He flashes James a dark look, “You mean go all the way back there, on the chance that no one has yet looked inside and seen them?” He shakes his head, “I don’t know.”
“You’re the only one who can do it,” James urges.
He sits and thinks for a few minutes, everyone else remains quiet, waiting for his response. “Alright, I’ll do it,” he finally says. Getting up, he goes over to his horse and begins putting the saddle and tack back on.
“Shouldn’t you wait till morning,” Cassie asks.
Shaking his head, he says, “No, I better get started now. The sooner I get there, the less likely someone will have read the papers.”
James comes over and gives him some coins. He looks at them and James tells him, “For traveling expenses.”
He takes the coins, putting them in a pocket. Once he has the horse ready for travel, he mounts and says, “Where shall I meet up with you?”
“Well continue down the road and stop at the next main town,” James explains. “We’ll stay there for a day, and if you don’t show up we’ll continue on to Korazan.”
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Be careful,” Delia and Cassie say at the same time.
“I will,” he assures them. “See you in a couple days.” He then heads his horse back down the road to the north and kicks it into a gallop as he races for Mountainside.
“Hope he’ll make it back,” Cassie says, worry in her voice.
“He will,” Tinok says with confidence. He looks into the night where Jiron had disappeared and says again, “He will!”
Chapter Eight
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Jiron leaves them quickly behind as he races through the cool of the night. As frustrated as he is at James for having to go back and retrieve his stupid backpack, he finds it refreshing to ride in the cool of the night, on his own.
Making very good time, it’s not long before the lights of Arakan appear in the road ahead of him. Remembering the soldiers stationed there, he swings wide to avoid being spotted. As he rounds the town, he spies one of the townsfolk standing outside one of the outermost buildings, his form silhouetted by the light coming through an open doorway. The man must’ve heard the sound of his horse, for he turns in his direction and peers intently, but is unable to see him in the darkness. Sensing no threat, the man returns to what he was doing. Jiron finishes bypassing the town and then returns to the road, soon leaving Arakan far behind.
Continuing to race north, another hour finds him at the quiet village of Bindles. Only a few lights can be seen amongst the buildings, the rest are dark as the inhabitants are asleep in their beds for the night.
He swings wide around the town and reaches the juncture of roads on the far side, where he follows the road eastward. The mountains now loom large on his left as he races down the road. He begins to detect the faint odor of burnt wood, testament to the forest fire they escaped from some time earlier.
Once he’s several miles east of Bindles, he gets down from his horse and walks for a while, giving his horse a break. Ten minutes later, he’s back in the saddle and riding hard.
As he continues north, the odor of smoke becomes stronger and stronger. After another two hours, he begins to see a glow coming from far ahead, where the fire is still raging upon the mountain. As he rides, the glow becomes more and more pronounced, until he’s finally able to see the flames themselves as they arc into the sky.
Off to the east, the sky begins to lighten with the coming of dawn, enabling him to see an incredibly large cloud of smoke extending for miles in every direction.
Down the road ahead, a town comes into view amidst the smoke. The fire is within a mile of the outskirts and at first looks to be deserted. As he comes closer to the town, he sees that it isn’t as deserted as it had first appeared. A few people are seen passing from building to building and they all have cloths tied about their faces to protect them from the smoke.
Realizing an opportunity when he sees it, Jiron pulls up to one of the houses at the outskirts of town. He ties his horse to a tree out back before going up to the backdoor. Finding it locked, he moves to a window and looks inside, the place looks deserted. Going back to the door, he looks around quickly to make sure no one is near and then kicks it open. Entering quickly, he shuts the door behind him.
The house is quiet, the people most likely having fled the approaching fire long ago. He quickly finds a cloth and ties it around his face, effectively disguising himself. Coming back out to where his horse is tied, he remounts and tries to find where the jail had been.
He passes several people moving along the streets as he makes his way through town, but no one gives him a second thought. Up near the fire, he sees dozens of people trying to halt the advancing flames with axes and shovels, doing their best to save their homes but it doesn’t look as if they’re being too successful. Just as a group has a space cleared in the hopes of preventing it from spreading, a tree engulfed with flame falls across the cleared area, starting new fires past the fire break. People rush to beat them out before they have a chance to spread but are having limited success.
None of the firefighters on the mountain look to be soldiers, though from this distance and with all the smoke it’s hard to be sure. As he continues toward the jail, he doesn’t come across any soldiers here in town either. Guess we got them all up on the mountain.
Out of the smoke ahead of him, the jail suddenly comes into view. Cautiously, he slows down as he takes a good survey of the surrounding area for any soldiers. Not finding any, he makes his way toward the jail all the while continuously scanning for anyone approaching. But with all the smoke in the area, they would have to be really close before they would even know he was there.
Upon reaching the jail, he secures his horse to the rail outside and goes up to a window to look in. A quick look reveals the jail to be empty, a lucky break. Off to one side of the main room a table had been overturned, most likely during their jail break. Spilled on the floor beside it is James’ backpack along with their knives and other belongings.
Surprised and pleased to see all their stuff still there and apparently untouched, he glances around to make sure he’s unobserved and then enters the jail. Hurrying over to where his knives lie on the floor, he picks them up first and belts them on, feeling good now that he has them again. Stuffing Tinok’s knives into the backpack, he then slings the backpack over a shoulder and proceeds back to the front door. The sound of approaching horses stops him before he opens the door.
Moving to a window, he looks out and discovers twenty enemy soldiers approaching on horseback. He watches them for a few seconds, and when he realizes they’re on their way to the jail, he runs to the cells in the back and slips through the hole in the wall James had made during their escape. By the time he’s reached the alley behind the jail, the sound of them talking can be heard from where they’ve stopped out front. What they are saying is unknown as Jiron doesn’t speak the Empire’s language.
He slips around the back to the side alley and moves to the end where he can peer around to observe the riders out front. The majority of the soldiers are still upon their horses, one lone horse stands without a rider. Jiron’s horse sits in the middle of the group and it doesn’t appear as if anyone is paying it any attention. Shortly, a soldier’s voice can be heard calling out to the others from within the jail.
The one whose attire marks him to be an officer barks out orders and half of the remaining men dismount, as does he. The others remaining on their horses turn and proceed to move quickly in different directions through the town, as if they’re looking for something. Then he hears another soldier’s voice from inside shout excitedly as he finds the hole in the cell.
Jiron looks longingly at his horse sitting there amidst the others for a moment and then begins to hurry back to the alley running behind jail. When he reaches it, he turns to follow it away from the jail. Just as he reaches the end of the alley
, he pauses a moment and glances back toward the jail. A soldier sticks his head out of the hole in the wall, looking first one way then the other.
He quickly slips around the corner to avoid being seen by the soldier. Not hearing any outcry from him, he breathes a sigh of relief at not having been spotted. He continues down the side alley until he comes to a door. Finding it unlocked, he slips inside and closes it behind him.
This one looks to be another residence, the room he finds himself in has two tables, four chairs and a one long couch. It was probably where the lady of the house would greet guests and have tea. He moves to a window and keeps a lookout on what the soldiers are doing.
They appear to be searching for something, maybe he and the others. The riders seem to be combing the streets while the officer stays within the jail with several of the others. He hopes they’ll just up and leave so he can retrieve his horse. He’ll never make it back to the others without it.
The entrance to the jail is barely discernable through the thick smoke that envelopes the town, but he’s able to see the officer come out, obviously upset and angry. He barks out more orders and several of the men on foot climb back into their saddles, racing off to the south. The officer stands there a moment as he looks at the fire and the people trying to halt its course.
Jiron continues to watch as two of his men appear out of the smoke with a man held between them. They bring him over to the leader and when they’re five feet from him, force the man to his knees.
The officer asks the kneeling man in the northern tongue, “Where are the men that were stationed here?”
The man on his knees just shakes his head.
The officer signals and one of the men twists one of the man’s arms, making him cry out. “I said, where are my men?”
“I don’t know!” the man cries out.
“Something happened here,” the officer says and then comes forward. Grabbing the man’s hair, he yanks his head back and stares into his eyes. “What!” he demands.
Gasping through the pain in his arm, the man exclaims, “I don’t know! They brought some people in and had them imprisoned in the jail.”
“Who were they?” the officer snaps.
“We never found out!” the man cries, tears rolling down his face from the pain he’s experiencing.
The officer lets go of the man’s hair and then nods his head to his man who releases his grip on the man’s arm. “Then what?” he asks.
Holding his arm tight across his chest, the man keeps his head down while he answers. Jiron has to really strain to hear what was being said. “Then that night, all hell broke loose. We heard shouting and fighting and when it was calm again, there was a hole in the wall of the jail and several of the soldiers were dead.”
“How could people in cells have caused all that?” he looks intently at the man. When the officer pauses for an answer, the man looks up but just shakes his head. The officer continues, “Did the townsfolk help them?”
“Oh, no!” the man cries. “We did not! We didn’t even realize they had anyone there until after it was over.” He looks to the officer, hoping to be believed.
“Then what?”
“You’re men gave chase as the prisoners fled up into the mountains,” the man replies, bowing his head once more. “Some time later the soldiers returned, several of them having been killed I heard. The next morning, the officer in charge took his whole garrison up after them, but none came back. Shortly after that, the fire swept down the mountainside, almost like magic, engulfing tree after tree.”
“Magic, you say?” the officer asks intently.
The man looks up at the officer’s eyes boring into his, “It seemed like it, as fast as the fire spread.”
“Hmmm,” the officer mumbles as he thinks to himself. “Let him go,” he says to his men who then release the man. To the man he says, “If you and your folk had a hand in the killing of my men, I will cut the throat of every man, woman and child here and raze this town to the ground!”
Fear in his eyes, the man exclaims, “We didn’t!”
“We’ll see,” and then waves his hand, dismissing him. The man turns and flees down the street as fast as his legs will carry him, never once looking back.
The officer and his men confer for a few minutes and then return inside the jail.
“Damn!” Jiron quietly exclaims. Why did he have to say ‘magic?’ Hopefully they won’t put, as James says, two and two together. He continues watching but everything remains quiet. His horse remains tied to the post outside the jail, along with the others.
Figuring on a wait before he’ll be able to reclaim his horse, he looks through the house and discovers some bread and fruit in the kitchen. He pulls a chair close to the window so he can keep an eye on what’s going on outside as he eats.
Nothing of interest happens while he’s eating, soldiers continue to come and go from the jail, and the occasional townsman runs past carrying a shovel or some other item used to combat the fire. After he’s finished, he tries to think of a way to retrieve his horse while he sits there looking out the window. The last twenty four hours begin to catch up with him and he finds himself yawning and rubbing his eyes.
Deciding on a short nap since he has to wait anyway, he climbs the stairs to the second floor and finds a bedroom with a suitably large bed. He places the backpack beside him on the bed as he lies down and then takes out one of his knives, keeping it in his hand in case of trouble.
Closing his eyes, he quickly falls asleep.
Voices from below waken him. He sits up abruptly and then makes his way to the bedroom door to listen. He can hear two, maybe three people downstairs talking in the Empire’s tongue, soldiers most likely. Returning to the bed, he grabs the backpack and then silently makes his way to the top of the stairs.
Looking down, he can see one of the soldiers with a partially filled sack in his hand, opening drawers and looking through them. Occasionally, he would take something out and put it in his sack. Looting, Jiron thinks. The soldier says something to the others and then makes his way to the stairs, looking as if he means to go up to the second floor.
Thinking fast, Jiron hurries into the bedroom again, flips a coin on the bed and then swings the door all the way into the room as he hides in the space between it and the wall. Shielded behind the door, he listens to the footsteps of the soldier as he comes up the stairs.
His heart beating fast, Jiron hears the soldier coming down the hallway toward him. When the footsteps come to the open door, he hears the soldier pause and then gasp as he sees the silver coin sitting on the bed. Jiron then hears him enter the room, hurrying over to pick up the coin to put in his sack.
As the soldier reaches the bed, Jiron silently comes out from behind the door with both knives drawn. Catching the soldier by surprise, he’s able to quickly take him out with minimal noise. Easing the dead body of the soldier onto the bed, he takes back his coin and then returns to the hallway, shutting the door behind him.
Returning to the top of the stairs, he listens as the other two are still rummaging around downstairs. One of them raises his voice and then pauses. He speaks louder this time and again pauses. The two down below begin whispering among themselves and then Jiron hears them both hurrying to the foot of the stairs.
Jiron returns quickly back toward the room with the dead soldier and enters a closet sitting across the hallway from the room. He closes the door just enough to leave a thin opening through which he can see out. Looking out through the crack, he observes the other two coming down the hallway, going from room to room as they holler for their companion. When they come to the room where the dead body lies, they both rush in. He hears them say something and then a moment later one of them exclaims and they begin to hurry out of the room.
When the first one exits and is close enough, Jiron kicks the door to the closet open, catching him in the shoulder, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. With both knives drawn, he advances on the other soldier
as the man exits the room.
Having seen his friend being knocked down by the swinging door, the last soldier draws his sword and thrusts at Jiron’s midsection.
Easily deflecting the blade with the knife in his right hand, Jiron slashes with his other, scoring along the man’s forearm. Keeping an eye on his companion, he presses the man with a series of attacks which soon has him bleeding from several different wounds.
The soldier on the floor gets back up and advances on Jiron with sword drawn, coming to his partner’s aid. He thrusts at Jiron but fails to connect when Jiron twists to avoid the incoming blade.
As the blade goes past, Jiron strikes out and stabs the man in his exposed armpit, puncturing a lung. The man goes down coughing and blood begins welling out of his mouth as his lungs fill with blood.
Seeing his partner fall, the remaining soldier goes back into the room where the dead soldier lies, and then grabs a chair and throws it through the window. As the window shatters, he runs over to it and begins hollering to someone outside. He then turns and looks at Jiron with an evil smile and says something to him in his language.
Realizing he’s about to be inundated with soldiers, Jiron turns and races for the stairs, hoping to escape the house before they make it inside. When he reaches the top, hears the door downstairs slamming open as many soldiers rush into the house. He turns and sees the remaining soldier coming out of the room, sword drawn and ready.
Looking around, he sees a trap door in the ceiling down the hallway, past the soldier. He throws the backpack at him, causing him to move to avoid being hit. Jiron advances upon him fast with a flurry of attacks that soon has him lying dead on the floor. Picking up the backpack again, he races to the trapdoor and pulls on the rope attached to it. He can hear soldiers running up the stairs.
The trapdoor comes down and a step ladder unfolds, allowing access to the attic. As he begins to climb the stairs, he hears someone shout behind him. He turns and sees enemy soldiers running down the hallway toward him.
Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two Page 11
