“With luck this will be our last time,” Jiron states.
“I hope so,” admits James. “You know, I would love to simply sit by a river under a warm sun and do nothing for the rest of my life.”
Laughing, Jiron says, “Don’t we all.” Aleya snakes her arm around his middle as they move through the door to where the horses are tied.
Off to the east the sky is beginning to lighten with the coming of dawn. As James swings into the saddle, still weary due to lack of sufficient sleep, he can’t help but revel in the peace this time of day brings. Still and quiet, it’s almost as if the world stops in anticipation of the sun’s rise.
When Scar and Potbelly exit the farmhouse, they report that the men aren’t likely to get free. Then they mount and James leads them back toward the road. He angles in a slightly more southerly direction to avoid encountering the inn and the people there. Things should be okay, but you never know.
By the time the road comes into view the sun has crested the horizon and is already warming the day. Jiron pulls alongside James and asks him if he can check to be sure Tinok still lies to the southwest.
Pulling out the cloth, he lets the magic flow and they both watch as the cloth once more rises toward the southwest. “Still there,” James observes.
“Good,” he replies.
“Plan to check on this prostitute should our path lead through Inziala?” James asks.
“Yes,” he says. “But if our road should lead elsewhere, I won’t worry about it.” He rides in silence for about a minute before adding, “Though I worry what it could mean that he no longer has it.” Glancing over to where James is riding he says, “He wouldn’t have parted with it easily.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so,” replies James. Considering how much he cared for Cassie and the degree in which he reacted to her death, James can’t imagine anything parting him from that necklace except imminent death.
They continue following the road all morning long as it winds its way alongside the river. Twice they’ve come across ruined bridges that Illan had destroyed on his march north. One of them was already in the process of being repaired, workers on both sides were working to smooth the ragged edges. They observe a gang of slaves who are clearing the broken stone of the old bridge away and taking it to waiting wagons for transportation.
Close to the area where they work to repair the bridge, a makeshift wooden bridge spans the river allowing those on foot and wagons to cross. The make-up of the bridge is reminiscent of the bridges Delia and Hedry’s force took out back at Lythylla.
“That didn’t last too long,” comments Jiron. When James glances to him he says, “I would have thought it would take longer to get trade going again across the river.”
“They can’t afford to have their routes impaired for too long,” replies James. “I suspect we’ll see this all along the river.”
Then all of a sudden as a wagon was crossing over the makeshift bridge, the section it’s on breaks off from the main body and begins floating down the river. Jiron guffaws and says, “I suppose they still don’t have a handle on it.”
James returns the smile with, “It doesn’t look like it.”
Men on both sides of the river run along its banks as they try to help the stranded wagon. The bridge section begins to spin with the current and the horses attached to the wagon start to panic. For reasons unknown, the horses suddenly bolt and drag the wagon into the river. The driver dives off into the current just before the wagon is pulled into the water.
Screams of the horses are heard as they struggle against the traces which drag them beneath the waters. Soon, it grows quiet as the river wins out and drags them under completely.
“Too bad for the horses,” Aleya says. The others nod agreement. The section of bridge floating upon the river continues to slowly spin as it flows downstream until it finally disappears in the distance. An hour later they come to where the bridge section was stopped in its southward voyage when it got snagged on a sandbar in a bend of the river.
“Think they’ll come get it?” asks Stig.
“Who knows,” replies Scar. Keeping a steady pace, they soon leave the broken section of bridge behind them.
Once the sun is high in the sky, they pull off the road to allow the horses a chance to rest and for them to get a quick bite to eat. Off in the distance to the south on the far side of the river lies the outline of a town.
“A day or so south of that town lies Korazan,” announces Stig. “Should be interesting to see what they’ve done to the place since we left.”
“Could your friend be there?” asks Reilin.
Jiron stops dead in his tracks. He never even thought of that. If something had happened to Tinok, he could very well be sitting in a slave pen at Korazan. Glancing to James he asks, “If he is, could you see him in your mirror?”
“A day away?” he muses. “Possibly.” Taking out his mirror, he concentrates on Tinok. Again, the mirror remains placid, the only thing he sees in it is his own reflection. “Nothing,” he says. “Still, it could be that we’re still too far away. I’ll look again before it gets dark tonight.”
“Okay,” Jiron says.
After the break, they return to the road and continue their way south. The city on the opposite side of the river they saw during the break continues to grow until they reach where a branching of the road moves toward the river.
A wide bridge once spanned the river where the road crosses over, but now it’s just two broken ends jutting from the ground on either side. Wagons and people have formed a bottleneck while they wait for their turn to cross. Two of the makeshift bridges span the water similar in nature to the one they encountered earlier. One of the bridges is used for traffic coming from the town and the other for those going the other way. A single wagon is making the crossing toward the town while a dozen people use the other on their way to the road James and the others are on.
“Wonder what would have happened if that bridge that broke loose further up had made it this far,” supposes Scar.
“I doubt if those two bridges there would have survived the impact,” James says.
“How long do you suppose it is going to take them to get the bridges we destroyed rebuilt?” asks Jiron.
“Years, I would think,” replies James.
As they move on past, they keep watching those who are there at the bridge waiting to cross. It’s obvious those in line are not happy about the speed with which the crossings are taking place. After several single wagons cross, one at a time, James tells the others that it’s probably due to the unstable nature of the makeshift bridge. Too much weight at one time could cause them to break away like the other one did earlier.
The bridge and the people waiting to cross soon disappear behind them. Not much further after that they come to where a road from the east joins with theirs. At the junction, the river bends sharply to the east and the road moves to follow it.
“I remember this place,” Potbelly suddenly announces. “I figure Korazan is only another day and a half’s ride away.”
“You sure?” asks James.
“Oh yes,” he replies. “A sharp turn in the river followed by a town on the other side. Last time we came through here I was commenting to Scar how this would be a good defensible spot if someone was trying to cross over to the west.”
“That’s right,” Scar says. “You brought it up because of the time up in Rycklin…” For the next half hour, he and Potbelly regale everyone with a tale of daring-do that, aside from being the usual unbelievable fare, is quite interesting. At least it helps to pass the time.
They’re able to maintain a quick pace throughout the day and have covered many miles before the sun begins to set. With no inn or other suitable locale available, they pull off the road and make camp next to the river.
While the others are collecting firewood and preparing the meal, James removes his mirror and tries to locate Tinok. Still no luck. He glances back at Jiron who was watchin
g the mirror over his shoulder. “I don’t think he’s in Korazan,” he says. “I should have been able to find him by now if he were.”
Crestfallen, Jiron sighs and goes over to where Aleya has laid out their bedrolls off to one side. James watches as he sits next to her and leans his head against her shoulder. Memories of Meliana come to him as he watches her put a comforting arm around him.
Putting away his mirror, he wonders what she’s doing right now. He sure misses the way she felt when they were in each other’s arms. It seems so long ago that he last held her, could she have found someone else by now? A woman isn’t going to wait around forever. When this business with Tinok is over he’s going to find a way to either go and see her or have her come to him.
Not for the first time he wonders how his grandparents would react if they knew he was in love. He really believes they would have taken to Meliana, she’s a real nice woman.
“You okay?”
Snapping out of his reverie, he looks up to see Miko approaching with two plates of food. “I’m fine,” he replies. “Just thinking of home.”
“Me too,” he admits. Handing James his plate, Miko sits on the ground next to him. “The guys back in Bearn wouldn’t know it was me now.”
“Not likely,” James agrees. The fare this evening is a simple stew made of dried beef and some old tubers that Brother Willim had produced. Where he got them no one knows and none felt like asking.
They sit and eat in silence for awhile. James glances at his friend and can see there’s something on his mind. “So,” he begins, “how is being a High Priest?”
Miko finishes off a piece of tough beef as he thinks of his reply. “Frankly,” he says after swallowing, “it scares me to death.”
“You seem to be handling it well so far,” James says encouragingly.
“It’s not what I’m doing now that bothers me,” he admits. Then he turns to face his friend and in a hushed voice he says, “I am responsible for increasing Morcyth’s presence on this world. How am I to do that?”
“Does the Book of Morcyth tell you anything?” he asks.
“I haven’t had much time to read it at any great length,” he explains. “I sort of skip around to see what’s in there.”
“And?” prompts James.
“And it’s full of rules, rituals and some other stuff I have no clue as to what it’s trying to tell me.” He takes half a tuber and sticks it into his mouth whole while he watches James for his response.
Trying to keep the smile from breaking out at seeing Miko work that tuber from one side of his mouth to the other in an attempt to reduce its size, he says, “Relax. Rather than being scared, be happy. Maybe even excited.” At Miko’s scoffing expression, he adds, “Think of it this way. Out of the millions of people on this world, you were chosen to be Morcyth’s representative. That’s got to make you feel pretty special, at least a little.”
Finally managing to get the tuber down to a reasonable size, he finishes it off quickly. “It does,” he admits. “I just don’t want to let anyone down.”
“Can’t,” James tells him. “Do what the book tells you, never go against what you think is right, and you’ll do fine.”
“I will,” he says.
“Then you’ll have no problems,” James states matter-of-factly.
Then the grin that James remembers from before Miko began to be changed by the Fire makes an appearance. “Well, there is one problem I’ve been having lately,” he says, the grin getting wider.
“And what would that be?” asks James.
“I have an unbelievable craving for tarts,” he says then breaks out into laughter. James joins in and they finish the rest of their meal while rehashing old adventures, both fun and otherwise.
Chapter Fourteen
The following morning they hit the road before the sun crests the horizon. Traffic upon the road gradually increases with the rising of the sun. By the time noon has come, the level of travelers reaches those they encountered the day before.
Small villages become more frequent the further they go. Most are little more than clusters of buildings that cater to travelers. Usually consisting of an inn, a tavern and a dozen or so other buildings that are quite likely the houses they live in. Less than half of these areas have a chandler’s shop of one kind or another. At one such spot, they take their noon meal and resupply their depleting stock of trail rations.
Once seated within the inn’s common room and have placed their order, Reilin asks their server how much further is Korazan. “You should arrive there before nightfall,” she explains. Then she takes a moment to give them a closer look. “You’re not from the Empire are you?”
After a brief confab with the others Reilin replies, “No. We are from Cardri looking for trading opportunities.”
“I thought so,” she states with a knowing nod. “You might want to stay clear of Korazan.”
“Why?” Reilin asks her.
“Earlier this summer, they had a bad time when Black Hawk’s army came through,” she explains.
“Bad?” he asks.
She nods her head in reply. “They say he and his men pillaged and burned down half the town,” she goes on to explain. “One man from Korazan who came through here afterward said that Black Hawk left so many dead that the streets were literally flowing with blood.”
“But why should that have anything to do with us?” he asks.
“You’re from the north,” she says, as if that should explain everything.
“Right,” he says. When their server leaves he relays everything she said to the others.
“We can’t bypass Korazan,” insists Jiron, “no matter the risk. Tinok might be there!”
“I don’t think he is,” replies James. “If he were, I should have been able to find him by now.”
“I say we go to Korazan,” Jiron says, his gaze turning to meet the eyes of everyone. As if to dare them to say no.
James thinks a moment then says, “How about this.” When he has Jiron’s attention again he continues. “We have been trusting my cloth trick to lead the way, correct?”
“Correct,” concedes Jiron.
“Then let’s do this,” he explains. “We bypass Korazan. If, when we are on the south side and the cloth points back toward Korazan, then we go. Otherwise we continue to follow wherever it may lead.”
Jiron mulls that over in his mind. He knows James’ magic is seldom, if ever, wrong. Nodding, he says, “Very well. If once we are on the far side it still points south, then I will forget about Korazan.”
Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing anyone wanted was to return and spend any amount of time there. If there was any place where they may be recognized, it would be at Korazan.
“Then I suggest when we come close, we leave the road at that time,” Stig says. “If we go to the city and skirt around its walls, it could seem suspicious.”
“I agree,” nods James.
When their meal of goat, bread and a root reminiscent of a carrot arrives, they dig in with gusto. At one point in the meal Shorty mumbles under his breath, “…flowing with blood.”
“What?” James asks.
Looking up from his plate, Shorty didn’t realize he had spoken aloud. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s just that we barely even went into town. The way they make it sound, we killed half the people and left their bodies rotting in the streets.”
Scar laughs at that. “Pay it no mind,” he replies. “In a few years the story will grow to that we killed half the town and bathed in their blood.”
“Probably,” agrees Potbelly. “Remember that time with Oofa?” Scar nods.
“Oofa?” asks Jiron. “I don’t think I heard that one.”
“Oofa was a man who often came to the Pits to watch me fight,” he explains. “He was a self proclaimed aficionado of the Pits. Claimed he knew everything about everybody.”
James and Miko give each other a knowing glance and grin. Potbelly may not realize it, b
ut he and Scar come off as just that type every now and then.
“One night, he took me out to dinner,” he continues. “Said he wanted to get to know me better so he would be able to make more informed wagers.” Shrugging, he looks around at the others and says, “A meal’s a meal.”
“Was this guy about five foot six with a bad comb-over?” asks Stig.
Smiling, Scar says, “That’s the guy.”
“I remember him now,” he says. “Always managed to get a spot right in front.”
“Back to my story,” Potbelly interjects. “While we were eating, he made some comment about how he’s bleeding this one lord dry. Apparently he and this lord bet often and Oofa always won. Anyway, the next day, he’s arrested.”
Scar begins laughing and says, “Someone must have overheard their conversation. By the time the rumor mill churned it out, he was an assassin bent on killing this lord.”
Potbelly starts laughing now and others join in. “It took him three days to straighten the misunderstanding out,” explains Potbelly. “The lord, too proud to admit that he spent time at the Pits, claimed he didn’t know the guy.” Tears coming from his eyes, he concludes with, “The day after Oofa was released, the lord showed up at the Pits sporting two black eyes and a split lip!” Unable to contain himself anymore, Potbelly slaps the table and almost chokes to death on a piece of carrot. Scar slaps him on the back and dislodges it for him.
Laughing with the rest of them, James is suddenly aware that the entire room is quiet and the other guests are staring at them. Sobering up quickly, he works to quiet the others down a bit. “Everyone’s staring at us,” he says quietly. “We don’t want to attract attention.” One by one they calm down. When the laughter finally stops, the other patrons return to their meal and the buzz of conversation resumes.
They hurry through their meal and are soon back on the road. Taking out his mirror while he rides, he brings Korazan’s image into focus. He sees the gaping wall where they made their way into the slaver compound. A mile out of town lies a mound of dirt that wasn’t there the last time. Probably the mass grave where they buried the dead after the battles.
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