Fires of Prophecy: The Morcyth Saga Book Two (48 page)

“You okay?” Jiron asks.

“Better,” he assures him, his speech only
slightly affected.

“What happened to you?” Jiron asks,
dismounting and coming over to him.

“Not really sure,” he replies. “I remember
you leaving and then things get kind of fuzzy after that. I
remember being carried over your shoulder through town, or at least
parts of it. But nothing really clear until a short time ago when I
came to on the horse.”

Jiron relates to James the events from when
he returned to the camp and found him being loaded onto the wagon
until now. “They must’ve done something to you,” he states.

“I agree,” he says. “Probably a drug of some
kind.”

“Think so?” Jiron asks.

“It would make sense,” he replies. “A mage
who’s drugged wouldn’t be able to focus clearly and do magic.
Actually, it was quite effective.” Holding his head, he looks to
Jiron.

“I would say so,” he agrees. “Can you do
magic now?”

James concentrates, or tries to anyway and
then shakes his head. “Not even if my life depended on it,” he
tells him. “Just have to wait until the effects wear off.”

“Think they will?” Jiron asks.

“Don’t know why they wouldn’t,” he says and
then suddenly begins to panic as he grabs his shirt. “The
medallion!” he cries out. “They took the medallion!”

Jiron reaches into the pouch hanging on his
belt and removes the medallion, handing it back to James. “I
grabbed it while I was getting you out of there,” he tells him.

Sighing with relief, he takes it and places
it once more around his neck. “Thank you,” he says gratefully to
Jiron.

“Thought you might want it when I saw it
lying there,” he says, grinning. “But we need to get going, if you
think you can ride.” He holds up the rope used to secure him to the
saddle and asks, “Should I tie you to the saddle or can you make it
on your own?”

“I think I’ll be okay for now,” James
assures him. As he tries to get back in the saddle, he has a little
difficulty with his coordination and balance. With a little help
from Jiron he makes it up onto the horse. Once in the saddle, he’s
able to maintain his balance well enough despite continual spells
of dizziness. With an eye on James, Jiron mounts up and they
continue on into the desert.

The next morning when James wakes up, all
effects of the drug have worn off. His head is clear and he once
again is able to maintain his balance. While they prepare to ride,
James realizes that his belt and slugs are gone.

“What’s wrong?” Jiron asks him.

“My belt with the slugs is missing,” he
explains. “They must have taken it when they captured me.”

Jiron takes the pouch off his belt and
tosses it over to him, “Look in there.” When James catches it and
opens it up he continues, “I think all your stuff is in there. I
quickly scraped everything off the table where they had placed your
things.”

James pulls out his belt and finds only five
slugs remaining. He puts it back on and then looks through the
pouch again. He pulls out a vial containing a clear liquid. Holding
it up, he takes a close look at it as he says, “This might be the
drug they used.” He hands it over to Jiron who examines it.

“Didn’t realize I had taken it,” he tells
him as he hands it back.

“It may come in useful,” James says as he
places it back in his pouch.
Yes, it may just come in
useful.

Before they mount, James pulls out his
mirror and again finds Miko in the dark, picking away at the stone
wall. “At least he’s still alive,” he says to Jiron.

“That’s something, for sure,” he
replies.

James takes out the piece of cloth and casts
his directional spell. It moves to indicate Miko lies off to the
southwest, a little more west than south. “He’s that way,” he says
to Jiron, pointing to the southwest before putting the cloth
away.

Jiron sits for a second on his horse,
contemplating how to say this, “You know, the noose is tightening.
By now, soldiers are going to be swarming this entire area looking
for us. And it’s not just soldiers in the hunt, but mages too.”

“What are you saying?” he asks him. “That we
should give up? Leave him to his fate?” Shaking his head, he says,
“No, I could never do that. If you feel you can’t continue, I’ll
understand, but I need to try, or die doing it.”

“It may well be impossible to reach him,” he
continues. “It may not be possible for us to even escape the
Empire.”

“Maybe not,” agrees James, “but I’ve got to
try.”

“Don’t worry about me abandoning you here,”
Jiron assures him, “I won’t. I just wanted you to understand that
things are getting more complicated.”

“I know,” he says. “I understand, we just
need to be more alert and careful.”

Jiron turns his horse to the southwest and
asks, “Ready to go?”

Nodding, he says, “Yes.”

As they ride, Jiron gets a notion and asks
James, “Can your mirror locate enemies in the area? If we had that
information, maybe we could avoid them and make better time.”

“Possibly,” he replies as he digs out his
mirror. Handing his reins to Jiron, he concentrates as he stares
into the mirror. The image blurs and then he sees a bird’s eye view
of them riding along. Expanding the view, he widens the scope to be
able to see more of the surrounding desert than just
themselves.

He’s able to scroll the image for some
distance in any direction. The further he scrolls the image away
from their position, the greater the amount of magic needed to
maintain the spell. He’s also always able to come back and center
the view on them with just a thought. “Yeah,” he tells him, “I
think I can manage that.”

“Good,” says Jiron. “Anyone in the
vicinity?”

James scrolls the image and then shakes his
head, saying, “No, there doesn’t appear to be anyone ahead. Off to
the north is a sizeable force but they’re not coming our way.”

“How far are we away from the coast?” he
asks.

James tries scrolling the image, but fails
to pick up the coast before the power drain becomes too severe. “I
don’t know,” he replies. “I’m not able to see that far.”

“Oh well, at least we know we’re okay for
awhile,” he says, relieved. “Just check it often so we’ll know when
to detour.”

“Alright,” agrees James. He checks the area
one last time and when he finds no one ahead, replaces the mirror
back into his shaving kit.

They ride for several hours, James checking
periodically for hostiles with his mirror. The second time he
checked, he found a dozen riders coming their way and they had to
swing to the south to avoid detection. Continuing to detour around
pockets of hostiles, they wind their way closer to the coast.

When night begins to fall, they stop for a
short meal. All they have with them is what the riders had with
them when Jiron appropriated their horses, which isn’t much. “Think
we should continue through the night?” Jiron asks him.

“I think the horses will be okay,” he
replies. “Besides, we’re less likely to be discovered in the dark
of night.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he tells him
as he finishes his meal and mounts. James mounts as well and they
continue their way toward the ocean.

Once night has fallen, the mirror becomes
useless as everything is black. Now they have to depend on their
senses to detect anyone approaching. A half moon rises later in the
evening, giving them some light to see by. Sometime around
midnight, they cross the main road going north and south. A short
time after that, they begin to see the moon being reflected off of
a body of water in the distance. The smell of salt in the air tells
them they’ve reached the ocean’s shore.

When they reach the shore, they pause a
moment as Jiron asks, “Now where?”

Taking out his cloth, James again casts his
directional spell and the cloth stiffens up and points out along
the coast, almost due south. “Further south, it looks like,” he
tells Jiron as he puts away his cloth.

“Guess we follow the shoreline,” he says to
James.

Nodding in the dark, James replies, “That
would seem to be the plan.”

They follow the shoreline for another hour
or two before running across what looks to be an old abandoned
shack set up along the beach. It looks the worse for wear but it
could hide them while they get a little sleep, they’re both
becoming quite tired. Jiron dismounts and goes up to the shack to
look inside. He signals James to come on over when he finds it
empty.

There’s barely enough room inside for them
and the horses, but leaving them outside would tell anyone passing
by that someone’s here. Bringing them in with them, they close the
door and alternate between sleeping and keeping watch through the
rest of the night.

The morning sun coming through the cracks of
the shack awakens James. He sits up abruptly when he fails to see
Jiron. His horse is here, but he’s not.

Going to the door, he looks out and sees him
outside walking along the shore, head down looking at the sand.
Coming out, he asks, “What are you doing?”

Jiron holds up a conch shell and says, “I
found this over by the water, incredible isn’t it?”

Smiling, James replies, “Yeah, that’s
something alright.”

With a last look around the sandy beach,
Jiron joins James as he walks back to the shack. Once back inside,
he puts the conch shell into one of his bags. “Going to give it to
Tersa when we make it back,” he explains.

“I’m sure she’ll like it,” he says.

They bring the horses out and mount, James
checks the mirror before they leave and finds no enemy soldiers in
the immediate vicinity or further to the south. He keeps the mirror
out so he can check it periodically as they make their way along
the shoreline.

After traveling for over an hour, James
asks, “You got any water?”

Jiron shakes his head and says, “No, I used
up the last of it this morning.”

“We’re going to need to find some soon, or
we’re not going to last long under this sun,” he tells him.

“I know, my horse really could use some
too,” he says. “Can you find a source close by?”

“Maybe,” he replies as he again gets out his
mirror. After concentrating on water, the mirror opens up on a
great expanse of water, “Think I may have found something.” He
expands the view and the edge of the water comes in and he sees two
men on horseback riding along beside it. His excitement ends when
he realizes that it’s Jiron and him that he’s seeing and that the
body of water is the ocean.

Frustrated, he begins concentrating on
‘fresh’, drinking water. The image blurs and then focuses in on a
small pool with several palm trees around the edge. “Got it!” he
exclaims.

“Where?” asks Jiron.

Adjusting the view and scrolling the image,
he determines it to be several miles off to the southeast.

“Anyone around?” he asks.

“Several people,” he replies, “but no
soldiers. They look to be just travelers stopping to get
water.”

Jiron nods his head, “We’ll have to chance
it.” He turns his horse to the southeast and they soon cross the
main road. One lone traveler sees them crossing but doesn’t seem to
be paying much attention to them.

As they ride, Jiron says, “That’s a handy
thing, your mirror.”

“Yeah,” replies James. “The more I use it,
the easier it is to find what I want.”

“Can you use anything?” he asks. “I mean,
like a pool of water or something?”

“I would think so,” replies James. “It would
be the same principle, so yeah, I could.”

About that time they begin to see palm trees
coming into view on the horizon. They slow their approach when they
see a dozen or so people around the water. “Must be a caravan of
some sort,” guesses James when he notices several wagons pulled up
around the oasis. A road stretches in the distance on the other
side of the oasis, going east to west.

“Looks like it,” Jiron agrees. “Let’s be
careful, get in and out quickly.”

“I’m with you on that,” states James.

They approach the oasis, making a beeline
straight for the water. When the others see them coming, they
watch, but don’t say anything.

Upon smelling the water, their horses
quicken their pace, eager to reach the pool. While their horses
begin drinking, they get down and fill their water bottles.
Glancing over to the others who share the oasis with them, they
notice that they’ve huddled together and are talking amongst
themselves, occasionally peering over to them.

James also notices that a couple of the
caravan guards have gone over to a wagon and are beginning to get
out crossbows. “Jiron!” James cries out. “Time to leave!”

Jiron looks over and sees the guards
preparing their crossbows and leaps into the saddle, James mounts
quickly as well. As the guards are winding their crossbows, they
turn their horses and head out of the oasis as fast as their horses
will carry them. They turn to follow the road westward.

“Wonder what that was all about?” Jiron asks
once they’ve put some distance between themselves and the
oasis.

“Rumors must be circulating about us by now,
I would imagine,” James replies. “Two men, of obvious northern
stock ride in out of the desert,” he continues. “I’d be cautious
too, maybe even be looking for a reward for taking us down.”

Jiron laughs.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“After all we’ve been through,” he says,
grinning, “escaping first Azzac and then Al-Kur. The thought of us
being brought down by a bunch of caravan guards, it just seems
funny.”

“I suppose,” replies James, not seeing the
humor in it. He pulls out the mirror and checks for hostiles in the
area, “Jiron, we got two approaching groups. A squad on foot to the
northeast who’re moving due south and a dozen riders on the road
ahead of us, coming our way.”