The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven (61 page)

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Authors: Brian S. Pratt

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BOOK: The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven
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Reilin returns with Stig who together take
the food packs out back to secure onto the horses.

“You better get out of here,” Perrilin
urges. “It won’t be long before the search will be on.”

“Right,” he says. “Until next time.” Then
with Brother Willim in tow, he crosses the common room and leaves
the inn by the back door. Jiron and the others are already in the
courtyard waiting with the horses. Two additional horses are
present, replacements for the ones lost in the Mists.

Jiron sees him exit and says, “Everything’s
set.”

“Good. Let’s get going.” James then moves to
one of the horses and mounts.

The man who had led them to the Keep comes
to stand beside his horse. “A man of ours reported that the gates
leading from the city to the south were open less than an hour
ago,” he says. “If you’re lucky, they still will be.”

“Then let’s not waste time talking,” Jiron
says. He nudges his horse into motion and heads for the gate
leading from the inn’s courtyard.

“Safe journeys,” the man says.

“Thank you for everything,” James replies
then turns to follow Jiron.

They are soon out on the street and moving
quickly toward the southern gate. Smoke continues to thicken as
fires rage in several areas of the city. In the haze and darkness,
visibility is reduced to almost nothing. If it weren’t for the
lighted street lamps hanging at the intersections, they would never
have been able to find their way to the gates.

When they finally turn down the street that
runs directly to the southern gate, Jiron gets his horse up to a
fast trot. There are no fires in this area and the only people on
the streets are the more disreputable of the city’s citizens. Not
so much beggars as prostitutes and what James takes for thieves and
drunkards. They pay them little mind other than a woman calling to
them as they pass.

“There’s the gate,” Jiron says as its gaping
maw appears out of the smoky darkness ahead.

“Anyone around?” Scar asks.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he says. “Stay
alert.”

They ride up to the gate at a quick pace.
Each scans the area ahead and to the sides of the street for the
presence of any hostiles lying in wait. The wall above the gate
appears clear as does the area before it.

James all of a sudden gets the feeling
they’re being watched. Could be just nerves and lack of sleep, but
he feels like there’s someone out there. He pulls one of his few
remaining slugs from his belt and holds it ready. Ahead of him,
Jiron has pulled ahead and is just about to pass through the gate.
The area remains quiet.

Kicking their horses into a faster pace,
they bolt through the gate and hit the road on the other side. No
bolts fly from the dark, nor do soldiers manifest and try to stop
them.

“Did we kill them all back at the Keep?”
asks Reilin.

“That, or they’re busy fighting the fires,”
James replies. Glancing back at the city, he can see the glows from
where the different fires still burn.

Jiron sets a furious pace as they leave
Hyrryth behind. The sliver of a moon overhead shows that time is
all but up. A few more days at the most and the Shroud of Killian
will again blind the giant’s eye.

They ride for an hour until all sight of the
city and the fire’s glow disappear behind them. Then they pull off
the road for a ways and make camp. They leave the horses saddled in
the event a quick getaway is required. Jiron takes the first watch
and begins walking around the camp’s perimeter to help keep himself
awake. The others work to get their bedrolls rolled out on the
ground and positioned in the dark. A few hours sleep before they
plan to hit the road again.

James feels a hand shaking him awake as a
voice says, “James, wake up. It’s morning and Jiron wants to get
moving.”

Groaning, James rolls over and says,
“Doesn’t he ever sleep?”

“I don’t think so,” replies Miko. Despite
not looking at him, James can hear the grin in his voice. “Get up
before he comes over here and wakes you up.”

“I’d like to see him try,” James says with
eyes still closed.

Miko’s hand again shakes him. “Come on,
everyone else is already awake.”

James lifts his head and cracks open his
bloodshot eyes. Looking around, he verifies the truth of Miko’s
claim. Taking a deep breath, he releases it and says, “Alright.
Give me a second.”

“I’ll have some food ready for you when you
get up,” Miko tells him.

“Thanks.” He hears Miko get to his feet and
walk away. He almost falls back asleep before he even realizes it.
Right in the middle of a dream about nothing in particular, a boot
begins nudging him. Opening his eyes he sees Jiron standing
there.

“Can’t a guy get any rest around here?” he
asks.

“No,” he says. “Tinok’s time is almost gone.
We no longer have the luxury of resting and taking our ease.”

Sighing, James says, “I know.” Sitting up,
he looks to Jiron and can see the worry in his face. It troubles
him to see that. With sleep now an impossible goal, he gets up and
makes ready to travel. After finishing off a quick meal Miko hands
him, they mount and begin making for the road.

Back at the road they join the traffic
already upon it and turn south. “It’s at least two days until we
reach Zixtyn,” Jiron announces. “Let’s pray we have no further
delays.” Kicking the sides of his horse, he’s soon up to a gallop.
Then they begin putting miles behind them.

Chapter Thirty Four
_________________________

Two days of hard riding bring them at last
to the walls of Zixtyn. The way it sprawls across a wide area makes
it one of the largest towns they have yet come across. Which is odd
seeing as how no major waterway runs through it. Usually people
tend to settle where there’s water, like a river or lake. But here
there’s nothing. No river, no lake, yet here they are.

“This place is huge,” comments Scar when it
first comes into sight. “You wouldn’t think such a large population
could survive together out here.”

“I know,” agrees James.

Off to the west of the city sits a large,
tall edifice which can only be a temple. Dark and foreboding, it
almost seems to draw light into itself rather than reflect it
outwards. Surrounding the temple are many buildings of various
sizes which have to be the place where the training of Dmon-Li’s
priests takes place.

“That’s it,” says Brother Willim. “That’s
what we have to get inside.”

“Oh, man,” utters Reilin.

A wall surrounds the complex but isn’t
designed to keep people out. It’s more to mark off the area as part
of the temple complex. There are many ways in which to pass
through, many gates and openings.

“There’s not much light left,” Jiron
announces. “Best if we find an inn and do a little reconnoitering
in the morning.”

James turns and looks at him askance. “In
the morning?”

Nodding, he replies, “Yes. We still have at
least two days left. Now that we’re close we can’t afford to act
prematurely or rashly. In the morning I’ll take Reilin and Shorty
and scout the area.”

“Good idea,” agrees James.

It takes another half hour before they reach
the outlying buildings. Not so much due to distance as people. Many
people crowd the streets and they are forced to slow to a crawl in
order to make it through.

Several inns appear along the road as they
pass through the outskirts, most of which look to be dives or even
worse. They decide to continue further into Zixtyn until they come
across a decent one.

There are guards moving along the street but
they don’t pay James and the others any more attention than they do
to everyone else. They’re there more to keep order than looking for
men wanted by the Empire.

Jiron leans next to James and whispers,
“Word about what happened up north hasn’t reached here yet.”

James nods and whispers back, “Doesn’t look
like it.” Then all of a sudden the tingling sensation runs across
his skin. Magic is close. He starts looking around to find its
source when Brother Willim takes notice of what he’s doing. Moving
his horse closer he says, “It’s the temple. They’re performing
magic there.”

Calming down, James turns to look at him.
“It is a school,” Brother Willim explains. “They are just
practicing.”

“I hope you’re right,” he says. Still
unnerved by the constant tingling, he continues to scan the area
for any mages. And come to think of it, this is the first time he’s
felt the presence of another doing magic other than those he’s
traveling with, since that battle with the mages. Could it be
possible he took them all out with the explosion? He doubts it, but
why else would no mages be present? Nor warrior priests for that
matter, just that one time in the Mists of Sorrow when they were
attacked. Definitely curious.

Pressing on into town, they reach an area
where five streets converge onto a large plaza area. In the center
of the plaza is a large stone structure easily three stories tall.
On one side, teen feet from the ground, a long wooded pole extends
outward for about fifteen feet. Then it connects to another series
of wooden beams that form a lattice work above where four mules are
turning a wheel.

At the base of the tower on the opposite
side from where the mules turn the wheel, water issues forth to
fill a large trough area. Women, slaves, and small children are
there filling large jugs with water.

“So this is where their water comes from,”
James observes. “They pump it from beneath the ground.”

“It would take many such buildings to
satisfy the thirst of so many people,” Brother Willim adds.

“There well may be more,” James replies.

Three smaller troughs catch the overflow
from the larger. All three have children playing in them. One man
has paused next to one of the smaller troughs and is allowing his
horse to drink.

As their horses are in need of water, they
move to another of the smaller troughs and let them drink their
fill. While there, James takes a closer look at the water pump.
Always one interested in ancient technology, he admires what
they’ve accomplished. Though with his technologically advanced
knowledge, he can see where they could improve on the design.

Slaves, both male and female, come and go as
they fill water jugs. The sight of them fills James with disgust.
How one human being can ever consider another as property is beyond
his understanding. Off to one side, a small child dressed in a
slave loincloth is being strapped by an older man. James feels a
hand on his shoulder and that’s when he realizes he was on his way
over to rescue the child. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Jiron
there.

“We can’t,” he says.

James can see the pain in his eyes too. Ever
since traveling with James, he’s grown much more conscious to the
plight of those around him, especially kids. Steeling himself,
James turns his back and tries to shut out the crying of the child.
“Let’s get out of here,” he tells Jiron.

“Sure,” he says. Then he returns to the
others and they start to get back in the saddle.

James walks woodenly to his horse and
mounts. Unable to help himself, he glances back to where the child
was being beaten and finds him lying unmoving on the ground. The
man has stopped strapping the boy and says something to the child
as he nudges him with his toe. Still the child remains
unmoving.

He watches in horror as the man works the
toe of his boot under the body and flips it over. The boy’s head
lolls to one side. That’s when it finally hit home that the man
must have killed the boy. His vision turns red as anger suffuses
him. A slug makes its way into his hand and he cocks back his arm
to deliver judgment on the man for the death of the child. Just as
he’s about to throw, an arm grabs his and stops him. Turning, he
sees Miko there.

“The child’s not dead,” he says quietly.
“Though he will be if we do nothing.”

Turning back to the boy, he sees the man
nudge him one more time with his foot then turn and walk away. None
of the other people on the street even so much as bat an eye at
what this man has done to a child. Probably because the child is a
slave and who really cares about the fate of a slave.

Leaping from his horse, James runs across
the plaza toward the child. Picking him up, he can tell that he’s
only unconscious. Blood from the boy’s wounds where the man’s strap
had cut into him smears his arms and clothes but he doesn’t
care.

Standing up, he turns back only to find
Jiron standing there. “Find us an inn, fast!” he insists.

Jiron looks about ready to protest. Then he
sees the seriousness in James’ face and nods. Moving over to
Reilin, he points toward the main thoroughfare and tells him to
find the first inn and get them some rooms. Moving quickly, he
hurries to get it done.

James starts carrying the boy toward the
street where Reilin disappeared in search of an inn. Miko is beside
him and has a hand on the boy’s chest. “He’s going to make it,” he
assures him.

Hardly even hearing him, all he can think of
was that he turned his back on this child and it almost cost him
his life. Never again.

The others are following along behind, Scar
and Potbelly are leading James and Miko’s horses. When Reilin
appears in the street ahead of them, he holds up several keys
indicating he’s procured rooms for them. Having him lead the way,
James follows with the boy.

Jiron has the others take the horses around
back to the stable as he and Brother Willim accompanies James and
Miko inside. The inn is rather nice, probably costs way too much,
but he fails to notice. All his thoughts are now on the boy.

Reilin takes them through the front door and
skirts around the common room. The proprietor sees them carrying
the boy in but doesn’t say anything when he sees the slave cloth
around his loins. Up the stairs and down the hall, he takes them to
the third door on the right and opens it for James.

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