The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven

by Brian S. Pratt

  “The journey won’t be good for him,” he tells him. “But what must be, must be.”

  “Alright then,” James announces. To Scar and Potbelly he says, “You two be in charge of helping Stig. The rest of us get ready to ride.”

  As Scar and Potbelly assist a weak and wobbly Stig onto his horse, Jiron goes over to Aleya where she’s staring off toward mist. “You alright?” he asks.

  Shrugging, she continues staring at the mist. “Is that what happens?” she asks.

  “I’m not sure I understand what you are asking,” he tells her.

  “When you and James go on your adventures,” she says then turns to gaze into his eyes. Pointing back to the mist she adds, “Do you get into situations like what we just went through?”

  Nodding, he places his hand on her shoulder and says, “Sometimes. But not always.”

  “I had no idea,” she admits. “Oh sure, we’ve been in scrapes since this summer began. But nothing like what we just went through.”

  He can see the fear in her eyes, worry for what the future may hold. “I understand how you feel,” he tells her. “Back there, I was scared to death let me tell you. For a while I thought we were through.”

  “What about next time?” she asks. “Suppose we don’t survive it? I’ve been thinking about what is going to happen should we somehow manage to find a way into the temple. I…I just don’t want to lose you.”

  “Nor I you,” he says.

  “Ahem.”

  Looking over his shoulder, Jiron sees James and the others are already in the saddle. He turns back to her and gives her a hug and kiss. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it through this.”

  Squeezing him tight, she says, “I hope so.”

  Breaking off the embrace, they move to their horses and mount. “Okay,” he says to the others, “let’s go.” Leaving the mist behind them, he heads eastward. Aleya rides beside him.

  It takes them over an hour before the mist disappears completely in the distance. Then they ride for another hour just for good measure before stopping for the night. When they do, Miko attends to the rest of the company who have injuries.

  Scar and Potbelly help Stig from his horse and onto his blanket where he goes to sleep almost immediately. Dinner is cold rations as they do not wish to take the risk of someone being in the area and see their fire. Before the rest of the company turns in, James and Jiron move away from the others and talk of what they should do. Brother Willim joins them.

  “Any ideas?” Jiron asks.

  “One, but I’m not sure if you’re going to like it,” he replies.

  “What?” asks Brother Willim.

  James pulls out the medallion he recovered from the underground temple they passed through near the fortress of Kern. In the starlight the sign of the warrior priest is barely visible.

  “You still have that?” he asks.

  “Oh yeah,” he replies with a nod.

  “What is it?” asks Brother Willim.

  James hands it to him and he inspects it for a moment before handing it back. “Have you ever heard of warrior priests being able to travel great distances in the blink of an eye?” he asks.

  “No,” he replies. “I have never heard that before.”

  James replaces the medallion within his pouch and says, “We’ve come across a system of teleportation daises in several different locations. The last time Jiron and I used one, we ended up in the very same temple complex where I first found this medallion.” He looks to Brother Willim to gauge his reaction.

  “I’m not sure I’m following you,” he admits.

  “Okay, let me explain it this way,” he says. Bending over, he pulls an old exposed plant root out of the ground and draws two circles in the dirt a foot apart. Pointing to the circles he says, “Suppose these represent two of the teleportation daises in two different temples. Say the temples are separated by a hundred miles of land and water. You with me so far?”

  “Yes,” nods Brother Willim. “Go on.”

  “Now,” he begins then points to the circle on the left, “should a person bearing one of these medallions step upon this dais, he will be instantaneously transported to the other.” Moving his root from the left circle, he brings it over and taps the one on the right. “I’m sure there is a way to control where the daises send you. The only problem is that I haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “What do you propose to do then?” Brother Willim asks.

  “Find someone who does,” he explains.

  “But wouldn’t that mean someone who has access to one of the medallions?” observes Brother Willim.

  “That’s right,” says Jiron. “And the only ones who would, would be those in the temples.”

  “I would even guess it to be only those in the temple hierarchy,” James says. “Which would mean they would be quite powerful.”

  “And you’re planning on forcing one of them to help you?” he asks.

  James nods. “I’m not sure how yet, or where, but we’re running out of time.”

  “Perrilin’s spent time down here,” Jiron says. “He may know of something that would suit our purpose.”

  “You’re right,” agrees James. “Bring him over if you would.”

  “Be right back,” he says then gets up and heads over to where the others are beginning to fall asleep. In little more than a minute, he returns with Perrilin.

  James gives him a rundown of what they plan and then asks him if there are any major temples nearby. “It needs to be a fairly large one as I’m not sure if they are all equipped with these teleportation daises.”

  “They’re not going to help you,” he tells them. “You better understand that right now.” He can see the determination in their eyes and adds, “They will die before they do.”

  “What other choice do we have?” Jiron asks. “Our time is beginning to run out.”

  He glances from James to Jiron then back again. Remaining silent while he searches their eyes, he finally asks, “You seriously mean to go through with this?”

  “Yes we are,” Jiron states with finality.

  “Very well then.” He then grins as he says, “If we don’t get ourselves killed in the process, this will make one unbelievable saga.”

  Jiron chuckles, “You got that right. It already has been.”

  “Now Cyst, the town we left rather abruptly had a temple, but it wasn’t what you would call a main one,” he explains. “Further to the south is a larger town by the name of Zixtyn. I’ve been there several times and the temple there trains many of Dmon-Li’s new acolytes. It’s not just a single temple but a complex of over a dozen large buildings and another score or more of auxiliary structures. If there’s any place that would have one of those teleportation daises, it’s there.”

  “How far is it?” Jiron asks.

  “Two, maybe three days,” he says. “There is another city just over a day or so to the east that has a temple, though it isn’t nearly as large as the one in Zixtyn. But if it should prove not to have one, it could complicate things.”

  Jiron nods, “Not to mention the fact that we would waste time Tinok does not have.”

  “I don’t think we have much choice,” James tells the others. “In the morning, we’ll make for Zixtyn.” Getting to his feet, he gives out with a yawn and says, “Best we get to bed.”

  “We all could use sleep after what we went through today,” agrees Brother Willim.

  They then return to where the others are already mostly asleep and find their blankets. Except for Jiron who has pulled the first watch, they are quickly asleep.

  Early the next morning when they rise they are alarmed to see the Mists of Sorrow visible to their west. “It’s a good thing we rode as far as we did before we stopped,” Reilin says.

  James turns to him and then gestures to the mist, “That’s why we did.” To Scar he asks, “How’s Stig doing?”

  “Better,” he replies. Scar and Potbelly are sitting with Stig and sharing a quick breakfast
before they get underway.

  Stig looks up and says, “I’m sore. Those creatures really pack a mean punch.”

  “You know,” begins Scar, “if they ever get the Pits open again, we could make a fortune if we could somehow manage to get one of them and put it in there to fight.”

  Eyes lighting up, Potbelly exclaims, “Everyone would come to see it, and pay handsomely for the opportunity!”

  Jiron turns on them and says, “Now all you have to do is go back into the mist and get one.”

  Scar waves away the hand, “Details, details.” He and Potbelly begin working on a way in which they could make this venture a reality.

  “They’ve got to be out of their minds,” Reilin comments to James.

  He grins and shrugs. “It gives them something to do.”

  They keep a constant watch on the Mists. It makes no move to either come closer or pull back, and nothing emerges from it. James was sure they would have kept up the pursuit, after all they had him and the others almost taken out as it was. The only explanation he’s been able to come up with is that the foes they encountered had the duty to prevent anyone from passing through the mist. And once they were out didn’t feel the need to continue the pursuit. Still, it doesn’t feel right.

  Once everyone is finished with their less than satisfying meal, they get their horses ready for travel and are soon on the road. “We’ll have to head more to the east on our way to skirt around the other side of the Mists of Sorrow,” Perrilin states. “There’s a major trade route over there that runs from Cyst to Zixtyn.”

  “But won’t they be looking for us after yesterday?” cautions Aleya.

  “Possibly,” replies James. Taking out his mirror, he holds it up and adds, “I’ll be keeping a lookout for anything that we may need to stay clear of.”

  “Besides,” adds Stig, “a major trade route will have heavy traffic traveling upon it which will enable us to blend in.”

  “Hadn’t thought of that,” admits James. “Good thinking.” To Jiron he says, “You and Reilin take the lead. Head due east until we come to the road.”

  “You got it,” he says. Then with a nudge into the sides of his horse, he takes the lead with Reilin right beside him. The others fall in behind and they make their way across the desert to the east.

  It takes them three hours of riding before the trade route leading to Zixtyn comes into sight. Periodically during that time James uses his mirror to scan for hostiles in the area only to find it clear. Long before they come to the road, James finds it in his mirror. Many wagons, riders and people on foot are upon the road traveling in both directions.

  After he tells the other what he saw, Perrilin nods and says, “It’s one of the main roads in the Empire. It’s the most direct way from the Empire’s southern territories to those in the north.”

  “We shouldn’t have much problem getting lost in the crowd then,” James states.

  When those traveling upon the road finally come into view, the others agree with his statement. Pressing forward, James and Reilin lead the others over to the road. As they approach, those upon the road give them curious looks. A group of riders coming in out of the desert, two of the horses having two riders upon their backs, all in all a rather odd occurrence for this area. None of those traveling upon the road do more than look however, and they soon leave them far behind.

  During the rest of the day, Perrilin keeps the hood of his cloak tight about his face. It’s unlikely that anyone upon the road will recognize him, but you never know. When they reach the town of Hyrryth a couple hours before sundown, he tells them that they need to stop here for the night.

  “Why?” asks Jiron. His anxiousness in reaching Zixtyn is written plainly upon his face.

  “I need to remove Kir and don another face,” he says. “There is a shop here in Hyrryth where I can procure the needed materials.”

  “Very well,” decides James. “Aside from that we can all use a rest.” Glancing to where Stig rides with Potbelly, he can see him drooping in the saddle. Although it’s true the Star healed him, such healing always takes a toll on the strength of the one healed. The magic of the Star uses in part the energy of those it heals, and only time and rest will replenish it.

  Jiron acquiesces and when they reach the walls of Hyrryth, Jiron leads them through the gates and into the city.

  “Best if I lead here,” Perrilin says. Moving past Jiron, he takes the lead. He continues down the street leading from the gate for several blocks before turning down a smaller side street to the left. Not too far down this street he stops before a two story building with a sign depicting a skewered scorpion.

  Dismounting, Perrilin says “I’ll be right back.” He then goes up the stairs and in through the front doors.

  “Shouldn’t he worry about someone inside recognizing him?” Reilin asks in a whisper to James.

  “I would think so,” he replies. “But I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

  A few minutes later, he emerges with another man. Both are talking in hushed tones as they leave the inn. They pause a moment just outside the door and Perrilin hands the man a small pouch, which from the sound it makes when it exchanges hands is filled with coins. The man glances to James and the others then turns and begins walking down the street.

  When James makes to ask Perrilin what’s going on, Perrilin puts his finger to his lips and gives a slight shake of his head. Then he says, “Stable’s around the back.” Taking the reins of his horse, he leads the others down a side alley and then into the rear courtyard. Once they have the horses settled in for the night with a pail of oats the stableboy supplied for each, they leave the stable and make for the rear door to the inn.

  Inside, they pass through the common room and then into a hallway leading to their rooms. “I was able to get six rooms,” he says. “I hope that will be enough?”

  “It will be fine,” James assures him.

  They each get settled into their rooms and then gather in James and Jiron’s room. “So who was the man you left the inn with?” asks Shorty.

  “Just someone whom I’ve dealt with before,” he replies. “He went to get the items I need to remove Kir from the world.”

  “Been here before I take it?” Scar asks.

  “My journeys have taken me many places,” he tells him.

  James looks at him and wonders just how far flung his network extends. Though Perrilin has never come right out and said it, he has to be a spy or something similar. After all he uses disguises, Lord Cytok who is the right hand of the Emperor wants him in a bad way, and things always seem to happen when he’s around. Someday he hopes to discover who he really is and what his agenda may be.

  “Mind if we go down to the common room for a drink?” Scar asks. When he sees that look come to him that usually means an argument is pending, he adds, “We promise not to get into any trouble.”

  “Very well,” agrees James. “Just be sure you don’t.”

  Taking Reilin with them, the pit fighters head down the hallway to the common room. James watches them go then turns to Jiron, “You’re not going?” he asks.

  Shaking his head, he says, “Aleya and I will head down in a little bit.”

  “Oh?” he asks.

  Jiron gives him a grin and says, “Nothing like that.”

  “If you say so,” James tells him.

  Then with Aleya on his arm, he leaves the room and escorts her down to her room.

  “They make a nice couple,” Brother Willim states.

  “That they do,” agrees James.

  A short while later the man whom Perrilin sent for the items he requires returns and gives him a package. Perrilin thanks the man and then adjourns to his room where he will begin to work on removing all traces of Kir. The man leaves once Perrilin has the package and is heading for his room.

  “I think I’ll stay here and read more of the Book of Morcyth,” Miko says. Brother Willim offers to remain with him and he accepts.

  Havin
g nothing else to do, James takes his leave and makes his way out to the common room. Finding Scar and the others at a table off to one side, he heads over and joins them.

  The food here at the Skewered Scorpion is rather good and after they have finished with their meal one of the traveling bards shows up. At first James thought this may be Perrilin in disguise, but when he began singing his first song, knew that it wasn’t. The man wasn’t even in the same league as Perrilin where music is concerned. Still, the bard’s music was enjoyable.

  Two hours after James joined them, Perrilin makes his appearance. His skin is again back to its normal color and his hair is very dark, all in all looking quite different than he did when he was Kir.

  “Looking good,” he says as Perrilin sits down.

  “Yeah,” agrees Shorty. “Hardly look like you did.”

  “Well, let’s not talk about it if it’s all the same,” he says.

  James nods understandingly. He then looks over to where the hallway down which their room lies opens onto the common room. Jiron and Aleya should have been out here by now. Not to mention Miko, he’s never been one to miss out on food.

  “Sounds like you had a tough childhood,” Aleya says to him as she lies in his arms. Ever since leaving the others and coming to her room, they’ve lain on her bed. Doing nothing more than holding one another and talking, they’ve completely lost track of time.

  “We did,” he replies. “If it wasn’t for the Pits, I don’t know how Tersa and I would have survived.” Then his stomach gives out with a loud growl, informing him of the lack of sustenance it holds. Glancing to the window, he sees that night has fallen outside.

  A single candle burns on the room’s table, just when it had been lit he can’t recall. “Maybe it’s time we go join the others and get something to eat.”

  She reaches her lips to his and gives him a soft kiss. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” she says. Another moment’s embrace then they get off the bed and leave the room.

  The noise from the common room fills the hallway with loud raucous laughter and conversation. As they close the door to her room, Jiron notices light coming through the door to James’ room. Stopping next to it, he puts an ear to the door.