Trail of the Gods ms-4

by Brian S. Pratt

  James whispers back, “Yes.”

  The old man nods as the slavers holler for the slaves to gather together for the return to the slave compound. As the old man gets up off the piece of wall, he points to it and then points to a spot closer to the wall before going to join the others.

  James watches as the old man shuffles along with the others back down the street. When they’ve moved out of sight, he turns to Jiron and says, “We need to move that section of wall closer to the window.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “The old guy indicated we should,” he replies. “It may enable us to communicate better tomorrow. Less chance of being overheard.”

  “No. I mean why bother talking to him?” Jiron corrects.

  “When I told him what it meant, he seemed surprised that I knew,” he clarifies. “He also asked if I was to be here tomorrow. Why would he say that?”

  “To tell the soldiers and have us arrested,” suggests Jiron.

  Shaking his head, James says, “He could’ve done that any time today. No, he wants to tell me something.”

  “You may be reading more into this than there is,” Jiron insists. “He could just be a lonely old man who wants to talk with someone who’s either not a slave or a slaver.”

  “Maybe,” James skeptically admits. “Only one way to find out though. If he is just a lonely old guy, I’ll say no more about it.”

  “Okay,” he agrees.

  They wait until it gets dark and then make their way out onto the street to where the section of wall the old man had sat on lies. Struggling with all their strength, they’re able to move it over to where it almost touches the wall beneath the window. “That should be close enough,” Jiron says after the section of wall is in position. They use their feet to eradicate the marks on the ground they made when moving the slab of wall.

  Nodding, James adds, “We should be able to hear each other well without having to speak too loudly.”

  “Are you planning on searching other buildings tonight?” he asks him.

  Shaking his head, he says, “No, I’m too exhausted.”

  “Then go ahead and get some sleep while I keep watch,” he volunteers.

  “Thanks.” They return into the building where James lies down and falls right to sleep. Jiron doesn’t wake him all night, and even manages to get a few hours of sleep as well. True, he was taking an awful chance having no one on watch, but they’ve been there several days now and no one has yet to come by except for the slave gang.

  The next morning, the sound of the slave gang approaching awakens James. He moves to the window where Jiron is already looking out at their approach. “Do you see the old guy?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” he replies. “He’s in there with the others.”

  They watch as the slaves and slavers approach and then begin working in the same area, clearing the rubble. It’s an hour or so after their arrival when the old guy makes his way over to the now much closer section of fallen wall. Sitting down with his back to the window, he produces the same dirty, stained rag to wipe the sweat off his face and neck.

  “You there?” James hears him whisper.

  “Yeah,” he whispers back.

  “How did you know what that word meant?” he asked.

  “It’s used a lot where I come from?” replies James. “Why?”

  “You’re the first one ever to know,” he explains. One of the slavers glances over in his direction, but then after a moment resumes the conversation he’s having with another.

  “Does that mean something to you?” James asks.

  “Yes,” replies the old man. “As far as I know, my family has been the only ones to have used it. Have been for hundreds of years.”

  “Oh?” prompts James.

  He glances over to the slavers to make sure they’re not watching before continuing. “Seems one of my great-great- I don’t know how many grandfathers had been told that someone would come who would know the meaning of it. That we needed to be aware and ready.”

  “Ready for what?” he asks.

  Just then a slaver looks in the old guy’s direction and he gets up to join the others in picking up rubble.

  James almost screams in impatience. Knowing he’s got a while to wait, he sits anxiously next to Jiron under the window. What the man said keeps running through his mind.

  The time seems to pass excruciatingly slow before the slave gang takes their noon meal. When the sound of them clearing away the rubble ceases, James peers out to see the slaves lining up to get their food and water. After receiving his share, the old guy comes back over to take his place on the section of wall by the window.

  “You there?” he whispers just after he sits down.

  “Yes,” replies James. “What were you to be ready for?”

  “You,” he replies. “Didn’t think I’d be the one to live to see it.” Taking a bite of his food, he chews a moment then continues. “Thought the secret our family kept would die with me. You see my son and grandson both perished when the Empire took Saragon, I’m all that’s left.”

  At the word ‘secret’, James’ pulse quickens. “I’m sorry for your family,” he says, offering his condolences.

  “Me too,” he replies sadly. After taking a drink of his water, he says, “Anyway, what’s done is done. Who told my ancestor has been lost, but what was told was not.”

  “What was he told?” asks James. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest in anticipation.

  “That a day would come when one of us was approached by a man who knew the meaning behind the word ‘gesundheit’,” he explains. “We were told ‘To hold the secret safe until such a time. Great tragedy would foretell his coming and the one the man approached would feel as if all hope is lost’.”

  “You can be sure, many times throughout the past, my forefathers have faced tragedy and some had felt that all hope had been lost. Each time they expected the one to come as had been foretold to them. But each time none came.”

  “Through the years, it’s become more of a story than something any of us actually expected would be fulfilled. Since it was a favorite of the kids, we told it often so never lost it.” A sad smile comes to him as he reminisces about his own son and grandson as he told them the story.

  “What was the secret?” prompts James when the old guy remains quiet for several minutes.

  Snapped out of his reverie, he says, “It’s never made much sense to us, and let me tell you we’ve tried to figure it out for centuries.”

  “What was it?” asks James eagerly. “Did it have something to do with Morcyth?”

  “Morcyth?” questions the old man. Shaking his head, he says, “I don’t think so. Wasn’t he a god or something a long time ago?”

  “Something like that,” answers James.

  “There’re three verses. The first ones goes…”

  When the Fire shines Bright

  And the Star walks the Land.

  Time for the Lost

  Will soon be at Hand.

  At the mention of the Fire shining bright and the Star walking the land James and Jiron look at each other. A gleam of recognition can be seen in both their eyes.

  “The second verse is:”

  At the foot of the King

  Bathe in his Cup.

  Pull his Beard

  To make him sit Up.

  “Doesn’t make much sense does it?” he asks.

  “No,” agrees James, “it doesn’t.” He glances to Jiron who looks just as confused at the second verse as he does.

  “And the last one goes…”

  Seven to Nine

  Six to Four.

  Spit in the wind

  And open the door.

  “That’s it,” he tells him. The slaver in charge of the slaves starts to holler for them to resume their work. “I have to go.”

  “Thank you,” says James.

  “I’m glad I was able to fulfill the charge laid upon us,” he says as he slowly gets to his feet. �
�Probably be best if we don’t speak again.”

  “Thank you again,” he says as the old guy walks back to the other slaves. He just nods his head in reply.

  They move away from the window and further into the house where they can talk without running the risk of being heard by those outside.

  “What do you think it means?” Jiron asks him once they’ve reached the inner room.

  Excited, James replies, “The first verse has to refer to the Fire of Dmon-Li and the Star of Morcyth.”

  Nodding, Jiron says, “Yeah, I figured that out already.”

  “‘Time for the lost will soon be at hand’,” says James. “That I’m not sure of.”

  “Could it mean the missing priests of Morcyth?” asks Jiron.

  “Maybe,” he says, shrugging. “The rest of it doesn’t make much sense. But that’s the way with things like this. They can’t make sense until it’s time for them to make sense. Otherwise people will act prematurely.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” comments Jiron. “So, is this what we came here for?”

  “I would think so,” replies James. In his own mind, the feeling of completion is there. “It’s possible there could be more, but I doubt it.”

  “Then we should get out of here,” states Jiron. “Better wait until it’s dark though and go back the way we came.”

  “Wonder if the horses are still there?” says James.

  “Doubt it,” he replies. “They’d be starving by now and probably have broken their tethers. We’ll have to see about getting some more after we get out of here.”

  “Very well,” James says. “Best get some rest before we leave. Could be awhile before we get anymore.”

  They move upstairs where the beds are and Jiron offers to take the first watch. While James is sleeping, he thinks about what they’ve just learned and tries to make sense out of it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  James looks out of the second story window while Jiron is sleeping. The sun had long since fallen below the horizon and the city is shrouded in night. Off in the distance he can see the lights where the occupiers have taken up residence.

  The words the old man had spoken keeps returning to him again and again. They make no sense, but like he told Jiron, that’s the way of these things. He was surprised to find what he came here for in the memory of an old man. But sitting here thinking about it, it makes a sort of sense.

  If it had been hidden physically here in Saragon, then it would have needed to been marked in such a way that it would be recognized. That would’ve meant the Star of Morcyth symbol or something else which assuredly would’ve drawn the attention of those who know and understand the significance of such.

  But to have it secreted in such a way that he practically had to stumble upon it, and to use a word only he or someone from his world would understand, enabled it to remain hidden all these years.

  He can feel the hand of Igor in this. Just as he had trained Jiron and put him in a position to become part of his quest, so must he have also placed this snippet of information in the hands of the old guy’s family centuries ago. He can’t help but wonder if there may have been similar snippets left with different people here in Saragon in the hopes he would stumble across at least one of them. Maybe he’ll ask Igor the next time he sees him. Thinking back to the time he spent in that other world, dimension, whatever, he wonders if he’ll even have the chance. Igor may not have survived the attacks of those creatures.

  A noise behind him causes him to turn where he sees Jiron getting up from the bed. Noticing how dark it is outside, he asks, “You ready to go?”

  Coming away from the window, James says, “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

  Stretching, Jiron begins to move out of the room and to the stairs leading down. He passes down the stairs then over to the doorway across from the collapsed, burned out structure. Beneath which lies the entrance to the secret smuggler passage they used to enter Saragon.

  Taking a moment to ensure no one is on the street, he dashes across to the burned out building, James follows right behind him.

  Pausing a moment, he turns to James and says, “Remember, it’s not very stable so walk where I walk and try not to be on the same section as I am. Our combined weight could cause it to collapse.”

  “I understand,” agrees James.

  The moon overhead gives them some light with which to see by. Jiron begins making his way through the broken structure, taking the same path he used the last time. The first part of the path leads across a beam lying over an open section in the floor. Stepping carefully, he begins to cross.

  James waits outside until he’s cleared the beam, then he steps out upon it and follows. Taking it slow, he stops when he feels the beam begin to shift under him. Grabbing another section of the collapsed ceiling for support, he steadies himself until the beam ceases its shifting. Once the beam again becomes stable, he continues moving along it until he reaches the next one.

  Suddenly, they hear a groan and the entire framework they’re upon collapses. James is thrown from his precarious perch and tries to grab onto a section of what used to be a part of the ceiling. He takes a firm hold of it but it breaks off and he falls through the wreckage all the way to the floor, landing on his back. His breath is knocked out of him and it takes him a minute or two for him to get his lungs working again.

  The section Jiron was on had remained somewhat stable. Holding onto a beam lying slantwise near him, he was able to prevent falling. “You okay?” he hollers down to where James lies upon the floor.

  When he doesn’t receive an answer, he begins making his way down, fearing the worst. From the direction of the street, he hears the sound of several people approaching just as the fragile structure gives out with another groan and another section collapses.

  This time, the beam he’s standing on gives way. Reaching out, he grabs hold of a neighboring beam just in time to prevent himself from falling. Hanging there from the beam, he sees the light from several torches approaching. Holding very still, he hopes to remain unnoticed by the men approaching.

  Voices talking excitedly can be heard as they draw closer to the collapsing building. The light from their torches soon begins to illuminate the wreckage as half a dozen soldiers come to investigate the cause of the collapse. He can hear their excited conversation as their light begins to illuminate the building.

  The light from their torches at last falls upon Jiron as he’s hanging there and one of them cries out when he sees them. Two of them have crossbows and they take aim at him. One of the soldiers says something commandingly to him in the Empire’s language.

  When he doesn’t answer or react, he changes to the common tongue and says, “Come out of there!”

  Looking at two crossbows leveled at him, he glances down to the floor and gauges his chances.

  “Don’t think about it!” the soldier exclaims when he sees him debating about his chances of making it to the floor. “Come out now and you won’t be hurt.”

  Jiron quickly realizes he’ll never make it without being fired upon. He swings his leg up and begins climbing back to the top. The structure groans and another piece on the other side of the building collapses before he makes it all the way out. Once back out to the street, the soldiers quickly bind his hands behind him and remove his knives.

  “Move!” says the soldier who had spoken to him before, as he pushes Jiron to get him moving. They begin marching him down the street, toward the lights of the main encampment.

  James looks up from his position where he’s hiding in the shadows on the floor as Jiron is taken away. Feeling helpless but unable to do anything about it at the moment, he waits for the soldiers to move further down the street. When the light from their torches disappears, he begins making his way up through the unstable wreckage back to the street. Fortunately the settling the structure had done during the last two collapses seems to have made it more stable and he’s able to make it to the street with little difficulty.

/>   When he at last makes it out of the ruined building he can see the party of soldiers with Jiron further down the street. Running as fast as he can, he races to catch up with them. They’re still many blocks away from the area where the Empire’s forces are located. He’s got to get him away from them before they arrive, a small group he can handle, the main force could prove more difficult.

  Jiron’s captors don’t seem to be in any hurry in taking him back to their encampment and it’s easy for James to catch up with them. When he comes near, he slows his pace to avoid making any more noise than necessary. He remains far enough behind them so the light from their torches won’t give him away.

  He concentrates on Jiron’s bonds and they break apart as he releases the magic. Jiron’s arms jerk a fraction before he catches himself and holds them together to maintain the illusion he’s still secured.

  James follows them from a distance as he readies several of his slugs. More death and destruction! Will it ever end? After seeing the dead priests in the temple to Asran, he has less compunction about killing Empire soldiers than he used to. He just prays that he never gets numb to the killing, or worse yet, gets to liking it. Before releasing the slug, the thought crosses his mind of the woman who’ll be waiting at home for the husband who’ll never return. Or the children who will never see their daddy again. He hates war and everything to do with it!

  But, he has no choice if he’s to save Jiron. Sometimes situations in life only give you the choice between bad and worse.

  Jiron was startled when his bindings snapped and almost wasn’t able to recover in time to prevent them from falling to the ground. Back at the collapsing building, he had been afraid that James might have been seriously injured, or even dead from his fall. But when his bonds broke, he knew he was not only alive, but following them.

  The soldier marching next to him has his two knives sticking out of his belt. He readies himself for what’s to come next. They walk for several more yards and nothing happens. Come on James! What’re you waiting for!