Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two (31 page)

“Done this before?” he asks.

“Couple of times,” she admits, ashamed. “You
don’t know what it’s like to be a woman alone here, without a man,”
she cries. “If we didn’t, my mother and I would lose everything and
have to live on the streets.”

“No excuse,” he says to her. He turns as he
hears footsteps coming up from the basement. Still inebriated, the
guys are quite a sight as they stagger along. He smiles and shakes
his head.

“What to do with you two,” he muses as he
turns back to the women.

“Are you going to kill us?” the younger
woman asks, fear in her voice.

“Should I?” he asks. “Or can we leave
without anyone but us knowing what transpired here?”

“We won’t tell anyone!” she cries out. “We
swear!” Her mother nods her head in agreement.

“Alright,” he tells her. “But if we hear
about this from anyone else, I’ll be back. Understood?”

“Yes!” she cries, relief evident upon her
face.

Turning to Roland, he says, “Let’s go.” He
unties the younger woman and then helps the stumbling drunks out of
the house. Being the last to leave, he gives the daughter one
final, meaningful look and then closes the door.

With Roland’s help, he gets them moving in
the right direction as they work their way through town. They
finally meander their way back to camp where the drunks collapse
and pass out.

“Everything go okay?” Delia asks when they
arrive.

“We’re here aren’t we?” he asks her.

“What happened?” she asks.

Too tired to want to talk, he just says,
“Tell you in the morning.” Lying down, he’s soon fast asleep.

The boozehounds all have incredible
hangovers from the night before and not too surprisingly, most
don’t remember being tied up in the basement. Jiron and Scar
remember it somewhat, but mainly it’s all just a blur.

Smelling far worse than normal, James has
them all go to the river, clothes and all and at least make an
attempt to get the stink out.

While they’re gone to the river, he and the
others work to get the caravan ready for travel before they
return.

“You going to tell them what happened last
night?” Roland asks James as they secure a team of horses in their
traces.

Grinning, he says, “If I do, I’ll probably
make up a bunch of stuff.”

Roland breaks out laughing and then they
finish securing the horses to the wagon. Everything is set to go by
the time they see them coming back toward the wagons, drenched and
cold. With the heat of the day already beginning to rise, it won’t
take long before it dries them out.

Sitting atop his horse, James watches and
waits while they return and mount their horses. This day, Jiron is
to drive the wagon while James gets to ride point. James is wearing
his floppy hat that he bought back at Korazan to keep the sun
off.

When everyone is ready, he takes the lead
and soon they’re back on the road following the river south. After
riding for several hours, an odd fog bank appears off to the east,
several miles away. “Do you see that?” he asks Jiron when he pauses
to allow the wagon to catch up with him.

Shielding his eyes against the glare, he
replies, “Yeah, so?”

“I’ve never heard of there being fog in the
middle of the desert, in the middle of the day,” he says.
“Certainly not during summer, the heat should’ve burnt it off long
ago.”

When Roland catches up to them, James asks
him about it.

“I think it’s called the ‘Mists of Sorrow’,”
he explains.

“Why do they call it that?” Jiron asks.

“Don’t know,” he replies. “I just heard
someone passing through mention it once.”

By this time the whole caravan has stopped
to see what’s going on. They all stare at the fog in the
distance.

“What is it?” asks Shorty.

“We’re not sure,” Roland explains. “It might
be the ‘Mists of Sorrow’.”

“Oh,” he says.

“We’re not getting anywhere by standing here
gawking,” James says to everyone who’s gathered around him. They
get back on their horses and wagons as he resumes riding to the
south.

Throughout the rest of the day, the fog bank
remains a permanent fixture on the horizon, they all can’t help but
keep glancing at it from time to time. James notices how the
traffic is all but nonexistent on this road. The few travelers they
do encounter tend to be nonsocial, giving only short responses to
greetings if they give any at all.

When the sun rides low in the sky, they stop
for the night next to the river. Before the sun goes down, James
looks to the east and can still see the fog bank sitting there,
miles away.

The next morning, he’s shocked to discover
the wall of fog had moved during the night. Now it’s no more than a
half mile from the road. It easily extends fifty feet high and is
so dense, you can’t see anything within it.

“Wow,” says Delia when she wakes up and
joins him where he’s gazing at it. “Creepy.”

“You said it,” he agrees.

“Should we go check it out?” she asks.

Shaking his head, he says, “No, it makes me
feel uneasy. Might be a good idea if we stayed away from it.”

Then suddenly, they see a shadow pass
through it along the fringe, the density of the fog keeping them
from getting a clear view of it. It was half the size of a horse
and was running like a dog.

They look at each other and she asks, “What
was that?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, “but I think we
need to be moving.”

Waking everyone quickly, they set a new
record in getting the caravan ready and moving down the road. With
uneasy eyes on the fogbank, they make haste down the road. For the
first couple miles the fog stays fairly close but then begins to
recede again until it is once again several miles off in the
distance. By the end of the day, they’re unable to see it any more,
much to the relief of everyone.

Next morning, James looks to the east and is
happy to still see no trace of the fog at all. After rolling down
the road for two hours, they come to another town. A large
congregation of people can be seen out in front of a two story
building set a little ways into town.

As they come closer, they notice that the
people are upset about something and are talking agitatedly among
themselves. “Go see what’s going on,” James says to Roland.

Roland gives him a nod, climbs down off the
wagon, and then walks over to the crowd of people. The others wait
for him on the road.

James sees him moving through the crowd,
talking to several different people until he finally begins to make
his way back. “Well?” he asks as Roland returns.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he says.
“Last night the garrison Sub-Commander was murdered.”

“So?” Jiron asks.

“He was murdered by a northerner,” he says,
“and there were witnesses. Also, drawn in blood on his forehead,
was a heart with two dots.” He turns to Jiron and says, “Sound
familiar?”

“Cassie’s necklace?” Jiron replies. “It was
a heart with two stones.”

“You mean Tinok did this?” Delia asks, not
really believing it.

He turns to her, “It would appear so, but we
have no real evidence, though the description of the murderer
matches him fairly good.”

“What is he doing?” Jiron wonders, angry.
“That fool’s going to get himself killed.” He turns to James, “He’s
close, maybe we could find him and help him?”

“Let’s get a ways out of town and then I’ll
look and see what I can discover,” he tells him.

Jiron nods his head and they follow the road
as it passes through town. Once the town has disappeared behind
them, they pull off the road and James takes out his mirror to
attempt to locate him.

Settling down on the ground, he gazes into
the mirror, concentrating on Tinok and then lets the magic flow.
Tinok begins to appear in the mirror, he’s riding his horse fast
across the desert.

“Where is he?” Jiron asks.

“I don’t know,” James says, “somewhere to
the east, I think. The sun is too high for me to be able to tell
for sure by the shadows.”

“How far away is he?” demands Jiron.

“I can’t tell that,” explains James.

“Damn him!” Jiron curses in frustration. He
turns and stares out into the desert to the east, hoping beyond
hope to be able to see him. “So close!”

Delia comes to him and says, “But he doesn’t
want us to find him.”

“Why do you say that?” he shouts at her in
anger. “Why wouldn’t he want to be with his friends?”

“I don’t know,” she replies, gently. “But if
he did, he would be here.”

“He knows where we’re going,” Yorn tells
him. “He can find us if he wants to.”

Potbelly comes over and says, “Sometimes, a
man’s just got to work things out on his own. And a hurt like he’s
had could take a long time, if ever.”

Jiron continues gazing out to the desert and
then his head droops as he turns to walk back to his horse. “Let’s
go,” he says to them despondently.

_________________________

That evening when they stop for the night,
James takes the watch in the middle of the night. He likes that one
cause it’s quiet and peaceful, giving him time to think about
things. When he’s on watch, he usually goes over the magic he’s
done and tries to figure out how to make it better, such as the
bubble seeker spell he used in locating Jiron the other night.

This evening, he’s trying to come up with
spells that will be effective against another mage. His last two
trials hadn’t gone all that well, the first one at the City of
Light almost killed him and ended up devastating a wide area. He
needs to devise spells that will be effective against a mage, yet
not destroy everything in the surrounding area. He might be in a
town with innocent people the next time.

Maybe a series of spells, small spells that
build on each other to breach the mage’s defenses. Two things that
all mages need to do magic are concentration and power. You disturb
either one of those and his ability to do magic disappears.

A good mage’s concentration will not be
disrupted easily, something profound or totally unexpected would be
needed. James considers different methods that might work as he
walks around the campsite, trying to stay awake until Stig’s turn
at watch.

On his fourth trip around the camp, from off
in the distance he begins to see two white lights coming toward
him. As they get closer, a roar begins to be heard as well. He’s
about to wake everyone when he comes to the shocked realization of
just what is approaching him.

He stands there with mouth slightly ajar in
shock, as a beat up Ford pickup comes rolling into camp and pulls
up with the passenger side next to him. James stands there
expectantly, but at first nothing happens. Then he sees the driver
lean over to his side and opens the door. Looking in, he sees the
little creature with the felt hat sitting behind the steering
wheel.

“Get in,” he says, motioning for James to
enter the cab.

He looks around at his sleeping friends and
says, “I can’t just leave them, I’m on watch.”

“They’ll be fine,” he tells James.

“Are you sure?”

Giving James a look of annoyance, he says
again, “Get in.”

James climbs into the cab and shuts the
door. With a roar, the little creature hits the gas and they drive
away into the dark. He sits there as the truck rolls on, the
creature turns the radio on and a George Strait song comes on.
“Where are we going?” he asks.

“Going for pizza,” the creature tells
him.

“Pizza?” he asks. “There’s pizza here?”

“Just have to know where to look,” the
creature smiles as he continues down the road.

Road?
James looks and suddenly
realizes that they’re on a blacktop highway. Up ahead he sees the
lights of civilization approaching. There’re not many buildings,
the one closest to them has a sign out front that says ‘Mama’s
Pizza.’

The creature pulls the truck into a parking
spot outside Mama’s Pizza and parks it. Shutting the engine off, he
gets out. Before he closes the door, he looks back at James who’s
remained in the cab and asks, “Coming?”

“Yeah,” James says, as he gets out of the
truck. Theirs is the only vehicle in the parking lot out front of
Mama’s. The place looks a little rundown, similar to what his
grandfather would’ve called a greasy spoon. He joins the little
creature where he’s waiting at the door and they enter
together.

The little creature opens the door and
allows James to enter first. Once inside, he points over to a fat,
dark haired woman behind the counter and says, “That’s Mama.”

She looks over to them as they enter and
gives them a big smile, “It’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she
says. He gives her a nod and then leads James over to a table where
they sit down.

An old tv is mounted to the wall over by
mama who’s watching it with rapt attention. James is surprised to
see she’s watching an old episode of Star Trek.

“She’s a Trekkie,” he tells him. “You should
see her collection in the back room.”

James turns back to him and asks, “So why
are we here?”

“For pizza, like I said,” the little guy
replies. “I wanted some and I hate eating alone. It’s better with
someone who is able to enjoy it with you, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose,” he says.

James watches as the little creature takes
the salt shaker and pours a little salt on the table. Using great
care he positions the salt shaker on its edge within the salt pile
and then slowly removes his hands, leaving the salt shaker cocked
to one side. He looks across the table to James with a satisfied
smile on his face and asks, “Not bad, eh?”

“You sure don’t act like a god,” James tells
him.