The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven

by Brian S. Pratt

  “Very well,” agrees Miko. Getting up, he goes to make sure his horse and things are ready for travel.

  While the others are busy with getting something to eat and seeing to their horses, Jiron comes and sits next to James.

  “Don’t you want to see to your horse as well?” James asks.

  Shaking his head, Jiron says, “Shorty said he’d do it for me.” Biting off a piece of dried beef, he remains silent for a second before he asks, “What do you think happened here?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” he admits. “That I played a part in it is without question.” He gazes at Jiron while he bites off and chews another piece of dried beef. “However, I do think there is more to this than just what I did at the end of the battle. A meteorite falls from the sky and happens to strike at the precise spot that would cause a rip and let in the creature? I hardly think it’s mere coincidence.”

  “Then what?” Jiron asks.

  “I don’t know,” he replies, “and that’s what is bothering me. Something else is going on. That discussion we had earlier where Brother Willim was saying that the gods are becoming more involved worries me.” Gesturing to the glass behind him he continues. “Something like that could hardly have just happened.”

  “You think it has anything to do with Tinok?” he asks.

  Shrugging, he replies, “I doubt it. Maybe if Tinok were someone like Miko who has a god interested in him, maybe.”

  “So what should we do?” Aleya asks as she comes to join them.

  “Listening in were you?” James asks.

  Nodding, she gives him a grin. “Couldn’t help it,” she admits. “You two talk pretty loud.”

  James returns her grin and says, “Continue on as we have been. We’ll keep our eyes and ears open for whatever else may be developing, but we’ll keep looking for Tinok.”

  Jiron sighs. “That’s good,” he says.

  Finishing up with their meal, James allows Jiron and Aleya to help him to his feet and then onto his horse. From behind him he can hear where Scar is explaining to Reilin why the creature turned to glass. “You see,” he explains, “since it wasn’t from our world, it couldn’t survive long. When James torched it with fire, it died. What you see there is simply its bones that were left behind.”

  “Bones?” asks Reilin incredulously.

  “Of course!” states Potbelly as he backs up his partner’s explanation. “You can’t expect something from another world to have the same kind of bones as we do.”

  “I suppose not,” agrees Reilin, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced.

  James smiles to himself and doesn’t say anything.

  “Is that right?” asks Miko from beside him.

  “What?” asks James. “You mean what Scar said?”

  Miko gives him a nod.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” he says, keeping his voice low. “When the creature entered our world, it took on the characteristics of the first thing it came into contact with.”

  “The sand,” interjects Miko.

  “That’s right, the sand,” agrees James. “Where I come from it’s long been known that heat will turn sand into glass. In fact, lightning striking a sandy beach can leave glass behind.”

  “Interesting,” comments Miko. “So Scar is wrong?”

  Grinning, James nods his head. “Of course he is, but I think we should keep that to ourselves.”

  Miko turns back with a grin and glances at where Reilin is hanging onto Scar’s every word. “I suppose it would spoil it.” Then he looks back to James and they both laugh.

  Scar breaks off in the middle of a sentence and turns toward them. “What?” he asks.

  Shaking his head, James says, “Nothing.” Then both he and Miko laugh again.

  When the rest are ready and are about to head out, Zyrn comes forward. “Thank you all again,” he says with sincerity.

  “You’re welcome,” replies James. “Take care.” With that he kicks his horse and soon they are galloping across the sand on their way east.

  Zyrn watches them go. Elated at the demise of the deadly grayness, yet at the same time filled with sadness over what his village has done. Can he ever go back and have things return to normal? That’s the question that has weighed on his mind ever since Khalim was sacrificed.

  But, they are his people, misguided though they were. Deciding to return and try to cope, he turns back to the other villagers and with them begins working out a way to harvest the glass quickly before someone else comes and takes it. With it, his people will not have to worry for a very, very long time.

  When at last the mage and his companions disappear out of sight, he returns to the work at hand.

  For the next several hours James and the rest ride quickly as they circumvent the perimeter of the glass field. Upon reaching the eastern edge, they angle more to the southeast to put distance between it and them.

  When the sun at last reaches the horizon and is on the verge of sinking into night, James calls a halt. Fatigued and tired, the trials of the last twenty four hours have left him on the brink of passing out. Leaving the details of camp to the others, he quickly gets his bedroll and lays it out. In no time at all, he falls asleep.

  The following morning it again dawns clear and sunny, heralding another hot summer day. James is the last to get up. The others had allowed him to sleep himself out, so he woke up several hours after sunrise. A quick meal and they’re once again in the saddle.

  James takes out his cloth and finds that Tinok still lies in the same general direction as the day before, to the southwest. Replacing the cloth back in his pouch, they get underway.

  Cutting cross-country, they don’t make the best time but they don’t encounter anyone either. Late in the morning a village appears before them. On the eastern side of the village lies an orchard of date palms such as they’ve encountered before in the different oasis.

  “Could use some dates,” suggests Potbelly.

  James glances to Jiron who nods in agreement. “Very well,” he says. Angling his horse toward the orchard, he leads them there.

  A farmhouse stands amidst the orchard. The farmer sees them coming and makes his way from the orchard on a course to intercept them before they reach the house. He calls out to those in the house and several lads who are obviously his sons appear and move to join him. In their hands are clutched a variety of weapons including a crossbow. Seems they’ve had problems with strangers before.

  As his sons hurry to join him, the farmer holds up his hand and asks, “How can I help you sirs?” After translating for the others Reilin comes forward and begins haggling for a couple small casks of dates.

  The sons visibly relax once they learn they are here to purchase dates. However, they remain where they are just in case.

  As the others wait for the haggling to come to an end, Brother Willim gazes around at the date trees. “They’re quite healthy,” he says quietly to James. “This farmer is good for the land.”

  “Some are bad?” he asks.

  “Oh yes,” he replies. “Just because a man’s a farmer doesn’t make him a good one.” He continues to gaze around the orchard then his eyes widen and a slight gasp escapes him.

  James notices his reaction and asks, “What?”

  Nodding his head to indicate an area on the edge of the orchard, he says, “Look there.”

  James looks but only sees a pile of leaves and dates lying on the ground. “I don’t see anything,” he tells him.

  “It’s a Vyrilyzk,” he replies.

  “I never heard of that,” James says.

  “It’s an offering to the earth spirits,” he says. Glancing to James he says, “It’s an old custom. Farmers take the first of the harvest, surround it with leaves, and leave it for the earth spirits. It’s supposed to give them a better harvest for the following year.”

  “Does it?” he asks.

  “Oh yes,” he replies. “The little brothers appreciate one who lays out the Vyrilyzk. B
eing earth spirits, they can help the farmer’s trees produce more. You don’t see it much anymore. The earth spirits are shy and are rarely seen so the farmers begin to forget.”

  “Little brothers?” he asks.

  “Yes,” he says. “They are of Asran and I have seen them many times.”

  “So have I,” states James.

  Looking in surprise at James, Brother Willim says, “That is a very rare thing indeed.”

  “It was last year,” he explains. Then goes on to tell about his visit on Lyria’s Island and of seeing the spirits while they sat and listened to her song.

  “Yes, they were earth spirits,” he states after he has him describe them.

  About this time the negotiations between Reilin and the farmer have concluded. Two of his sons make their way to the farmhouse and are soon returning, each with two small casks tucked under their arms.

  James hands over the required sum and the casks of dates are secured behind the saddles of four of them. “Thank you,” James tells the farmer with a grin. The farmer nods his head in reply. Then he and his sons return to the farmhouse.

  Leaving the farm behind, James glances back at the Vyrilyzk. “Do you think they worship Asran?” he asks Brother Willim.

  Shrugging, he says, “I doubt it. Mainly the laying out of the Vyrilyzk has become a tradition. There are few who even remember when it started or why. All they know is that if they do it, they tend to have a good crop of whatever they grow the following year.”

  The rest of the day they continue their way southwest. Once they had to angle more to the east to avoid a column of troops heading north. “Think they’re heading to Al-Ziron?” asks Stig.

  “I would think so,” replies Scar. “They would want to maintain a presence there strong enough to project strength. It’s always better to barter from a position of strength.”

  “True enough,” agrees Stig.

  Later in the day they see people and wagons passing across the horizon ahead of them. “I figure that would be the road that runs north out of Korazan,” observes Shorty.

  “Do you think it wise for us to be anywhere near here?” asks Jiron. “After all, Illan came through here not too long ago and caused major damage.”

  “With everyone’s focus on the talks going on further north,” reasons James, “who will think twice about us?”

  “Maybe those riders coming straight for us?” Everyone turns to see the half a dozen riders coming from the east. There’s no doubt that they mean to intercept their party. From their armor and the Empire’s emblem on their uniforms, there’s little question about who they are.

  “Everyone stay cool,” says James. “Be on your guard in case things go bad.”

  “Look bored,” suggests Scar. “It will just give them cause to inspect us closely if we appear like we are up to something.”

  “Good idea,” agrees Miko.

  They come to a halt and wait for the arrival of the riders. Reilin, whose outward visage projects calm and nonchalance, puts himself between the approaching riders and the others. Once the riders are close enough, he offers them a greeting.

  The lead soldier replies. Looking to be the officer in charge of the group, he scans those behind Reilin. He and Reilin exchange words several times before the officer and his men ride off.

  Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when the riders have left. “What was that about?” asks Jiron.

  “They were looking for escaped slaves,” he explains.

  “Could it have been Tinok?” Jiron asks.

  “He didn’t say who or what they were,” Reilin replies. “Just that they were loose and if we were to see them to notify the nearest garrison as to their location.”

  Jiron looks to James. “It could be,” he says.

  Nodding, James takes out his mirror and once again tries to get a view of Tinok to appear. But just as last time, the mirror remains quiet. “I don’t think it would be him,” James tells the others. “If he was this close, I would get something.”

  “Unless there was magic blocking him from being found,” offers Potbelly. “Sort of like what you did that one time.”

  “First of all, why would anyone go to the trouble of hiding Tinok from magical searches?” asks James. “I don’t think that would even be a possibility. Second, if he was to be hidden in such a way, I would never even be able to use the cloth to find him either.”

  “Oh yeah,” Potbelly says. “I forgot about that.”

  “But, just to put everyone’s mind at ease…” he pulls out the cloth and once again, it rises to point the way to where Tinok lies. It still indicates Tinok is somewhere to the southwest.

  “So, are we going to take the road?” asks Jiron again.

  “Yes,” James replies. “Just keep Reilin out front in case we need to deal with someone.” Indicating the native garb they are all wearing, “And we’ll blend in.”

  “It did work with the riders,” chimes in Shorty.

  “Exactly,” states James. He sees the way Jiron is looking and him curiously. “What?” he asks.

  Shrugging, Jiron says, “This seems a bit bold on your part. Usually you like to stay away and avoid everyone.”

  “No one’s out looking for us,” he replies. “We’re not here to cause mischief so I think this time, boldness will be the better way to go. Besides, if we tried to avoid everyone, our search for Tinok could take longer than we have.” So moving like they belong here, they head over to the road and turn to follow it south.

  The people traveling upon the road barely even glance at them as they gain the roadway, those going north give them a cursory glance, more to break up the monotony of travel than really caring who they are. The people they pass heading south at times give them a greeting that Reilin returns, but for the most part they keep to themselves.

  “Sure looks different than when we came through here earlier this summer,” observes Shorty.

  Scar chuckles and says, “Yeah, everyone was running for their lives.”

  James isn’t amused at all. Fear. Any kind of fear is a bad thing and to have been one to instigate it is nothing to be proud of. They did what they had to for the Empire to be pushed out of Madoc. He isn’t proud of the effect it had on the common man, but at least it wasn’t as bad as the effect the Empire had on the common man during their push into Madoc.

  They keep a good pace throughout the day. Twice more they are stopped momentarily by patrols on the hunt for the missing slaves. From what Reilin gathered from the two meetings, the slaves are vicious, armed and likely to kill you as look at you. Numbering fourteen, they have supposedly killed dozens of unwary travelers on the road.

  “Think we should be concerned?” Miko asks.

  “They would have to be pretty desperate to take us on,” Jiron states. “There are other more tempting targets they could choose.”

  “Just keep our eyes and ears open for trouble,” James announces. “Keep a double watch at night just in case.”

  They fall silent as they ride, each thinking about the significance of the escaped slaves. Some think it could possibly be people taken from Madoc during the war trying to get home. Others are of the belief they are criminals out for vengeance.

  From where Scar and Potbelly ride, James can hear them talking.

  “…probably some old people who got lost…” Scar says.

  “…rumors get, as it goes from person to person it continuously gets blown all out of…” adds Scar.

  James grins. If there is anyone who blows things out of proportion, it’s those two.

  By sundown they reach a town. They recognize it as the last town Illan’s force took before heading out into the desert to avoid the fortress of Al-Ziron. It looks pretty much as they had left it. The few buildings which took damage during the assault are even now being repaired.

  “Best if we don’t stay here,” suggests James.

  Nodding, Jiron replies, “That would be a good idea. Never know if someone may recognize us.”
r />   “Not to mention they are going to be extra leery of strangers,” pipes up Shorty.

  “If memory serves,” Stig says, “we passed by an inn not too far south of here on our way north.”

  “That’s right,” agrees Scar. “Three of our freed slaves made off with several casks of ale. That is before Illan found out. After returning the ale, he gave the men five lashes for ‘thieving without authorization’ or something like that.”

  “I remember,” says Shorty. “He gave them the option of keeping the casks and sending them off on their own, or they could return them and receive five lashes.”

  Laughing, Potbelly bursts out, “You should have seen their faces! I think one was actually contemplating keeping his cask but the other two talked him out of it. They didn’t relish the idea of being made slaves again for a single cask of ale each.”

  “You guys didn’t interact with the innkeeper did you?” he asks. They all reply that they hadn’t. “Good,” continues James. “Then let’s stop there.”

  With Reilin out front, they move to enter the town. The rest of them pull their hoods closer about them to better hide their faces. The town has no protective wall surrounding it, the road simply passes through the outlying buildings.

  Evidence of their recent occupation is evident. The sight of slaves walking the street is practically nonexistent. On his way out of the Empire, Illan stripped the towns of their slaves, both to bolster his own army and that James had asked it of him.

  As they make their way through the city, the people appear to have gotten over the effects of the occupation and have returned to business as usual. A few glance at them as they ride by but none give them more than a cursory glance. At one spot they come to a building that must have been torched during the occupation, the smell of char is still in the air even after so long.

  Out front of the burned out building is an old man dressed poorly sitting cross-legged with a bowl on the ground before him. A couple coppers rest in the bottom of the bowl. Feeling the need to help, James removes a silver from his pouch and flips it toward the beggar as he rides by. When the coin sails through the air and comes close to the old man, his arm shoots up and snatches the coin. Putting the coin quickly within his meager clothes, he nods a thank you to James.