The mists of sorrow ms-7

by Brian S. Pratt

  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.

  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.

  There are guards moving along the street but they don’t pay James and the others any more attention than they do to everyone else. They’re there more to keep order than looking for men wanted by the Empire.

  Jiron leans next to James and whispers, “Word about what happened up north hasn’t reached here yet.”

  James nods and whispers back, “Doesn’t look like it.” Then all of a sudden the tingling sensation runs across his skin. Magic is close. He starts looking around to find its source when Brother Willim takes notice of what he’s doing. Moving his horse closer he says, “It’s the temple. They’re performing magic there.”

  Calming down, James turns to look at him. “It is a school,” Brother Willim explains. “They are just practicing.”

  “I hope you’re right,” he says. Still unnerved by the constant tingling, he continues to scan the area for any mages. And come to think of it, this is the first time he’s felt the presence of another doing magic other than those he’s traveling with, since that battle with the mages. Could it be possible he took them all out with the explosion? He doubts it, but why else would no mages be present? Nor warrior priests for that matter, just that one time in the Mists of Sorrow when they were attacked. Definitely curious.

  Pressing on into town, they reach an area where five streets converge onto a large plaza area. In the center of the plaza is a large stone structure easily three stories tall. On one side, teen feet from the ground, a long wooded pole extends outward for about fifteen feet. Then it connects to another series of wooden beams that form a lattice work above where four mules are turning a wheel.

  At the base of the tower on the opposite side from where the mules turn the wheel, water issues forth to fill a large trough area. Women, slaves, and small children are there filling large jugs with water.

  “So this is where their water comes from,” James observes. “They pump it from beneath the ground.”

  “It would take many such buildings to satisfy the thirst of so many people,” Brother Willim adds.

  “There well may be more,” James replies.

  Three smaller troughs catch the overflow from the larger. All three have children playing in them. One man has paused next to one of the smaller troughs and is allowing his horse to drink.

  As their horses are in need of water, they move to another of the smaller troughs and let them drink their fill. While there, James takes a closer look at the water pump. Always one interested in ancient technology, he admires what they’ve accomplished. Though with his technologically advanced knowledge, he can see where they could improve on the design.

  Slaves, both male and female, come and go as they fill water jugs. The sight of them fills James with disgust. How one human being can ever consider another as property is beyond his understanding. Off to one side, a small child dressed in a slave loincloth is being strapped by an older man. James feels a hand on his shoulder and that’s when he realizes he was on his way over to rescue the child. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Jiron there.

  “We can’t,” he says.

  James can see the pain in his eyes too. Ever since traveling with James, he’s grown much more conscious to the plight of those around him, especially kids. Steeling himself, James turns his back and tries to shut out the crying of the child. “Let’s get out of here,” he tells Jiron.

  “Sure,” he says. Then he returns to the others and they start to get back in the saddle.

  James walks woodenly to his horse and mounts. Unable to help himself, he glances back to where the child was being beaten and finds him lying unmoving on the ground. The man has stopped strapping the boy and says something to the child as he nudges him with his toe. Still the child remains unmoving.

  He watches in horror as the man works the toe of his boot under the body and flips it over. The boy’s head lolls to one side. That’s when it finally hit home that the man must have killed the boy. His vision turns red as anger suffuses him. A slug makes its way into his hand and he cocks back his arm to deliver judgment on the man for the death of the child. Just as he’s about to throw, an arm grabs his and stops him. Turning, he sees Miko there.

  “The child’s not dead,” he says quietly. “Though he will be if we do nothing.”

  Turning back to the boy, he sees the man nudge him one more time with his foot then turn and walk away. None of the other people on the street even so much as bat an eye at what this man has done to a child. Probably because the child is a slave and who really cares about the fate of a slave.

  Leaping from his horse, James runs across the plaza toward the child. Picking him up, he can tell that he’s only unconscious. Blood from the boy’s wounds where the man’s strap had cut into him smears his arms and clothes but he doesn’t care.

  Standing up, he turns back only to find Jiron standing there. “Find us an inn, fast!” he insists.

  Jiron looks about ready to protest. Then he sees the seriousness in James’ face and nods. Moving over to Reilin, he points toward the main thoroughfare and tells him to find the first inn and ge
t them some rooms. Moving quickly, he hurries to get it done.

  James starts carrying the boy toward the street where Reilin disappeared in search of an inn. Miko is beside him and has a hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s going to make it,” he assures him.

  Hardly even hearing him, all he can think of was that he turned his back on this child and it almost cost him his life. Never again.

  The others are following along behind, Scar and Potbelly are leading James and Miko’s horses. When Reilin appears in the street ahead of them, he holds up several keys indicating he’s procured rooms for them. Having him lead the way, James follows with the boy.

  Jiron has the others take the horses around back to the stable as he and Brother Willim accompanies James and Miko inside. The inn is rather nice, probably costs way too much, but he fails to notice. All his thoughts are now on the boy.

  Reilin takes them through the front door and skirts around the common room. The proprietor sees them carrying the boy in but doesn’t say anything when he sees the slave cloth around his loins. Up the stairs and down the hall, he takes them to the third door on the right and opens it for James.

  Moving into the room, James takes the boy to one of the two beds and lays him down. Beside him, the glow from the Star appears as Miko begins healing the boy. James backs away and gives him some room when Jiron comes, grabs his shoulder and turns him around. He can see Jiron is not very happy about this.

  “What do you think we’re going to do with that boy?” he asks. “You know where we’re going.” He gazes into James’s eyes for a second then says, “Unless you are planning on letting him go and become a slave again.”

  Shaking his head, James states, “No, he’ll not be a slave again.”

  “So are we taking him with us?” Jiron asks. “He can’t be more than eight or nine at the most, maybe younger. He’ll slow us down.”

  “Jiron,” Aleya says as she enters the room behind him, “he’s coming with us whether you like it or not.”

  Tuning on her, he says, “We are going into battle. There’s no way that child belongs there.”