The Star of Morcyth: The Morcyth Saga Book Five

by Brian S. Pratt

  “Okay,” he says.

  Escorted out of the room, the guards fall in place around him as they lead him down the hallway. As he leaves the room, he sees a worried and anxious Miko standing in the hall not more than a few feet away.

  “James?” he asks, fearfully.

  “Don’t worry,” he assures his friend. “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”

  “I hope so,” he says as Illan comes out of the room and they watch him being led away. Just as he begins descending the stairs, he hears Miko holler, “Don’t eat anything!”

  Don’t eat anything. That’s good advice. On a previous occasion back in Lythylla, he had eaten food laced with a narcotic which rendered his magical abilities useless. He may get hungry, but he really doesn’t plan on eating or drinking anything while he’s incarcerated. He just may need his magic working.

  Outside the inn, their party turns down the street toward the gate leading into the castle area. The streets are filled with soldiers and guards. “What’s going on?” James asks his guards.

  Unresponsive, they ignore his question as they continue marching on toward the gates. Once past, he’s led across the courtyard and through the gates of the castle itself.

  The flurry of activity within the castle is even more harried than that which was witnessed outside. Pages are racing through the halls and men-at-arms are stationed everywhere.

  Instead of taking him to the Royal Court as he at first expected, they take him through a different set of hallways and finally down a flight of steps into what has to be the castle’s dungeon.

  At the bottom of the stairs lies a room with several holding cells for prisoners. Currently they’re all empty though they look as if they could hold several hundred in a pinch. They move to the first pen and one of the guards opens the cell door. The guard behind James pushes him on the back, indicating for him to enter.

  Seeing no benefit to resisting at this time, he acquiesces and walks forward. Turning around to face his guards as they close and lock the door, he sees them about to leave and asks, “Can you at least leave me a torch for light?”

  One of the guards gives him a look of contempt and says, “You’re supposed to be some fancy mage, why don’t you make your own light?” His fellows all begin chuckling and laughing at that.

  Shrugging, James says, “Very well.” Suddenly, the entire area is filled with a blinding white light as dozens of extremely bright orbs blossom into life throughout the room.

  The reaction from the guards is all he could hope for when they turn tale and run out of the room. Chuckling to himself as the last man runs up the stairs leaving him alone, he cancels the spell. The darkness of the holding area lasts but briefly before his normal glowing orb springs to life next to him on the bench. He leans back and tries to get comfortable.

  Smiling to himself, he feels under his shirt and rubs the slug belt he had put on when he got dressed to come here. The guards hadn’t even realized what it was. Alone in the dark, he ponders why he’s here and waits.

  After James and his escort of guards goes down the stairs, Illan gestures Miko to follow him into James’ room and close the door.

  To Dave he asks, “Just what happened?”

  Shrugging, he looks up from where he’s sitting on the bed and replies, “I don’t know. They just came and took him.” Dave’s command of the language has greatly improved over the last week or so. Being completely immersed in it has helped. Though still not understanding every word and nuance, he’s a quick learner.

  “What are we to do?” Miko asks.

  “You two stay here and I’ll try to find out what’s going on,” he says.

  “Okay,” replies Miko. Dave just nods his head.

  Leaving the room, he heads downstairs and finds Miss Gilena in the common room wearing her night dress and a robe. She’s standing near one of the windows looking out upon the street and turns when she hears him coming.

  “They took James,” he tells her.

  “I know, poor boy,” she replies sadly.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” he asks.

  Shaking her head, she says, “No. One of my servants woke me up when the guards appeared. They didn’t say much other than they were here to take him to the castle for questioning.”

  Illan looks out the window and sees guards and soldiers moving up and down the street. “I’m going to find out what’s going on,” he says as he moves for the front door.”

  “Be careful,” she says.

  “Not to worry,” he says, pausing at the door. Pulling it open, he steps out into the street and begins moving toward the gates to the castle area. If there’s any place he’ll be able to find out what happened, it would be there.

  He doesn’t get more than half a block away from the inn before a man wearing the uniform of the city guard sees him and moves to intercept. “There’s a curfew in effect,” the guard says as he comes close. “You’ll have to return to your home.”

  “But why?” Illan asks. “What happened?”

  “Someone’s assassinated the adjutant to the Empire’s Ambassador,” he explains. “His body was found outside the walls of the city in the poor section. The adjutant had been decapitated.”

  Gasping, Illan’s mind begins to whir and things are beginning to click into place. “Do they know who did it?” he asks the guard.

  Shaking his head, he replies, “If they do they haven’t told us about it yet.” Motioning back the way Illan had come, he says, “Curfews in effect until morning, so get off the street.”

  “Very well,” he says as he turns around and heads back to the Silver Bells.

  As he comes through the front door, Miss Gilena gives him a worried expression and he says, “There’s a curfew and they won’t let anyone on the street until morning.”

  “Did you find out what this is all about?” she asks, coming over to him.

  “They said someone from the Empire’s Ambassador’s party has been killed,” he tells her.

  “Surely they don’t suspect poor James do they?” she asks, concern etching the features of her face.

  “I don’t know,” he tells her. “I’m sure we’ll know more in the morning.”

  “I hope so,” she says as she goes back to her place near the window.

  Illan turns and heads for the stairs. Returning to the room where the other two wait, he enters and closes the door behind him. “We’ve got problems,” he tells them.

  “Like what?” Miko asks.

  He briefly explains to them what he learned and his suspicion that the powers that be will think James is the one who killed the adjutant.

  “Why would they think that?” Dave asks.

  Looking at him like he’s an idiot, Illan explains. “Just hours after James finds out the Empire wants him extradited from Cardri for crimes he’s allegedly committed in their land, one of the prominent members of their delegation is killed. Think about it.”

  Nodding, Dave says, “I think I understand.”

  “What can we do?” Miko asks him.

  Sitting on one of the beds, Illan says, “Nothing we can do until morning and the curfew is lifted. After that, we’ll see what we can do.”

  Miko moves to the window of the room and looks out over the city to the silhouette of the castle in the distance. Hang in there James!

  Holding still and quiet against the alley wall, Jiron, Fifer and the Parvati wait while four members of the city guard march past. Once they’ve moved further down the street away from the opening of the alley, Fifer whispers to Jiron, “We’ve got to get off the streets!”

  “I know that,” he replies with impatience.

  Still on the outside of the outer wall, they’ve been unable to get back into the city. The whole area is swarming with guards and soldiers. It’s only been by a miracle that they haven’t been discovered yet.

  Staying just one step ahead of the patrols, they slowly made their way further from the courtyard where the dead body lies. The P
arvati is wearing the hooded cloak that Jiron had grabbed from the pavilion to better hide his features. A tall, extensively tattooed man is hard to miss or forget.

  Jiron pokes his head out into the street and finds it devoid of guards at the moment. “Come on,” he whispers as they follow him into the street and quickly move to the other side. Staying against the buildings, they hurry down to where he sees another alley entrance, past several more buildings.

  Before they have a chance to reach it, light from one of the searching patrols is seen approaching from a side street. Realizing they are not going to have time to make it, he moves to the door of the building next to them and tries to open it.

  Finding it locked, he throws his shoulder into it and smashes the door open. The sound of it seems to reverberate through the streets as they rush inside. Closing the door rapidly, Fifer moves to a window and looks out to see if anyone is coming to investigate.

  “Anyone?” Jiron asks after a moment.

  Shaking his head, Fifer says, “Doesn’t look like it. The patrol which was coming into the street went down the other way.”

  “Good,” says Jiron.

  The building they find themselves in looks to be some kind of rug maker. Several looms are placed throughout the room with partially completed rugs still attached to them. Massive rolls of string and twine are lying upon shelves along most of the walls.

  From above them, they hear a floorboard creak as if someone’s walking around. They freeze and listen carefully as another creak sounds a few feet away from the first one. Someone’s up there moving around.

  Jiron motions for the other two to remain still as he moves to the doorway leading further into the building. The sound of the steps becomes more pronounced as whoever it is begins descending a stairway on the other side of the door.

  The Parvati and Fifer move to the side of the room so as not to be readily noticed should the individual come into the room. Jiron positions himself near the door.

  The footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs and they hear them coming toward the door to the room in which they’re hiding. As the door begins opening, Jiron makes ready and then as the person begins walking into the room, he grabs them from behind.

  A knife wielded by the man in Jiron’s clutches strikes out at him and he’s forced to let go. Fifer and the Parvati move away from the walls, their swords in hand. “We don’t want to hurt you,” Jiron says to the man.

  “What are you doing in my shop?” he asks with fear in his voice as he comes to understand there are three of them.

  “We’re not thieves or murderers,” Jiron tells him. “Drop the knife and I promise we won’t hurt you.”

  After only a moment’s hesitation, his knife falls to the floor. Just then, light from a passing search party begins playing upon the window overlooking the street. Jiron nods to Fifer who moves to the window and looks out.

  The light gradually increases as the patrol moves toward them along the street. Jiron has his knife against the man’s throat to keep him from raising the alarm. When the patrol at last moves past and the light begins to diminish, Fifer glances back to Jiron and nods.

  Removing his knife, he says, “My pardon good sir.”

  “You are the ones they’re after!” he says in amazement.

  “We don’t have time to talk, I’m afraid,” Jiron says to him. Motioning him over to one of the looms, he says, “Move over there please.”

  “What are you going to do to me?” he asks, as he does as Jiron commanded.

  “Tie you up, nothing more,” he explains. Fifer comes over to supply the gag to keep him quiet and they proceed to tie him with the thread and twine from his own looms. Once the man is secured and not likely to escape, Jiron leads them through the house and to the rear door leading into the alley behind.

  A quick glance to make sure the alley is empty and they’re through the door, slowly making their way to the end of the alley. “Do you know where you’re going?” asks Fifer.

  “Not really,” he says. “I just want to find some place where we can hole up until James finds us.”

  “How is he going to find us?” Fifer asks.

  Jiron just stares at him a moment before Fifer says, “Oh yeah, right.”

  The end of the alley opens upon a small area enclosed by the backs of several buildings built against each other. Several sleeping forms are huddled in and around the refuse lying on the ground. Each wall has a doorway, all closed but one.

  Jiron steps carefully over a sleeping body as he moves toward the open door. The opening is dark and nothing can be seen on the other side, not even shadows. Moving carefully, he enters through the door with the others following. A knife held in one hand for comfort, he moves deeper into the building.

  His right shoulder bumps a wall and when he reaches out with his other hand, encounters another wall on the left. It’s not a room but a corridor extending further into the building.

  Moving deeper into the building, the sound of the searchers roaming the streets outside begins to diminish. Jiron keeps his right hand against the wall as they walk to hunt for doors. After passing ten feet or so into the building, his hand encounters one.

  “Just a second,” he whispers to the others behind him as he moves his hand along the door in search of the handle. “I think there’s a door here.” Upon finding the handle, he turns it and pushes the door open slowly.

  The door’s hinges protest loudly as he swings it open enough to allow them to enter. Darkness greets him on the other side as he tries to see beyond the door. “Might be a room where we can hole up for awhile,” he tells them.

  “Doubt if they’ll find us here,” Fifer says as he follows him through the doorway. Once the Parvati is in, he closes the door to the protestations of the hinges. “Anybody have a light?” Fifer asks.

  Nearby in the dark, sparks begin to be seen from where flint is striking and soon, the soft light of a candle blossoms to light. The Parvati stands there, the candle in hand as he looks to his new found companions.

  “Good,” Jiron says approvingly. The room they find themselves in is dirty and looks as if beggars or other street people have at one time or another called it home. Dirty blankets are strewn around and one corner of the room reeks from where it has been used as a latrine. Rats scurry away from the light.

  “What a disgusting room,” says Fifer in dismay.

  “Disgusting it may be, but at least we’re not out there,” he says, indicating the streets where the patrols are still searching for them. “Now,” he says as he turns his attention back to the Parvati, “just what’s your name and why did you have to go and kill that man?”

  Setting the candle down on a broken crate that looks to be currently used as a table, he says, “I am Qyrll. I am truly sorry for having brought trouble upon you, but I could not bear the insult which he ascribed to me. Far too long have I endured such by him, honor bound to take the abuse without reprisals. I thank you for my freedom.”

  “You’re welcome,” replies Jiron. “I just wish we could have done it without raising the whole city against us.”

  “I can see why you are called Shynti,” Qyrll says. “You are truly a great warrior.”

  “Thanks,” he replies.

  “Could you tell me of my homeland?” he says. “It’s been many years since I left.”

  “Seems we have the time,” Jiron says as he makes himself comfortable amidst the refuse. “It was your brother whom we first encountered after we…” For several hours Jiron relates his experiences in the Parvati homeland to Qyrll and Fifer as well as learning about this new companion of theirs.

  “Hear that train a comin’, it’s rolling round the bend, I ain’t seen sunshine since I don’t know when,” James’s voice echoes in the room with the holding cells. For the past hour he’s entertained himself with various songs of his world, the last being an old Johnny Cash song which seemed appropriate for the occasion.

  The songs from home have given him comfort, thou
gh he’s not too concerned about his own safety. He’s grown in his ability as a mage and feels confident to take care of himself should that become necessary. As long as the powers that be don’t try to hurt or drug him, he’ll go along peacefully. The last thing he wants is to antagonize another kingdom against him.

  When he gets to the part about shooting a man in Reno, he hears the approach of footsteps coming down the stairs. Bringing the song to a close, he watches the stairwell as a man in the livery of Cardri comes in bearing half a dozen torches, one of which is lit.

  The man’s eyes widen as he takes in the glowing orb sitting next to James on the bench. He moves along the wall and starts placing the torches in the sconces spaced around the room. After placing a torch into a sconce, he lights it with the one he’s carrying before moving to the next.

  “What are you doing?” James asks.

  “Seems rather obvious,” the man retorts as he places his third torch into a sconce.

  “Have they finally decided that I deserve some light down here?” he asks.

  The man breaks out with a short snicker as he says, “Hardly. Word is that you’ll be having visitors shortly. So I’m placing several torches around the room to give them some light.”

  “Oh,” says James.

  The last torch the man is putting in a sconce happens to be near James’ cell. He approaches warily, eyeing him with trepidation.

  “Don’t worry,” James tells him, “I’ll not hurt you.”

  Not believing him, the man comes closer, all the while keeping an eye on James in case he tries something. When he gets close to the torch sconce, he rushes past the cell and places it in, lights it and then beats a hasty retreat.

  “There,” says James with an assuring smile, “I didn’t bite now did I?”

  His job finished, the man moves quickly to the stairs and James is soon alone again. Shaking his head, James gives out with a tired sigh. Is that the reaction I’m always going to receive? Maybe I will go live on an island or mountaintop somewhere.