle, wings which will allow us to fly away from this place. Once you lift off into the sky, the wings will be with you until your feet touch the earth again. We can be miles from this sinful town and our pursuers will have no trail to follow. We'll be gone without a trace."

"Gone? Great. And where are we going to be gone to?"

"We'll know when we get there," said Madrick rather profoundly. "Anywhere will be better than where we are right now."

As soon as the spell was said, Tung sprouted magnificent, magical wings. Oh My God. What a wondrous sight to behold, they gave him the look of an angel, albeit an angel who'd recently been out on a drunken rip.

"Hang on," he said as he lifted off into the sky clutching Madrick to his chest.

SWOOOSH. SWOOOSH. No other sounds could be heard as they swept through the air, marvelling at the sights below them. It was spectacular as they glided high over the trees and soared above the great lakes.

"Who'd have thought it? You, Tung, are magnificent and look at us, we've made a clean getaway. They'll never catch us now."

Eight minutes later all three groups of pursuers arrived almost simultaneously at their take off spot... well, two groups plus Gravalar.