Roland listened while Ian and Ban filled him in on why they needed his talents. Ian skimped out on some details, leaving out The Seer, Anders, and the Star Chart. When they finished the tale, the glazed look in the mage’s eye was gone, replaced with an unnerving intensity as he processed the information.

“I can tell you are leaving something out, but everyone’s entitled to their secrets,” Roland said. The intense look faded away as he reached his conclusion.

Ian waved his hand in a move along gesture.

Roland glanced to Ban, who nodded, then pushed himself up and tapped his staff against the support beam on his tent. The dilapidated tent and stall began to ebb and fade. Solid, translucent, solid, translucent. With each fading pulse, a little less came back. Soon the only object left was a satchel in the middle of the empty lot. Roland walked over and picked up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’ll help you. But only because I owe Ban for getting me out of a certain legal issue a while back,” Roland said inclining his head at Ban, “lead the way, then.”

“Wait, where’d the crappy tent go? Did you just Merlin it all into that bag?” Ian blurted out before Ban could respond.

“Crappy tent!? That is my house, and I’ll have you know it’s very luxurious! Pshhh, you non-magic types are so small-minded. I’ll have you know-” Roland huffed and puffed out his chest, readying himself to launch into a full tirade.

“Roland!” Ban interjected, “Another world, remember? Be courteous to our guest. Now let us go and collect our elven friend so that we can be on our way.”

Without further ado, the three set out to meet Vale. Ban and Roland in front speaking in hushed tones while Ian followed behind them. Once again, the minotaur earned a wide berth from the crowd thanks to his intimidating horns and over-sized hammer.

“Over there!” A voice boomed out over the crowded path.

Two men stepped out from the flow and directly into Ban’s path. Both men wore blue tunics with shields of white embroidered over the right breast. The shield was quartered by two crossed swords. In the upper left section were three tally marks. Under the tunics, full sets of plate armor gleamed in the sunlight. And to complete the knight look, helmets adorned their heads with visors obscuring their faces.

“You three, halt! Lay down your weapons and be bound! By the laws of the Eternal Accord, you are to come with us!” Shouted the nearest knight, the visor creating an odd echo in his voice.

“What have you gotten me into now?” Roland asked Ban, a sardonic drawl in his voice.

“High Cavaliers,” Ban said to Ian out of the side of his mouth, ignoring Roland.

More armor-clad figures appeared and quickly formed a ring around the three of them. As one they placed their hands on their sword hilts.

“You’ll not be asked again,” said a knight. He had a single tally mark on his tunic, marking him as a Knight-Commander.

“If you are here to bind me then you should know I am a lawyour. Please tell us, for what crimes are we to be bound?” Ban asked, squaring himself off with the Knight-Commander.

“You are wanted for questioning relating to last night’s fires," The Knight-Commander said as he flicked up his visor, revealing a bearded human beneath. “Will you come peacefully?”

Ian raised a questioning eyebrow. Roland leaned against his staff, for all the world appearing to have fallen asleep on his feet. Ban reached his hand back for his hammer. The guards tensed, but Ban pulled the hammer from the back-strap, and set the head against the cobblestone, leaning on it.

“We had nothing to do with that. Under the Second Entitlement of the Eternal Accord, and as a registered lawyour of the citizens of Raxal, I am exercising my right to Deferred Compliance. I’m afraid that my client,” He nodded, indicating Ian, “has more pressing business. I will gladly turn myself and my client over for questioning when we are finished.”

The Right of Deferred Compliance applied to time-critical situations, and it gave the lawyour and his client two days of freedom. Though invoking it came at a cost. If the lawyour, or the client, failed to submit themselves for binding after those two days, the lawyour’s license would be revoked and he would be forced to share the same sentence as his client. It made certain the law wasn’t abused or invoked lightly.

The Captain relaxed a bit, nodding as though he had expected this. The Knight-Commander’s hand flew to his hip and, in a flash, drew his sword. He pointed it at Ban. “I am sorry, but we cannot allow you to invoke that right. You will need to come with us,” he said as he stepped through the ring of High Cavaliers and up to Ban. The Knight-Commander reached into his belt and came back with a set of manacles, “By force if necessary.”

The ring of guards around them drew their weapons, following his example. And the onlookers quickly found other places to be.

Mistake, Ian thought.

Ban’s amicable manner and size had downgraded The Knight-Commander’s opinion of the minotaur's threat. When he came within reach Ban made to hand over his hammer, then hooked the guard’s leg with the hammerhead and yanked. The Knight-Commander went down in a symphony of clanging metal. Ban stepped in, kicking his sword aside, and brought his hammer to rest against the side of the man’s head.

The ring of guards hesitated, seeing their commander in danger and without orders, they were unsure how to proceed. Which made it all the more shocking when they all dropped their swords. The hilts of their weapons were glowing as hot as fire-pokers. Ian glanced at Roland in time to see him slip a flask back into his robe. The mage gave a small shrug.

Ban gave a hard knock to the Knight-Commander’s helmet, stunning him. Then lowered his horns and charged the nearest guard, clearing a path for the others to follow. Roland made an apathetic sweeping motion with his staff and sent a powerful gust of wind ahead of them. It kicked up some of the goods from the stalls around them and incited a surge in the panicked crowd. Vendors screamed obscenities as people descended on the goods like vultures, taking advantage of the chaos. The guards pushed and kicked, trying desperately to restore order but they were being overrun by the mob.

Ian hadn’t noticed Vale. Or the silent communication between Vale and Ban. She’d perched herself on a stack of kegs next to a garden cafe and waited for her moment. Now she was peppering the guards with arrows. They soared with impossible speed, striking with enough force to penetrate the cobblestone path. He could see her goal was not to kill, but to trip, injure, and delay their pursuers. And it was working beautifully. Guards fell, stumbled, and pinwheeled into stalls and people alike. Were he not busy running Ian would’ve found it hilarious.

Once past her position, Vale joined the others. The sounds of metal-clad feet giving chase echoing behind her.

“Split!” Ban shouted as they came to a fork in the path. He and Roland took off to the left. Ian veered to the right with Vale.

“Move! Watch out!” Ian shouted to no avail as they came upon a wall of people. Some stared dumbly, others ignored his pleas entirely.

More High Cavaliers filed in behind them, blocking off the way back. One of them tossed an orb high into the air. The little sphere hung for a moment at the apex of the toss and then rocketed upward. It burst into a brilliant white light overhead. As they ran more spheres joined the first. Casting a stark white light over the Bazaar. A soft electrical hum filled the air.

“Ma’naka!” Vale spat out. “They are sealing the Bazaar. We must go faster!”

Ian found his determination with those words. No longer concerned with discomfort or manners but only survival. He started shoving people out of the way. Those that were too heavy to push, he body checked and aggressively shouted phrases that must’ve made him appear insane.

“Don’t understand what move means? Fine. Tax deduction!” He shoved a visibly rattled orc aside. “Godzilla!” The crowd started to shuffle away from the crazed man. “GOOGLE IT!!”

They were moving faster now, but above their heads, the spheres emitted a flowing white wave of energy. Each time a part of the wave connected with another sphere it increased in speed and intensity.

……

“You have to drink right now !?” Ban’Koliath shouted as Roland took a long pull from his flask.

Roland didn’t respond. He turned and swept his staff in a wide arc behind them, finishing his drink in the process. After another arc of Roland’s staff, a green goo seeped up from the ground flooding the street behind them. Roland pulled the flask from his lips and shoved out with his staff until it stopped, as though it had connected with a solid wall. The goo responded with a rippling wave and then rushed outward. Everyone in its wake became stuck fast as it expanded and filled the path. With a small nod of satisfaction, Roland turned to Ban’Kolaith. The minotaur rolled his eyes, refusing to help inflate the mage’s ego.

As they rounded the corner Ban risked a glance back to see the sap-like goo had hardened and the six guards giving chase were now pulling at their legs, straining to free themselves from the spell. With a triumphant laugh, he put on more speed. The minotaur made short work of anything in their path.

The dome of light overhead began to cascade towards the ground. Reaching behind him he pulled on Roland’s robe, urging the mage onwards. He could see the wall of the Bazaar and put on a final burst of speed.

Roland shouted apologies as he was dragged along by his robes. “Sorry! For once it’s not my fault I swear!”

……

Vale pushed through the gaps created by Ian to pull ahead of him. Turning back now and again she was both, watching Ian and making sure he kept up and shooting a few arrows to harass their pursuers.

Ian felt the brush of a feather across his cheek as an arrow sailed past.

“Hey, watch it!” He shouted as he shoved an orc man into one of the stalls.

Vale’s retort was to send another arrow grazing past his cheek. A guard, who had been about to seize Ian, jerked his hand back with a yelp of pain.

“Fine, you’re forgiven!” Ian said, kicking the guard in the gut and sprinting on.

She grabbed a lamppost and used it to swing herself into a ninety-degree left turn, without losing her momentum. Ian followed suit, albeit far less gracefully. He was thankful for his long legs which were the only reason he’d been able to keep up with her.

“I see the exit,” Vale called over her shoulder.

Ian’s breath was becoming labored from all the running and shoving. He gave Vale a thumbs up with no breath to respond. He could hear shouting from all directions as the High Cavaliers coordinated to box them in.

Vale ducked below another guard’s reach and fired an arrow between his legs. She dove through another guard’s legs as the first one closed in. The pair went down allowing Ian to leap over the pile of limbs.

She nocked an arrow and aimed at a guard coming around the corner. Repositioning at the last second, she shot a tent string. The rope snapped back and entangled the guard’s legs in the process. The sight gave her an idea. She slung her bow on her back and grabbed Ian’s hand.

“I have an idea!” She shouted, a grin plastered on her face.

Ian did not like that grin. It was the grin of someone who was about to play a prank or spring a terrible surprise.

Ahead Ian saw a sprawling circus tent. Thick poles and heavy ropes created the framework of the colossal tent. Vale was heading for a rope that was as thick as Ian’s arm. The rope fed through a pulley above the ample structure holding it up from the center. At the other end, the rope was tied to a peg that went several feet into the ground. All around them guards poured out from the streets and alleys between the tents, boxing them in. Drawing a dagger with her free hand, she rushed towards the tie-down. Her other tugging Ian along.

“Grab my waist and don’t let go,” Vale whispered. Ian did so without giving himself time to think. The moment his arms closed around her slender waist she gripped the taut rope. With a forceful exhale she brought her stiletto down. “Hang on!”

“You can’t be-yee-!” His words cut off as the line snapped taut in Vale’s grip and Ian’s stomach dropped.

“Yaiiii!” Vale let out a wild yell as they vaulted up into the air. Ian clamped on to his tiny elven lifeline as the pair catapulted towards the Bazaar wall.

“Roll with the fall, it’ll hurt less!” Vale shouted over the rushing wind. She let go of the rope as they cleared the gate. After an acrobatic tumble, she landed on her feet.

After letting go of her waist, Ian tried to tuck himself into a roll. He was, putting it nicely, unsuccessful and landed hard and fell into an uncontrolled roll. He came to a sprawling stop at Ban’s feet, panting heavily.

From their spot at the gate Ban and Roland watched the whole performance. Ban took a step back as Ian hit the ground, then bent down to help him to his feet. The white-light dome came down with a thwish and the market was sealed.

“Come on, it will take them some time to get the shield down. We should be well on our way by then.” Ban gave Ian a final assessment and found no serious injuries. He then led the way back towards the safe house.

Roland couldn’t stop laughing the entire way.