Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two

by Brian S. Pratt

  Suddenly, just when the rider is almost upon him, another horse runs full tilt into his attacker, knocking the horse off its stride. As Stig’s horse crashes into the other, he vaults from his saddle and grabs the rider, dragging him to the ground. Stig lands on top of the rider and gets up first, mace smashing into him as he tries to rise, crushing his shoulder. He follows through with another blow that caves in the side of the man’s head. Looking around, he sees Shorty engaged with one of the unhorsed horsemen and hurries over to render aid.

  Able now to focus his attention on the remaining man, Shorty circles as he looks for an opening. The enemy strikes out with his sword and he deflects it to the side with the knife in his left hand. He twirls quickly and his elbow connects with the man’s face, blood flowing from his broken nose.

  The man staggers backward and then comes again at Shorty, who easily deflects another blow. Kicking out, Shorty knocks him backward toward the approaching Stig. As the man regains his balance, he’s struck from behind in the head with Stig’s mace and falls to the ground, lifeless.

  Looking around, Shorty sees the battle is pretty much over, the last horseman is engaged with Yorn. Seeing his fellows dead or dying, the horseman starts to flee as he turns his horse and begins racing across the desert. Shorty is about to holler when the man falls to the ground amidst a gory spray as James’ slug exits the man’s chest.

  “Anyone hurt?” Jiron shouts out over the battlefield.

  “Slight cut, but nothing serious,” Yorn yells back. Everyone else has sustained only minor injuries as well.

  “Are any left alive?” James shouts.

  “One!” replies Shorty as he comes to the one he sliced on the forearm. The man is lying there, trying with little luck to stop the blood from flowing out of the wound.

  “Roland!” James hollers back over to where he’s waiting with Potbelly and the ladies. “We need you!” He continues over to the fallen man as Roland and the others ride up to him.

  “How may I help?” he asks when he reaches James.

  James indicates the fallen man and says, “Maybe we can find out what their orders were and where they were to patrol.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he says as he dismounts and comes over to the fallen man. He starts to talk to him, but the man is unresponsive, just stares back at him.

  “He’s not going to cooperate,” Roland tells him.

  Looking to James, Stig asks, “Is this important?”

  “Could be,” James replies.

  Stig draws a knife and comes over to the man as he says to Roland, “Ask him again.”

  Stig holds the knife in front of the man’s face, intimidating him as Roland again begins speaking to him.

  The man’s eyes widen but still he refuses to say anything. “Tell him if he doesn’t answer, I’ll start removing fingers,” he says to Roland as he grabs the man’s forefinger, placing the edge of the knife against it.

  Still the man doesn’t answer, so true to his word, Stig takes a firm hold of the man’s finger. He makes ready to slice the finger off and glances meaningfully at the dying man.

  The man almost seems to deflate as he cries something out. Stig moves the knife away from the man’s finger as he looks to Roland.

  “I think he’ll talk now,” he says, relief obvious in his voice.

  James says, “Ask him what they were doing here.”

  Roland exchanges words with him and then says, “They were looking for a group of assassins who tried to kill Lord Cytok.”

  “Assassins?” Scar exclaims. “That’s not the way I remember it.”

  “What were their orders?” asks James.

  “They were to patrol several miles into the desert and along the road for any sign of us,” he says after speaking again with the man. “Apparently, no one really thought that we would be in this area, the main search is farther to the north.”

  “Good,” James replies.

  “How do we know we can trust this guy?” Shorty asks. “He may just be telling us this so we won’t hurt him.”

  “I think he’s telling the truth,” Roland says, “at least as he knows it.”

  “I agree,” James says. “Whether he is or not, it’s not going to make any difference on what we’re going to do.”

  “What are we to do with him,” Tersa asks.

  “We can’t let him go or he’ll tell them where we are,” Stig insists.

  “If we leave him here, he’ll die,” says Delia.

  “Then there seems to be only one thing left to do,” Stig says as he grabs the man’s hair, lifts his head back and slits his throat. Letting go of the dying man’s hair, he wipes his knife on the man’s shirt as he gurgles and dies.

  “Stig!” Delia cries out.

  “What?” he asks back, staring her down and daring her to find fault.

  She just turns away and goes back over to her horse.

  “If he’s telling the truth,” James says as they all get back on their mounts, “then there may be a chance that we can find a port and get you all out of here.”

  Shorty comes over and gives James back the slugs he used to take down the riders.

  Taking the slugs, James notices that he also recovered his throwing knives as well. “Thanks,” he says to him.

  “No problem,” Shorty says as he goes over to his horse and mounts.

  “What happens when they fail to return?” Scar asks. “Isn’t someone going to come looking for them? I mean, as soon as they find them, they’ll know we’re not to the north.”

  “Then we better hurry and get to a port as fast as we can,” Jiron says. Kicking his horse into a fast trot, he once more begins to lead them northwest.

  Another hour of riding and they begin to see the road coming up ahead. The only traffic upon it is a caravan half a mile away moving east to west. Not observing any soldiers, they make for the road, coming onto it far ahead of the approaching caravan, not wanting to be close enough to be identified. They follow the road west as it meanders its way along the seashore which lies several hundred feet off to their right.

  “If we continue west, we’re bound to find a port of some kind,” James says to Jiron as they ride along.

  “We don’t know that for sure, or even how far it’s going to be,” he replies.

  “True, but our only alternative is to go east, back toward the capitol,” he says. “And I don’t think we’ll be doing that.”

  “You got that right,” agrees Jiron.

  Up ahead of them, they begin to see a small fishing village appearing along the coast. Several small boats are out upon the water where men are casting out nets and pulling them back with fish ensnared within.

  The village is just a small collection of huts so they continue on, hoping for a larger city. A small boy comes running out from between two of the huts as they pass and Roland hails him. When the boy comes over, he asks him something. After giving him an answer, the boy runs back into the village as he continues playing with his friends.

  “What did you ask him?” inquires James.

  “I asked him how far it was to the next large town,” he replies. “He said a day away is the trading port of Al-Kur.”

  “Good,” James says. “If we hurry, maybe we can reach it by nightfall.”

  “Hopefully not running into any more patrols along the way,” Scar adds. He looks to his friend Potbelly, he seems to be doing okay even though a red stain has begun to appear on his shirt from where blood is continuing to seep through the stitches. All this riding is not allowing him to heal properly.

  A couple of miles past the fishing village, they come to another town, this one is larger than the one they just passed through. They send Roland, Ezra and Arkie in to see about buying them all clothes so they can blend in with the natives. The rest continue around the town and await their return a mile or so further down the road. Once the town is no longer in sight behind them, they pull off the road and rest while they have a bite to eat.

  Jam
es paces around nervously, worried about Roland and his family, until Jiron comes over and says, “Relax, they’ll be fine. A man with his wife and kid will be the last one the Empire’s men would be looking for.”

  “I know,” he replies. “I just can’t help but worry.”

  From where Scar sits with Potbelly, he can hear Scar say, “See! You done tore out a couple of the stitches.” He looks over and sees Delia getting her needle ready to redo the stitches. “I hope this hurts,” he tells his friend.

  Potbelly just gives him an ugly look as he braces himself for the needle. James sees him flinch when she begins and turns his attention back to the east as he continues searching for the return of Roland and his family.

  Shortly after Delia is finished with Potbelly, James begins to see two horses coming down the road. With relief, he sees that it’s Roland and family burdened with several bundles of clothes. Roland waves and smiles when he sees James standing there.

  He distributes the clothes to everyone once they’ve reached the others, saying, “There wasn’t much selection, I hope they fit well enough.”

  Actually, the clothes do fit well enough, Shorty’s is a bit long, but serviceable.

  James looks around at everyone in their new clothes. Not bad, he thinks. Now if they could just do something about their weapons and shields, but all they can do is pack them away as unobtrusively as possible in with their other gear. Their disguise will uphold under a brief scrutiny, but anything more direct would easily expose them.

  “I guess it’s the best we can do,” Jiron says to James.

  “At least we don’t stick out nearly as bad anymore,” he adds.

  “To Al-Kur, then,” Jiron says as everyone mounts up and gets underway. Potbelly allows Scar to help him into the saddle this time, due primarily to the scolding he received from Delia when she had to redo his stitches. Possibly from the pain of the restitching as well, but he isn’t likely to admit that to anyone.

  Setting a quick pace, they make all speed for Al-Kur. They pass many travelers throughout the day, but none give them more than a quick glance or a brief ‘Hello’. Roland rides in the lead with James and Jiron so he can field any and all greetings that they receive.

  The sun begins to set and still Al-Kur has not appeared upon the horizon. “Maybe the boy was wrong?” suggests Jiron.

  “Perhaps,” agrees James. “We did have that stopover to get the clothes, let’s travel a few more hours and see if it appears. If not, we can camp off the road till morning.”

  Nodding his head in agreement, he says, “Very well.”

  When night has fallen completely and the stars are out in all their glory, the lights of Al-Kur appear on the horizon.

  Unable to see much of it in the dark, they discover that this town has no defending wall surrounding it. As they get closer, they run across guards and soldiers, but other than a brief glance, they pay them no attention.

  Entering the city they find an inn, Roland and James go inside to inquire about rooms for them all.

  With Roland doing all the talking, they get four rooms and enough stall space for all their horses. James hands over the money as the innkeeper tells Roland which rooms are theirs.

  Going back outside, they get their horses settled in the stable before returning to the inn. Once inside, they divvy up the rooms; Tersa and Delia get one, Roland and family another, James, Jiron and Shorty take the third, with Yorn, Scar, Stig and Potbelly in the last one.

  After taking their saddle bags up to their rooms, they meet down in the common area for dinner. They find a large table that will accommodate them all and by the time they’re all seated, a serving girl comes over.

  Roland orders for them all and pays her before she returns to the kitchen.

  “So, what are we getting?” Shorty asks him once she’s left.

  “Just the house special, it’s a slightly spicy stew with meat and vegetables,” he tells everyone. “Comes with bread and I ordered us all ale.”

  Satisfied, they relax and Jiron says in hushed tones, “Tomorrow, we’ll start looking for a ship to take us to Cardri.”

  “Why not tonight?” asks Stig.

  “We’re all tired,” he replies. “Also, most captains have returned to their ships and none like unexpected visitors coming aboard at night.”

  “Makes sense,” he says.

  The rest of the evening they spend enjoying themselves as they eat their dinner. Although there’s no entertainment provided here, they still have a good time just talking amongst themselves. James tells them of Trendle and what they can expect when they get there.

  Roland and family are the first ones to head up to their rooms, Arkie being quite tired from all the riding and Ezra wants to go to sleep as well. The rest stay down there for a couple more hours until they begin to grow tired and eventually drift on up to their rooms.

  The next morning when they all gather downstairs for breakfast, they decide James and Jiron, along with Roland, would go to the docks and try to find a ship to take them to Cardri. The rest would remain in their rooms, being as inconspicuous as possible.

  They leave the inn and follow the main street as it makes its way down to the dock area. Before they get close to the docks, they observe several soldiers going through the crowd and asking questions. Turning around, Jiron leads them back down the street for half a block where they duck into a side alley.

  “Think they’re looking for us?” Roland asks, keeping an eye on the soldiers.

  Nodding, James replies, “I think we have to assume so. They seem a little bit more curious than would seem normal.”

  “I agree,” adds Jiron. Turning to James, he says, “What should we do?”

  “We could go ahead and take our chances by going to the docks,” he says. “Or we could remain here, keeping our eyes open and hope a captain just happens to walk by.”

  “One just walking by doesn’t seem very likely,” asserts Jiron. “Maybe we could hunt through the taverns in the area?”

  “This time of morning?” asks James. “I doubt if anyone would still be there, they would all be back at their ships.”

  Suddenly, a group of sailors comes walking up the street from the docks, one of them is dressed finer than the others. From the looks of them, they are not from the Empire, but from the north.

  Looking at the others, James says, “Fortune may be smiling upon us.”

  “I’d say,” Jiron replies with a smile.

  As the sailors pass by, they can hear the one dressed well say, “Damn customs officer, holding my cargo like that.”

  “He released it didn’t he?” one of the sailors replies.

  “Yeah,” the well dressed man replies, “after holding it for two days. Two days!” He storms down the street with his men following behind.

  Exiting the alley, they follow the sailors as they continue further into town before turning down a side street. They continue past several buildings until finally entering a large warehouse. Jiron and the others peer in through a window by the door where they see the sailors talking with a man inside.

  “Let’s wait until they come back out and see if we can book passage,” suggests James to the agreement of the others.

  They watch through the window until they see the man shake hands with the well dressed sailor who then turns back toward the door they entered through.

  Seeing that they’re coming back out, James has them move away from the building for a ways and wait until they leave.

  Once all the sailors are completely out of the warehouse, James steps up to the well dressed one and says, “Excuse me.”

  Stopping, the sailors turn to see them standing there. A couple of them put their hands on the swords hanging at their waists.

  “Yes?” the well dressed man asks, looking at James and the others.

  “Are you a captain of a vessel?” James asks.

  “Yes, I am,” the captain replies.

  “My friends and I were wondering if you might be hea
ding to Cardri soon?” inquires James.

  “Why?” the captain asks him back, suspicious.

  “We were interested in booking passage if you were,” he explains.

  “Hmmm,” the captain says and then one of his men whispers into his ear. His eyes widen slightly and then he says to James, “There were some soldiers asking about a group of people, not of the Empire, who might be looking for passage. They requested that we inform them of any that do.”

  “I’m sure that wouldn’t be us,” responds James, innocently.

  “Don’t lie to me boy,” orders the captain, “I’m not stupid. I can tell from the way your friend over there got a panic look, that you’re the ones they’re looking for.” He points over to where Roland is standing, beginning to blush.

  “What do you plan to do?” Jiron asks, as he unobtrusively takes hold of a knife.

  “Do? Nothing,” the captain replies. “I hate the Empire and everything it stands for. I’m only here because I was offered enough gold for me to put aside my dislike for this place and come. Plus, some idiot of a customs official decides to hold my cargo for two days because he thought I had slighted him in some way. If you are causing them problems, so much the better.”

  “Then, will you allow us to sail with you?” Jiron asks. “We can pay you for your troubles.”

  The captain thinks for a moment and then says, “How many are there?”

  “Two women, an infant and six men,” James tells him.

  “What could you have done with that to warrant such an extensive search?” he wonders.

  “We’d rather not say,” James tells him.

  The captain considers it for a moment and says, “Fifty golds and that’s not open to negotiation.”

  “Very well,” agrees James holding out his hand.

  The captain takes it, sealing the bargain. “Our ship is the Crashing Wave, it’s the second from the end. We sail at first light, if you’re late or don’t have the money, we sail without you. Understand?”