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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1929135-The-Mission
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1929135
A rude awakening for Tosh turns into a run for his life.
1627 Words

He was awakened by a loud banging on the front door.  Tosh opened his eyes and lay absolutely still.  The banging came again this time with more force.  He rolled over and quietly set his feet on the cold wood floor.  Tosh stood and reached for his sword and shield as the bed squeaked slightly. Slowly he shuffled his way towards the door trying to keep the floor from creaking. 

From the stoop he could hear whispers and see shadows dancing in the moon light shining underneath the door.  He began to breathe deeply pushing back the panic that was beginning to set in.  He had come so far without incident and yet here he was sure that he and his mission had been compromised.  Reaching the door he put his ear to the wood frame and held his breath.  “Are you sure this place? Yes now shut-up and keep ready.  If he is not out soon we break down the door.”  The banging began again.

Tosh now knowing he was out numbered retreated.  Setting his sword and shield on the bed he quickly pulled on his pants, put is cloak around his broad shoulders and slipped into his boots.  He opened a leather satchel that hung on the chair next to his bed and removed a small whistle while double-checking the remaining contents.  Re-securing the flap he flung it over his shoulder.  More noise began to come from the doorway; he was running out of time. 

Tosh moved towards the far end of the one room house, crouched down in the shadows and waited.  Within moments a loud thud struck the door and then another.  The destruction continued as the door splintered into pieces and fell open.  Three men in full armor entered the room, swords drawn and moved towards the bed.  Tosh put the whistle to his lips and blew hard in succession three times.  A faint tweet echoed within the room and then fire erupted from the floor between Tosh and his visitors.  The three men jump back away from the heat.  Rising from his hiding place Tosh rushed towards the open door and was greeted by a figure that must have been left to guard his escape route.

The figure, which was actually some sort of half-breed, wore chain mail armor and carried a mace in his right hand.  He was about half the height of a normal man.  His hair was long and brown, his face was green and his ears pointed.  Tosh surprised the creature and never slowed as he plowed his shoulder into his neck sending him back through the doorway crashing out onto the stoop.

Tosh continued out the door.  As he descended the porch he heard a thump and then pain shattered through his right shoulder as he struggled not to fall.  Dazed and trying not to pass out he headed into the night.
 
The air felt good on Tosh’s sweating face as he made his way out into the street.  He looked right and left, the street was empty.  Pausing he looked at his shoulder to see he had been struck by a small dart.  He could not continue much further so he staggered over to the side of the house and knelt down behind a barrel to deal with his wound.  As he did he heard footsteps scrapping on the rocky street.  Without much thought Tosh peered out from behind his hiding place and gave a long blow on his whistle.  A high pitch sound filled the air and within moments knives burst from the area in front of him and butchered his pursuer leaving him dead in his tracks.

The pain was worsening.  He had to attend to his wound and the chaos was increasing as the fire continued to spread throughout the house.  He withdrew a small mouth harp from his satchel and relaxed his mind and his shoulder the best he could.  He blew on the harp which resulted in a low hum.  As the hum increased his body relaxed further and the pain subsided.  He then took out his pocket knife and cut the tip off the dart and removed it from his shoulder.  Again he blew on the harp and again the healing sensation filled his body.  More time was needed but that time would not be now.  Tosh shoved the harp into his pocket and got ready to move on.

The street was now filled with neighbors standing in their night cloths staring at the small house.  The fire had increased to the point that you could hear it burning and shouts echoed through the night.  Tosh chose to move cautiously and stay close to the shadows.  He headed east thinking he could hide in the woods until the chaos died down.  This would also give him time to figure out his next move and fully mend his shoulder. 

He passed by the last house in town and made his way into the dense pine forest.  The noise of the commotion behind could no longer be heard.  The only sound was his footsteps on the forest floor and his rapid breathing.  Moving swiftly in and out of the shadowed moon light he ducked around branches of younger trees and avoided the many smaller bushes.  For several minutes he continued deep into the trees looking for a safe place to rest and gather his thoughts.  Ahead he could make out a rock out cropping; “maybe a cave” he mumbled to himself.
 
As Tosh approached the rocks he began to get the sense that something was wrong.  He stepped behind a large pine and froze.  He could not see anything or anyone yet something was here in this place.  He decided not to chance the rocks and turned to head north when he saw a strange glow ahead in the distance.  The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as the glow moved closer to him.  Tosh began to step back towards the direction which he had come while keeping his eyes on the glow; the light followed.  He knew he should run but somehow he knew it would do no good.  He froze, preparing in his mind what he should do next, as the glow got closer and closer.

He was beginning to get light headed and his shoulder was aching again as he had yet to heal it completely.  His stomach churned at the thought of his present situation, his body now chilled by the cool breeze.  It took several seconds but Tosh began to realize the glow was indeed a person.  As the figure approached he began to understand that he was indeed in a lot of trouble.  The woman was of medium build, but tall.  Her face was ashen white and her flowing hair a dark blood red.  She did not walk but hovered above the ground, black robes blowing in the breeze.  What gave Tosh the insight to his trouble, was her eyes.  Her eyes were bright yellow; she was a witch. 

Fearing for the success of his mission Tosh reached into the satchel and grabbed a small wooden box which he shoved in his pocket.  He then drew the whistle up to his mouth and blew one hard breath.  A bolt of blue lightening burst from the end of the whistle and headed towards the witch.  It struck her right in the mid-section yet she continued to approach, unharmed.  She was now within about 35 feet of Tosh as she raised her hand and threw ball of flame in his direction.  He blew softly on his whistle as the fire ball engulfed his body. The impact threw him to the ground behind a large pine yet he was not seriously hurt.  He now had a sense of how powerful his foe was.
 
As he went about righting himself he dug out a hole in the forest duff with his hand and pulled the small wood box from his pocket.  He casually dropped the box in the hole and covered it with pine leaves and dirt and he stood to brush off his pants.

He faced the witch and smiled who was now within a few feet of him.  “Now if we are done with the formalities hand me the map”, the woman said in a cold voice.  Tosh knew he could not out gun the powerful witch so he said “come and get it” as he held up the satchel and began to blow on his whistle.

Chaos then broke out as a group of knives exploded from in front of Tosh.  The witch easily disposed of the threat with a wave of her left hand.  Her eyes began to glow, a frown covered her thin face and she raised her hands and let loose another ball of flame.  Tosh dove to his left and tried to summon the power of his whistle but he was late and the fire ball engulfed his body.  The last thing Tosh saw was a flash and then pain engulfed his lungs and his limbs.

The witch walked over to Tosh’s smoking body and picked-up the satchel.  She rifled through its contents pulling out a folded piece of parchment.  Studying it she replied, “Thanks for the map young man, it’s a pity that history will never know how hard you tried to protect your people.”  With a grin on her face the witch dropped the satchel into a burning branch, tucked the map into her cloak and walked away into the early morning light of the forest. 

Tosh barely conscious turned his head just enough to saw the witch walk off in the distance.  A smile crossed his lips before he passed on into the light. 

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