The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven

by Brian S. Pratt

  “Any crossbowmen?” asks Reilin.

  Shaking his head, he says, “No, just guards.”

  “We can take that many,” Potbelly says.

  Jiron nods his head then turns to Aleya. “How many arrows do you have left?” he asks.

  She checks her quiver and says, “Eight.”

  “Move out in the hallway and start taking them out,” he says “They’ll charge if they see only a lone archer. Just keep firing at them until they are close then let us know and we’ll move to engage them.”

  “You got it darling,” she says and gives him a kiss.

  Turning slightly red faced at the expression of affection, he says, “Okay, go ahead.”

  To his embarrassment and the amusement of the others, she actually pats him on the bottom as she moves to the middle of where the two hallways meet. Pulling an arrow as she enters the junction, she puts it to string then turns and faces the guards at the entrance.

  She aims for one of the guards who is furthest away from her and then takes a calming breath. Down by the entrance, she can see the guards take note of her standing there but fail to really pay her that much attention. Then she lets the arrow fly and has another to string before the first one strikes home.

  When her arrow hits the man and knocks him backward with a cry, the guards turn as one toward her. She lets fly her next arrow and another man hits the ground as the rest charge. “Here they come,” she announces as she looses her third arrow. By the time her fifth arrow is in the body of a dead soldier on the ground, the charging men are too close to allow her another shot. Turning, she bolts down the corridor past where Jiron and the others are waiting.

  “I got five,” she says as she races past.

  “As long as you saved a few for the rest of us,” Scar replies. Drawing forth both swords, he and Jiron move to meet the oncoming soldiers. When the first one rounds the corner, he’s met by the point of Scar’s sword.

  One of Shorty’s knives takes out the next one and then Jiron engages yet another. With knives weaving in and out, he works his way inside the man’s guard and drops him to the ground.

  Potbelly, Stig and Reilin come next and the battle is joined. The skill of the guards is nothing compared to the skill honed in the fight pits by the men they’re facing. When Stig crushes the skull of the last man, Jiron hollers, “Let’s get out of here!”

  Leaving the dead lying in the hallway, they race for the entrance to the Keep. No other guards make an appearance as they cross the remainder of the hallway and pass out into the night. The smell of burning wood fills the air and off to their right above the curtain wall they see the glow of the fires that rage within the city.

  Ping!

  A crossbow bolt strikes Stig’s shield and ricochets away. Aleya turns her attention to the walls above them and sees three crossbowmen cranking up their crossbows for another shot. Immediately putting arrow to string, she aims and lets fly. The arrow sails true and sinks its head into the chest of a crossbowman. The man staggers a moment as his crossbow falls from his hands. Then he plummets off the wall down to the courtyard below.

  “Get the gate!” Stig yells to the others as he moves to put his shield between Aleya and the crossbowmen. No sooner does he have his shield in place than two bolts are deflected by its hardened surface.

  “Thanks,” she says as she readies another arrow. Then, “Lower your shield so I can get a shot off.” When his shield drops half a foot, she aims, fires and watches as her arrow strikes yet another of the crossbowmen.

  Stig raises his shield to protect her while she readies for her final shot. Taking her last arrow from her quiver, she puts it to string then aims for the remaining crossbowman. Stig glances back to where the others are racing for the gatehouse to release the gate lock. One guard lies on the ground dead while Jiron engages with another. Scar and Potbelly race past the two locked in battle and make a dash for the stairs leading to the gatehouse.

  “Now Stig,” she says bringing his attention back to their situation.

  Lowering his shield, he hears her release her arrow and then watches as the third crossbowmen falls from the wall. “Good shot,” he says.

  “Thanks for your help,” she says. Then she rushes across the courtyard to the fallen crossbowmen to retrieve her arrows. Stig goes with her just in case she needs protection again.

  Scar and Potbelly reach the gatehouse and in no time the grinding of the gears which unlock the gate can be heard. Emerging back out of the guardhouse, Potbelly yells, “It’s open!”

  James sees Jiron finish off his opponent and says to Brother Willim, “Let’s get out of here.” He heads to the gate with Reilin and Brother Willim helping Perrilin following close behind. Jiron reaches the gate first and pulls it open. Expecting there might be an attack, he quickly scans the area and is relieved to find the street on the other side empty.

  Glancing back within the courtyard, he sees Scar and Potbelly moving to join him. Then he notices where Stig stands near Aleya while she works to remove one of her arrows from out of a dead crossbowman. “Aleya!” he hollers.

  She turns her head to glance at him, then returns to working out the arrow.

  “We don’t have time for that!” he shouts.

  “He’s right,” Stig says to her. “One more arrow won’t make all that much difference.”

  “It may,” she says. Inserting her knife between the man’s ribs wherein the arrow is embedded, she spread them apart enough to allow the arrow to come free. Wiping it off on the shirt of the crossbowman, she stands up and puts it in her quiver. “Okay, let’s go.” With Stig following behind her, she races across to where the others are waiting. She managed to retrieve two of the three arrows.

  Jiron gives her a stern glare as they approach and she returns one equally as severe. Deciding this is not the time or place to argue with her, he leads them down the street away from the gate in the curtain wall.

  “Perrilin needs to rest,” states Brother Willim.

  “Can you lead us back to the inn?” James asks. “The people there will take care of him. He’s in no shape to continue with us.”

  Jiron stops and glances to where Perrilin is sagging between Brother Willim and Reilin. “Very well,” he says. Moving out, he takes a right at the next intersection and begins taking them along the same path they took when they followed the other guy to the keep.

  Smoke permeates the air. Thick, but not so bad as to be unbreathable, just annoying. The people out on the streets seem to be rushing in no apparent direction. Some are heading toward the fire while others appear to be fleeing it.

  When at last the inn appears in sight, Jiron brings them to a halt. “What are we stopping for?” Shorty asks.

  “Remember when we left, there were men watching the place,” he says. “Don’t want them to know we came back.” Then he motions for Scar and Potbelly to work their way around to the right while he and Stig work their way around to the left. The others he has remain where they are.

  He and Stig stay in the shadows as they slowly work their way to the far side of the inn. Taking it slowly, they search for anyone who may be hidden. But by the time they meet up with Scar and Potbelly on the other side, neither pair had found anyone. “Guess they all went to help with the fire,” Stig suggests.

  “Possibly,” Jiron agrees. Then he heads back down the street toward where James and the others are waiting. As soon as they come into view, he waves for them to join him.

  “Anybody?” asks James.

  “Not that we saw,” Jiron explains.

  “Have them keep an eye out while we take Perrilin inside,” James tells him. “And send someone around back to get the horses ready.” Then he indicates for Brother Willim and Reilin to follow him with Perrilin. As they head for the door, Jiron has the others fan out and take position around the inn. He sends Shorty to the stable.

  Before they reach the door, it opens and the innkeeper steps out. “You got him?” he asks incredulously.

&n
bsp; James nods. “He’s hurt pretty badly though.”

  Glancing up and down the street, the innkeeper waves for them to enter. “Bring him inside,” he says.

  As they enter the dimly lit common room, James notices two other men there. One of them is the man who led them to the Keep. “I didn’t think you were going to burn down the town,” he says to the man.

  “It worked didn’t it?” he replies with a grin. “Don’t worry, we were very selective in what we torched. Business concerns and homes of those with whom we are at odds with.”

  They bring Perrilin over to a chair and a serving woman appears with a mug of ale for him. “Thank you,” he tells her as he takes the mug. Then to the innkeeper, Perrilin says, “They must leave town quickly. Send someone to help get their horses ready and give each an ample supply of food for the road.”

  The innkeeper nods and then has the second man go and see about getting it done. “Shouldn’t take too long to get it ready,” the innkeeper tells James.

  “What about Korgan?” asks the man who led them to the Keep.

  Perrilin turns his gaze to James who says, “I doubt if he survived.”

  “Did you see him die?” the innkeeper asks.

  Shaking his head, he replies, “No I did not. But with his injuries I highly doubt if you’ll be seeing him again.” Not to mention the fact that he let all the prisoners loose down there. It’s altogether likely one or two will have it in for Korgan.

  “Good,” the innkeeper states with satisfaction.

  Perrilin lays his hand on James’ arm. “I want to express my thanks for rescuing me yet again,” he says.

  “Just stop making it a habit of having to be rescued,” he says. “I may not be around the next time.”

  Perrilin nods his head and grins, “I’ll try.”

  One of the serving women comes from the kitchen with several bulging travel packs. “Here,” the innkeeper says when she places them on the table before James. “Take this with our gratitude.”

  “I will,” he replies. “Thank you.”

  A few minutes later the man who went to get the horses ready returns and says, “They’re ready.”

  To Reilin James says, “Go tell Jiron to bring the others around back.”

  Nodding, Reilin hurries out the front door.

  Coming to his feet, James holds his hand out to Perrilin. “Good luck,” he says.

  “You too James,” he says, taking the hand and giving it a firm shake.

  Reilin returns with Stig who together take the food packs out back to secure onto the horses.

  “You better get out of here,” Perrilin urges. “It won’t be long before the search will be on.”

  “Right,” he says. “Until next time.” Then with Brother Willim in tow, he crosses the common room and leaves the inn by the back door. Jiron and the others are already in the courtyard waiting with the horses. Two additional horses are present, replacements for the ones lost in the Mists.

  Jiron sees him exit and says, “Everything’s set.”

  “Good. Let’s get going.” James then moves to one of the horses and mounts.

  The man who had led them to the Keep comes to stand beside his horse. “A man of ours reported that the gates leading from the city to the south were open less than an hour ago,” he says. “If you’re lucky, they still will be.”

  “Then let’s not waste time talking,” Jiron says. He nudges his horse into motion and heads for the gate leading from the inn’s courtyard.

  “Safe journeys,” the man says.

  “Thank you for everything,” James replies then turns to follow Jiron.

  They are soon out on the street and moving quickly toward the southern gate. Smoke continues to thicken as fires rage in several areas of the city. In the haze and darkness, visibility is reduced to almost nothing. If it weren’t for the lighted street lamps hanging at the intersections, they would never have been able to find their way to the gates.

  When they finally turn down the street that runs directly to the southern gate, Jiron gets his horse up to a fast trot. There are no fires in this area and the only people on the streets are the more disreputable of the city’s citizens. Not so much beggars as prostitutes and what James takes for thieves and drunkards. They pay them little mind other than a woman calling to them as they pass.

  “There’s the gate,” Jiron says as its gaping maw appears out of the smoky darkness ahead.

  “Anyone around?” Scar asks.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” he says. “Stay alert.”

  They ride up to the gate at a quick pace. Each scans the area ahead and to the sides of the street for the presence of any hostiles lying in wait. The wall above the gate appears clear as does the area before it.

  James all of a sudden gets the feeling they’re being watched. Could be just nerves and lack of sleep, but he feels like there’s someone out there. He pulls one of his few remaining slugs from his belt and holds it ready. Ahead of him, Jiron has pulled ahead and is just about to pass through the gate. The area remains quiet.

  Kicking their horses into a faster pace, they bolt through the gate and hit the road on the other side. No bolts fly from the dark, nor do soldiers manifest and try to stop them.

  “Did we kill them all back at the Keep?” asks Reilin.

  “That, or they’re busy fighting the fires,” James replies. Glancing back at the city, he can see the glows from where the different fires still burn.

  Jiron sets a furious pace as they leave Hyrryth behind. The sliver of a moon overhead shows that time is all but up. A few more days at the most and the Shroud of Killian will again blind the giant’s eye.

  They ride for an hour until all sight of the city and the fire’s glow disappear behind them. Then they pull off the road for a ways and make camp. They leave the horses saddled in the event a quick getaway is required. Jiron takes the first watch and begins walking around the camp’s perimeter to help keep himself awake. The others work to get their bedrolls rolled out on the ground and positioned in the dark. A few hours sleep before they plan to hit the road again.

  James feels a hand shaking him awake as a voice says, “James, wake up. It’s morning and Jiron wants to get moving.”

  Groaning, James rolls over and says, “Doesn’t he ever sleep?”

  “I don’t think so,” replies Miko. Despite not looking at him, James can hear the grin in his voice. “Get up before he comes over here and wakes you up.”

  “I’d like to see him try,” James says with eyes still closed.

  Miko’s hand again shakes him. “Come on, everyone else is already awake.”

  James lifts his head and cracks open his bloodshot eyes. Looking around, he verifies the truth of Miko’s claim. Taking a deep breath, he releases it and says, “Alright. Give me a second.”

  “I’ll have some food ready for you when you get up,” Miko tells him.

  “Thanks.” He hears Miko get to his feet and walk away. He almost falls back asleep before he even realizes it. Right in the middle of a dream about nothing in particular, a boot begins nudging him. Opening his eyes he sees Jiron standing there.

  “Can’t a guy get any rest around here?” he asks.

  “No,” he says. “Tinok’s time is almost gone. We no longer have the luxury of resting and taking our ease.”

  Sighing, James says, “I know.” Sitting up, he looks to Jiron and can see the worry in his face. It troubles him to see that. With sleep now an impossible goal, he gets up and makes ready to travel. After finishing off a quick meal Miko hands him, they mount and begin making for the road.

  Back at the road they join the traffic already upon it and turn south. “It’s at least two days until we reach Zixtyn,” Jiron announces. “Let’s pray we have no further delays.” Kicking the sides of his horse, he’s soon up to a gallop. Then they begin putting miles behind them.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  _________________________

  Two days of hard riding bring them
at last to the walls of Zixtyn. The way it sprawls across a wide area makes it one of the largest towns they have yet come across. Which is odd seeing as how no major waterway runs through it. Usually people tend to settle where there’s water, like a river or lake. But here there’s nothing. No river, no lake, yet here they are.

  “This place is huge,” comments Scar when it first comes into sight. “You wouldn’t think such a large population could survive together out here.”

  “I know,” agrees James.

  Off to the west of the city sits a large, tall edifice which can only be a temple. Dark and foreboding, it almost seems to draw light into itself rather than reflect it outwards. Surrounding the temple are many buildings of various sizes which have to be the place where the training of Dmon-Li’s priests takes place.

  “That’s it,” says Brother Willim. “That’s what we have to get inside.”

  “Oh, man,” utters Reilin.

  A wall surrounds the complex but isn’t designed to keep people out. It’s more to mark off the area as part of the temple complex. There are many ways in which to pass through, many gates and openings.

  “There’s not much light left,” Jiron announces. “Best if we find an inn and do a little reconnoitering in the morning.”

  James turns and looks at him askance. “In the morning?”

  Nodding, he replies, “Yes. We still have at least two days left. Now that we’re close we can’t afford to act prematurely or rashly. In the morning I’ll take Reilin and Shorty and scout the area.”

  “Good idea,” agrees James.

  It takes another half hour before they reach the outlying buildings. Not so much due to distance as people. Many people crowd the streets and they are forced to slow to a crawl in order to make it through.

  Several inns appear along the road as they pass through the outskirts, most of which look to be dives or even worse. They decide to continue further into Zixtyn until they come across a decent one.