The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven

by Brian S. Pratt

  “I just don’t know,” he says. “It would depend on the type of wards they have in place.”

  Then all of a sudden their attention is drawn to rapidly approaching footsteps coming from further into town. From the sound of it there must be more than a couple people coming toward them.

  Jiron places a hand on the hilt of one of his knives and moves toward the sound while the others remain quietly with the horses. As whoever is approaching draws closer, he can hear one of them asks, “Where the heck are they?”

  He relaxes when he realizes the voice belongs to Scar. “Over here!” he calls out softly. The footsteps come to a stop and he can now see their silhouettes in the moonlight. Moving toward them, he again says, “Over here.” Then to James he hollers, “It’s them.”

  “Jiron?” asks Reilin.

  “Yeah,” he says, “and it’s about time you guys showed up.”

  As they move to join him, Potbelly says, “We had a few people follow us out of the tavern. Took us a bit to shake them.”

  “Is he alright?” Jiron asks.

  “He’s fine and everyone is accounted for,” Stig assures him.

  From out of the darkness appears the blonde haired Kir with a grin. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to pull it off for awhile,” Perrilin says. The front of his outfit and most of his right sleeve is coated in blood.

  As Jiron leads them back to where James and the others are waiting with the horses, he says, “For a minute I thought we had actually cut off your hand. You’re quite convincing.”

  “Thank you,” he says with a slight bow. “I’ve had plenty of practice faking my own death.” Then they arrive where the others are waiting and he looks to James as he adds, “But that thing with the pig’s bladder and intestine was pure genius.”

  James gives him a smile and says, “Saw it on a show once about movie magic. Of course they used other material, but we made do with what was available to us.”

  After they had left the slaver compound and rejoined the others, they went to an inn and dropped off the horses as well as everyone but James, Jiron and Reilin. They then asked around and found out where Kir was staying. He was quite surprised when they showed up at his door.

  When told of the task Buka had set for them, that is to take his right hand, he decided that Kir had outlived his usefulness. Then together they worked out a plan that would enable them to fool Buka and allow Perrilin to make good his escape. After all, those who knew Perrilin the bard was masquerading as Kir, would hear about him losing his hand in front of the crowd at the Wallowing Swine. That alone will allow him to create a new identity without immediate suspicion.

  So the following morning, they went to a local butcher shop and purchased a medium sized pig’s bladder, three feet of intestine, and a lot of pig’s blood. They sewed the end of the intestine to the bladder and filled the bladder with the blood.

  Next was a visit to a communal grave where they throw dead slaves. Seems a single grave is too much work for just a single slave. So they dig a pit and when it becomes filled with dead slaves, they fill it back in. Needless to say, the pit is usually far outside of town due to the odor. But Perrilin knew that any place with a slaver compound would have one and they soon located it. The rest was easy.

  During the break when they agreed he would be attacked, in the back of the kitchen, Perrilin placed the pig bladder under his left arm and strung the intestine under his shirt all the way to his right hand. Then a hand and portion of the forearm of a dead slave were extended from the end of his right sleeve.

  When he was grabbed and Jiron cut the hand from the forearm, he squeezed the pig’s bladder and the pig’s blood sprayed out the end of the section of intestine. All in all it looked like his ‘stump’ was spraying blood. Then it was a simple matter for Reilin and the others to get him out of there, hide the evidence, and rejoin James.

  “What will they do when they come looking for you?” asks Stig. “After all, some of the people there really cared about you.”

  “They’ll find me gone,” he replies. “I’m sure they’ll hunt through the temples and when they still can’t find me, the rumors will start.”

  They mount their horses and head out into the night away from town. As they leave the buildings behind them, James fills the others in on what they learned from Buka and the ramifications that go along with it. “So, we have less than ten days remaining,” James summarizes. “We know where he is. All that’s left is to go get him.”

  “Oh, that’s all?” asks Aleya mockingly. “You can’t be thinking about breaking into this temple. It’s madness!”

  “Now, it won’t be that bad,” Jiron tells her.

  She turns a withering glare upon him and is about to launch into how stupid the plan is when Miko says in a calm but sure voice, “We must.” Her glare now turns to him. Cutting her off yet again, he says, “No matter what the cost, we must try to stop what is going to happen. Even if it means all of us die in the attempt.”

  James brings them to a halt and turns to Miko. “What do you mean we have to ‘stop what is going to happen’?”

  “Just what I said,” he replies. “This goes far beyond Tinok, Cassie, even you James.”

  “You’ll have to explain that to me,” Scar says.

  “Something’s been gnawing at me ever since you told us your last vision when you learned it was Cassie in your dreams,” he explains. “And it finally, as you say, clicked together. I don’t believe the dream was given to you for Tinok’s benefit. Rather, it was a way to get you to go to that temple in the middle of the Mists.”

  Turning to Brother Willim he says, “Your dreams of late have ended with the sundering of a black, mist shrouded tree. From which a creature issues forth and destroys the garden. Am I right in saying the garden represents the world?”

  Brother Willim nods his head. “I have always thought so.”

  “A black tree shrouded in mist and now a black temple residing within a blanket of mist.” Glancing from between Brother Willim and James he concludes, “It’s too much of a coincidence with everything that’s been happening.”

  Nodding, Brother Willim says, “I agree. I came to that conclusion a short time ago.”

  “Therefore, something is going to happen within the High Temple of Dmon-Li when the moon turns black. Whatever it is, should it be successful, will destroy the world.”

  They grow silent as each ponders what he just said. “Could it be possible?” Aleya asks. Gone is her stern glare to Jiron. Now a more thoughtful, perhaps even fearful expression has taken its place.

  “Yes,” replies James. He remembers that other place he was in long ago, the one with the burnt trees and shadows that Igor had rescued him from. “Oh yes, I believe it can happen. That it probably has happened to other worlds, other places.”

  Miko turns to face James. “Is this why I was made High Priest?” he asks.

  “More than likely,” he replies with a nod. “As High Priest, you would bring more to the table than just being plain old Miko.”

  “How far away is this temple?” asks Scar.

  They turn to Perrilin who says, “The Mists of Sorrow lay a little over a day to the southwest, but their position fluctuates at times. Once within them, I’m not sure how much further the temple will be.”

  “Then I suggest we ride for another couple hours and then rest until dawn,” Jiron says. “In the morning ride until we reach the Mists then rest until the following morning. It would be best if we were at our peak when entering the Mists.”

  James nods. “I agree,” he says.

  Moving on, they ride to the southwest as planned and stop after putting many miles behind them. They post a watch throughout the night while they sleep. Once the sun begins to rise once more, they’re back in the saddle and again moving southwest.

  The terrain grows steadily more unforgiving the further they go. Cracked land and stunted trees for as far as the eye can see. After leaving their campsite, Brother Willim is the
first to notice the lack of living things in the area. “I can’t sense any birds or beasts nearby,” he announces at one point. “I’ve never before been to an area such as this.”

  “What could it mean?” asks Reilin.

  “Nothing good I assure you,” the priest replies.

  The day progresses hot and dry. Worries rise as they push deeper into what Scar has begun to call the land of the dead, a not too far off description considering the lack of life they’ve encountered.

  Three hours before sundown, the Mists of Sorrow appears on the horizon. Just as he remembers it, a wall of fog in an area where no fog should be able to exist. As they ride forward, the wall of fog steadily grows until they come to within a mile of it. There they stop and make camp for the night.

  “We’ll stay here through the night,” James tells the others as they set about making camp. “We should be safe enough here.”

  Jiron looks at the wall of fog with Aleya standing next to him. “I hope so,” he mutters. He turns to her and says, “I wish you weren’t here.”

  “I know you do,” she says. “But there’s no other place I would rather be.”

  Putting his arm around her, he gives her an affectionate squeeze. Then they return to the others and help with preparations for the meal. A filling meal of the last of their dried beef and a few old tubers Brother Willim dug from the ground satisfies their hunger if not their taste buds. How the tubers came to be here is anyone’s guess, could be they manage to grow in the wintertime.

  Once the meal is over and they are sitting around a campfire, they decided to risk one seeing as how nothing is out here, they settle in for the night. As hard as it may be, they try to put what may happen on the morrow out of their minds as they spend one last time together like they use to back at The Ranch. Stories and songs, most of which are by Perrilin, go a long way in taking away their worries and fears. But when the time comes to sleep, once again each one begins to dwell on what will happen. For some, sleep takes a long time to come.

  “Where is it?” asks Stig.

  The lightning of the sky with the coming of dawn revealed that the fog was nowhere in sight. “I told you it moves,” Brother Willim says. “The edge has simply moved further away from us.”

  “It must be scared,” jokes Shorty. “It knows we are on the way.” A couple snickers are all he gets for his levity, not nearly what he was hoping for.

  “Guess we’ll have a little more of a ride this morning than we anticipated,” James says. Climbing into the saddle, he waits for the others to mount. Then he nods to Jiron to lead the way. With Aleya riding beside him, he heads out.

  The fog doesn’t take too long to makes its appearance. Less than an hour after they get underway it appears on the horizon. The sight of the fog before them affects each in their own way. Most however feel a sense of dread at the sight, one of impending doom.

  Steeling their nerve, they continue on toward the wall of fog. It rises to a point high above the ground and when they at last reach its boundary, it towers far above them. “Never seen fog or mist behave this way before,” Perrilin states. “A sheer wall rising to the sky like this.”

  “This is no ordinary mist,” Brother Willim states. “It differs slightly from that you would normally find in the world.”

  “How so?” asks James.

  “Hard to explain,” he replies. Gesturing to the mist before them he says, “This goes against the natural order of the world.”

  They pause momentarily at the mist’s boundary. James gazes intently at the mist before them and tries to penetrate its murky depths. “Everyone keep a constant lookout for hell hounds,” he says to the others. “With any luck, they may not be in this area.”

  “I wouldn’t trust to that if I were you,” comments Potbelly.

  “I’m not,” he responds. Then with a glance to Jiron, he nods that they should enter.

  “Here we go,” breathes Jiron as he nudges his horse to move forward.

  As they enter the mist and it envelops them, it almost feels as if the mist is sucking the warmth right out of their bodies. The world turns hazy as the light from the sun above becomes diffused as it works its way down to where they are. Sound too, seems to be muffled in some way, the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves no longer resonates as it had when they were not in the mist.

  Onward Jiron leads them. Everyone stays in a compact group, all unconsciously remain together for safety. When after a few minutes’ time nothing happens, Jiron picks up the pace.

  James wants desperately to use magic to see if there is anything nearby, but realizes that if he does, those within the temple will undoubtedly pick up on it. So he resists the temptation and uses what senses are available to him; sight, smell and sound. Unfortunately, the mist allows neither one to be very effective.

  Time becomes meaningless within the constant grayness of the mist. They begin jumping at imagined shadows as the monotonousness of the mist starts playing tricks on their senses. “Is there anything you can do about this?” Shorty asks Brother Willim after they’ve been in the mist for what must be over an hour.

  “No,” he replies. “It’s not natural.”

  “Too bad,” states Reilin.

  Another few minutes pass by and Jiron suddenly comes to a stop and peers intently into the mists ahead of them.

  James stops next to him and asks, “What is it?” Looking forward into the mist, he tries to see what Jiron had.

  “I’m not sure,” he replies. Not taking his eyes off the mist he adds, “Thought I saw something.”

  From behind them Scar pipes up and says, “Could have been your imagination. This sort of stuff can do that to a man.”

  “Maybe,” he says in a tone which tells the others he doesn’t think that’s what it was.

  James continues staring into the fog but fails to see anything. “I don’t think there’s anything out there,” he says. Rarely though is Jiron wrong about something like this.

  Aaaah!!!

  Then suddenly Stig cries out as one of the hell hounds leaps from out of the mist and slams into his horse. The creature’s claws rake the side of the horse, ripping and tearing as it bowls them both over. Stig leaps from the saddle and hits the ground hard. Rolling, he comes up and faces the creature with mace and shield ready.

  The creature looks up at him and charges just as Brother Willim throws something in the air. A tangle of vines bursts into being and ensnares the creature.

  Light blazes forth as Miko holds aloft the Star and speaks in a language none can understand. The mist rolls backward until a wide clearing devoid of mist surrounds them. Another of the creatures is revealed when the mist rolls back. A beam of light surges from the Star and strikes the second creature. Rearing back, the creature lets out a primal scream of pain as the light from the Star lances through it.

  The first creature struggles against the vines holding it. Smoke rises as the heat of the creature chars the constricting vines. In little time, the creature breaks free and leaps. James spies the creature leaping for Stig and lets the magic flow. A barrier forms around the creature in mid leap. Stig dodges to the side as the barrier encased creature hits the ground right where he had been standing.

  Increasing the magic to the barrier, James changes its nature and turns it quickly colder. Inside, the creature struggles against the barrier but is unable to break free. Then, just as he had many times before, James begins shrinking the barrier in on the creature until its life force goes out and the barrier implodes.

  By this time, Miko has the second creature all but destroyed. The light from the Star is still searing into it, extinguishing its life. Soon, the creature collapses completely and erupts in a cloud of noxious black smoke, leaving a charred area upon the ground where it was destroyed.

  Jiron scans the area for more of the creatures then hollers, “Everyone okay?”

  “I’m fine,” replies Stig. He walks over to his horse only to find what he already knew. It’s dead. The side where the
creature attacked it has been ripped to shreds.

  To Miko, Jiron asks, “Can you continue to keep the mist at bay?”

  “Not a problem,” he replies.

  Jiron then glances to James and says, “Seeing as how they know we’re here already and all.”

  Nodding, James says, “Good thinking. Better pick up the pace a bit from here on out.”

  “Are we sure we’re still going in the right direction?” asks Aleya. “I can no longer tell which way is which.”

  Miko points off into the mists and says, “It’s that way.”

  “How can you tell?” asks Potbelly.

  “Ever since we entered the mist, I have felt something,” he explains. “I wasn’t sure what it was until just now. It’s the temple. It feels like a disease.”

  “Then you take the lead from here,” Jiron says. “I haven’t been sure for awhile if we were even going in the right direction.”

  With a nod, Miko takes the lead and they continue on.

  Stig mounts behind Shorty, he being the lightest of the group. Thus their combined weight will tire his horse less than if Stig rode with another.

  Aleya stares at the charred spot on the ground where the creature Miko killed fell. She swallows hard and steels her nerves as she follows along with the others. If she still had her bow and arrows, she would definitely feel better.

  Miko continues to maintain their island within the mist through the magic of the Star. Able to see more than a couple feet in front of them takes the edge off the dread that had filled them since entering the Mists. It’s still absolute quiet other than the noise that they and their horses make which lends an eerie feel to the whole thing.

  “If that’s all we are going to have to face,” begins Potbelly, “we should be able to make it to the temple.”

  “What are the odds on that though?” counters Scar as he gazes to the wall of mist, first to one side then the other. “There’s bound to be more of them out there.”

  “Not to mention warrior priests,” adds Potbelly. “If there’s any place that would have them, it would be here.”