The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven (66 page)

“Seems as if the whole thing was very well
planned and executed,” Scar observes.

Nodding, James says, “Yes it did. There has
to be more to this Slavemaster than meets the eye.” Glancing to the
others he asks, “Anyone ever heard of him before?” When everyone
shakes their head he adds, “He must be just a local mover and
shaker.”

Jiron meets his eye and says, “The question
now is, do you trust him?”

“I think so,” replies James. “If he can give
us a diagram of some kind, it would sure help facilitate matters
when we enter the temple.” Then to Brother Willim he asks, “This
rite he mentioned that the priests of Dmon-Li perform during the
dark of the moon, ever heard of it?”

“Not specifically no,” he says. “But every
religion has days that are holy to them and each has specific rites
that they must perform during that time. It sounds plausible.”

“That’s two days away,” Jiron states. “Isn’t
that cutting it kind of close?” When everyone looks to him he adds,
“I mean, Tinok could be dead by then.”

“If they are performing a rite to Dmon-Li,”
Brother Willim says, “then that’s when they will be the most
distracted. Thus entering the temple would be less perilous.”

“And Cassie did say he had until ‘Killian’s
Shroud blinded the giant’s eye’,” James adds.

“Isn’t that considered to happen at
midnight?” asks Shorty.

Nodding, Brother Willim replies, “Yes.
Midnight is the darkest part of the night, and thus would hold
special meaning to those worshiping a god such as Dmon-Li.”

James gets a thoughtful look. “Any idea when
they would start the rites that night?” he asks Brother Willim.

“No,” he admits. “It could be right at
midnight or some time before.”

“Any way to find out by then?” Stig
asks.

“I don’t know,” Brother Willim says. “Any
attempt to find out would surely raise their suspicions.”

“I say we wait until the Slavemaster sends
the diagram,” James says. “He said it would arrive tomorrow.”

Nodding, Jiron glances to him and breaks
into a smile.

“What are you smiling at?” James asks. Then
he looks down at himself and remembers he’s in naught but a
loincloth and blushes. Turning to Brother Willim he asks, “Is there
anyway in which to remove the pigment you put on me?”

“Of course,” he says. “Just need to scrub it
vigorously in hot water and it should come right off.”

“Then Reilin, go down and see about
arranging for a hot bath here in the room right away,” he says to
him.

“Will do,” Reilin replies. Heading for the
door, he’s stopped by Miko who puts in a request for one as well.
Turning back to the others, he asks, “Anyone else?” Everyone
remains silent. Shrugging, Reilin turns back to the door and is
soon out in the hallway.

“I’ll meet you all downstairs once I’m
presentable again,” James tells the others.

Getting the idea he would like them to
leave, they file out of the room. James stops Jiron before he can
leave and says, “It might be wise to set up a watch through the
night. This close to our goal, I don’t want anything taking us by
surprise again.”

“Good idea,” he says then leaves with the
others out the door.

Once James is in the room alone with Miko,
he goes over to where his clothes and packs are. Digging in one of
his belt pouches, he removes his mirror. Then, he uses it to try
and see just what he looks like. When he finally gets a good idea,
he just shakes his head and puts the mirror away. He notices Miko
with a thoughtful look on his face as he remembers his time as a
slave. Then they both take their ease on the beds to wait for the
baths to arrive.

The following day Jiron takes most of the
others and they go check out the temple. Basically seeing if
there’s any indication of preparations of the rite the Slavemaster
told James of. Also to get a good idea of the layout of the
buildings, routes the temple guards take as they patrol the
grounds, those sorts of things.

James, having scrubbed himself clean the
night before and looking very much his normal self, decides to
remain at the inn to await the arrival of the diagram the
Slavemaster promised. Miko and Brother Willim agree to wait with
him. Also remaining at the inn are Aleya and the slave boy Aku. Now
in regular clothes, the boy is quite happy to simply do nothing but
stay in the room with Aleya. It was decided he shouldn’t go out in
public, no sense risking the chance that someone may recognize him
and blame him for the death of his master.

Sometime after the noon meal, there’s a
knock at James’ door. When he opens the door, one of the workers of
the inn hands him a rolled message. As Reilin is out with Jiron, he
is unable to question him about who dropped it off. So he nods his
head to the lad and closes the door.

“Is that it?” asks Miko. He and Brother
Willim are sitting at the table and have been discussing various
finer points to being a priest. To James it appears as if Miko is
really taking being High Priest to heart. At least he desires to be
the best that he can.

James unrolls the paper, or rather papers,
as there are two separate sheets. He brings them over to the table
and with the other’s help, spreads them out. The first one shows
the layout of the temple complex. One building is circled.

Pointing to the circled building James says,
“This must be the temple.”

Miko nods his head and then points to what
looks like the routes the temple guards take while patrolling the
grounds. “With this we should have little trouble in reaching the
temple,” he comments.

The other sheet is a bit more detailed. It
shows the inner layout of the temple. Not all of it, just the route
to the room holding the teleportation dais. There are annotations
at three points along the way to the dais room, but none of them
can read the annotations. It’s written in the Empire’s
language.

“Wonder what it’s trying to say?” Brother
Willim asks.

“I don’t know,” replies James. “It would
have been more helpful if they were written so we could understand
them.”

“At least we have the map,” Miko says
hopefully. “With this we should be able to reach the dais
quickly.”

James nods his head but still looks at the
three places where the annotations are the thickest. It worries him
what they might be trying to say.

They study them for an hour or so before
Jiron and the others return. When Jiron sees the maps, he begins
comparing the one of the outer temple complex to what he had just
been observing. “This looks like the routes we saw the guards
taking,” he says.

“Then we can assume the other is just as
accurate?” asks Scar.

“I would think so,” replies James.

“The patrols of the guards within the temple
aren’t noted,” Shorty says.

“It’s possible they couldn’t get those,”
offers Stig. “Or maybe there aren’t any guards roaming their
halls.”

“You have a point,” agrees Reilin. “I mean
really, who in their right mind would enter the temple
uninvited?”

James glances at Jiron and grins. “Who
indeed?”

Jiron grins back. “I’m going back to the
temple,” he announces. “I would like to make sure the routes the
guards take are indeed the same as those depicted here.” Picking up
the diagram of the temple complex layout, he places it within his
shirt.

“Be sure to take Reilin with you, just in
case,” suggests James.

“I’ll take Shorty and Stig too,” he says.
Then to Stig he adds, “You better leave your shield here until we
return.”

Stig nods and removes his shield.

Knock! Knock!

Shorty opens the door and finds Aleya and
Aku standing there in the hallway. Stepping back, he opens the door
wider so they can enter.

“I got tired of sitting in the room,” she
tells them as she and the boy enters. “What’s going on?”

They bring her up to date on what’s been
happening, also on Jiron’s next excursion out to check on the
temple guards. “See if you can scare me up some arrows too,” she
says. “The two I have left won’t do much good if things go
bad.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures
her.
Aku takes his seat on a chair in the corner and watches them as
they talk. He remains fairly quiet for the most part, almost
completely unobtrusive. But then again, that’s probably something
slaves have to do. He’s taken to Aleya, and of all of them, seems
to relax most around her. After what he’s been through and the way
he’s been treated, it could be a while before he’ll be able to
fully trust anyone.

“The boy doing alright?” asks Brother
Willim.

“Yes,” she replies, “he’s adjusting
well.”

Miko catches Jiron’s attention before he
walks through the door and says, “Bring back some tarts if you
can.”

“Look,” he says as his gaze moves across
those gathered there, “I am not going on a shopping trip. If you
want something, get it yourselves.”

“Alright, fine,” states Miko defensively.
“But if you do run across a baker, I’m sure Aku would love
some.”

“As well as the High Priest of Morcyth I
would imagine,” Stig says with a grin.

Miko returns the grin. “I’m sure he wouldn’t
turn any away.” At that the rest of them chuckle, if not outright
laugh.

Jiron shakes his head and hurries through
the door before something else delays him. Reilin, Shorty and Stig
follow right behind.

While they’re gone to verify the accuracy of
the temple complex diagram, the others adjourn to the common room
for dinner and entertainment. Brother Willim and Miko opt to remain
in the room and look after Aku, allowing Aleya the opportunity to
have some fun.

When Jiron and the others return several
hours later, they join the party in the common room. “Everything is
exactly as the paper says,” he tells them. Scar gets up from his
chair and takes another seat to allow Jiron to sit next to Aleya.
“Thanks,” he tells Scar as he sits down.

“Not a problem,” Scar replies.

“If that one is correct, then it’s safe to
say the other should be as well,” Reilin says quietly.

James nods his head, “All we have to do now
is wait for tomorrow night.”

“Fortunately that will allow us to be at
full strength when we begin,” Jiron says. Signaling the server, he
indicates that he and the others who just arrived with him would
like an ale. In short order she arrives with four mugs and sets
them on the table.

After knocking back almost half of his in
one long swig, Stig leans forward and says in a hushed tone, “While
we were there they brought a long string of slaves into the
temple.”

“I can imagine what use they’ll be put to
tomorrow night,” says James. His imagination begins churning
through different ways they might be used during the rites.
Sacrifice, blood offering, or maybe just stealing their life for
dark magics. The thought of the theft of their life for magic
brings him back to the question his own morality. About how he had
done the same when he used the sphere back in the Eye’s Court. Is
he really any better than they are?

Yes, he is.

What he did was out of survival. They are
doing it out of choice and that is the difference. The day he no
longer looks for better alternatives will be the day he can count
himself as being just as they are.

The rest of the evening passes well. A
traveling minstrel sets up on the platform at the end of the common
room and they sit and listen to him all night. When James finally
reaches the point where he can no longer keep his eyes open, he
takes his leave.

Upstairs he finds Brother Willim in deep
discussion of one theological idea or another. Off to one side of
the room, Aku is asleep on the floor. Miko shrugs when he glances
questioningly to him. “He wouldn’t sleep on the bed,” Miko
explains. “The look on his face when we tried to get him to was one
of distrust.”

“I don’t think he’s ever been on a bed
before,” Brother Willim replies. “At least other than with
Aleya.”

“As long as he’s comfortable,” James says.
“Try to get some rest. We’ll be leaving tomorrow night.” They both
nod and as he closes the door, resume their discussion. Too much is
on his mind as he makes his way down to his room. What will
tomorrow hold? Will they be successful? And what may await them
should they manage to reach the teleportation dais here in Zixtyn
and make it to the High Temple?

Once within his room he undresses for bed
and his eye catches sight of the barest sliver of a moon out his
window. Tomorrow night will be when Killian’s Shroud blinds the
giant’s eye. A shiver runs through him as he turns away from the
window and climbs into bed.

Since they were first brought here to this
dark cold place, the daily routine has been just that, routine.
Three meals a day, a new slops bucket twice a day and the continual
appearances by those strange little creatures who like so much to
stare at them. Only once had the routine ever changed.

A man had grown sick. Tinok didn’t know the
man and he was being kept in the cell adjacent to his, but one day
the man started coughing. Nothing serious, just a cough every now
and then. Perhaps it was due to the cold, the inactivity, or
something else, but the cough progressively worsened over the
course of two sleep periods. With no way to tell time, Tinok has
grown to judge it by the times when he sleeps.

After the second sleep period, one of the
cowled figures appeared and moved to the cell containing the sick
man. The cowled figure then opened the cell and entered. Moving
across to where the man was lying on the cold stone floor, it
stopped next to him.

A hand, rather emaciated with the skin
tightly stretched around the bones beneath, emerges from the robe’s
sleeve. A small flask is gripped by the hand and is brought forward
to the man. The poor guy is now trying in vain to scoot away but
another hand emerges from the other sleeve and grabs him.