Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two (15 page)

“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.

When he reaches the top, he tries to pull
the ladder up but one of the soldiers has already gotten a hold of
it, preventing him from retracting it.

Next to the trapdoor he sees a chest. Taking
hold of it, he pulls it over to the trapdoor and drops it on the
soldiers below. He hears it crash down the stairs and into the
soldiers, followed shortly by curses and one cry of pain.

Having only seconds, Jiron quickly glances
around and the only exit visible is a small window on the far side
of the attic. He quickly picks up several other things of moderate
weight and throws them down in quick succession at the soldiers
below before running over to the window.

The window is hinged and he’s able to swing
it open. Sticking his head out the window, he looks down and sees a
straight drop to the street below. Looking up, he sees the edge of
the roof a mere two feet above the window. Pulling himself to a
sitting position on the sill, he reaches up and grabs the edge of
the roof, quickly pulling himself up. A crossbow bolt hits the eave
next to where he’s climbing up onto the roof. Glancing down, he
sees a dozen soldiers there watching him, two armed with crossbows.
Another thud, and he feels a crossbow bolt embed itself in the
backpack.

Finally gaining the roof, he rolls away from
the edge and the deadly barrage coming from the streets below. The
roof is shrouded by thick smoke coming from the fire not to far
away. He pulls out the cloth again and wraps it once more around
his face, trying to keep the smoke out of his lungs. In a low
crouch, he gains the center of the roof and quickly surveys his
options.

A narrow alleyway separates this building
from the one behind it, the buildings on the other sides are too
far away to attempt to jump across. Keeping low, he runs and leaps
across the gap to the other building, landing easily. Looking back,
he sees a soldier gaining the roof by way of the window in the
attic. He sees Jiron and pauses as he points to him, shouting to
the soldiers in the streets below. Then he starts running toward
him as another begins to climb up from the attic.

Glancing across the roof to the other side,
he sees that the buildings continue along close together for a
while. Having no other choice, he runs and begins jumping from
rooftop to rooftop as he tries to find a way out of this situation.
After jumping to the third building, he begins to feel the heat of
the fire and realizes that it has reached the edge of town and is
consuming the building at the end of the row he’s been jumping
across.

Looking behind him, he sees several soldiers
running and jumping from building to building behind him. With no
other choice, he races toward the end of the line of buildings and
the fire until he reaches the last building that’s yet to catch
fire. He slings the backpack over his shoulder and turns to face
the oncoming soldiers. The heat from the fire consuming the
building behind him is almost intolerable as he awaits their
arrival.

When the soldiers get to the building before
his, they stop and begin shouting to him. Unable to understand what
is being said, he just stands there with his knives ready, planning
to sell his life dearly.

A popping noise behind him causes him to
turn his head and look. The building he’s standing on has now
caught fire and the fire is creeping closer to where he is
standing. He tries to take a step away from the flames, but the
roof under his foot cracks and then caves in.

He falls through the roof to the floor
below, smoke and fire are everywhere. He hits the floor hard and
then comes up quickly as he looks around for a way out, the thick
smoke stinging his eyes. Spying a doorway, he makes his way toward
it through the smoke. He begins coughing, the smoke is so thick
here, it’s even getting through the cloth tied to his face.

Passing through the doorway, he finds the
hallway to his left is aflame, the heat from the flames searing his
skin. A sudden thought crosses his mind, something James had said
before he left,
‘Someone needs to go and retrieve it. Or at
least destroy it and the papers it carries.’
The
backpack!
He takes it, throws it into the flames and watches
for a brief moment as they begin to consume it and the letters
inside.

Turning, he runs down the hallway away from
the flames to the stairs, where the smoke is billowing up them like
a chimney. With no other choice, he races down through the dense,
hot smoke, barely able to see and coughing as his lungs try to
expel the smoke.

At the bottom of the stairs, the flames
wreathe one end of the hallway, the heat causing his hair to begin
to curl and smoke. Unable to even see any longer through the smoke,
he turns and moves in the opposite direction, away from the flames.
Putting the heat behind him, he keeps one hand in contact with a
wall as he moves blindly down the smoke filled hall. Suddenly, he
feels cool air hit his face and is able to breathe a little better.
Running, he makes it through the front door where he collapses on
the ground, coughing and gasping, trying to get the relatively
clean air into his lungs.

He hears a footstep beside him and looks up
to see the officer standing there with two men holding crossbows
aimed at him. The officer says something in their language and two
of his men grab him and bring him to his feet as they carry him
toward the jail.