The mists of sorrow ms-7

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The mists of sorrow ms-7 Page 34

by Brian S. Pratt


  Kir’s gaze continues to sweep the audience as he sings, yet more often than not, it settles directly on James. When he notices James looking at him, he gives him an almost imperceptible nod then moves his gaze to the next.

  Perrilin? Here? Now that he’s made the connection, he can see that this Kir is indeed the bard Perrilin he met long ago, despite the fact that his hair is now blonder and skin more dark. He must have been the one that sent the note! But why?

  He keeps this realization to himself. Past experiences when dealing with Perrilin now gives him pause about informing Jiron and Reilin. Who knows who else may be listening? On one occasion he saved Perrilin from a group of men who were torturing him. Those men had been led by a man named Korgan, who James mentally refers to as Ol’ One Eye. He calls him that due to the scar James had given him across the face that blinded one eye when he rescued Perrilin from their clutches.

  As it turned out, this Korgan was an agent of Lord Cytok who is the left hand of the Empire’s Emperor, a very important and influential person. James owes this Korgan big. Not only was he responsible for the opening of the gates at the City of Light and allowing the Empire in, but he has been trouble for James on several other occasions as well.

  Whatever Perrilin is up to, he obviously doesn’t want his true identity revealed. Being a spy, as that is what he has to be in one form or another, here in the Empire would be a death sentence should he be found out. So James keeps his thoughts to himself, sits back and enjoys the music.

  Hour after hour they sit there and listen to Perrilin sing. He can see the other two growing more and more impatient when no one comes to them and makes themselves known. “Maybe something happened to him,” James says. “If whoever it is doesn’t show, at least we’ve had a good night’s entertainment.”

  “I don’t like this one bit,” Jiron says as he lowers his voice. He isn’t able to completely enjoy the music and songs, worry for his friend Tinok and impatient that they may very well be wasting their time here gnaws at him.

  “What about the others?” asks Reilin. “What do you think they are thinking since we haven’t returned?”

  “I’m sure they are alright,” Jiron replies. “They won’t get worried unless they see things blow up.” James nods his head and gives him a grin.

  “Let’s at least stay here until Kir finishes for the night,” James says. “Then we can go.”

  Sighing, Jiron says, “Very well. But I hope this isn’t a complete waste of time.”

  James looks to Kir, a.k.a. Perrilin, there on the stage and replies, “I don’t think it will be.”

  At one point when Perrilin takes one of his breaks, James gets up and says, “I need to use the bathroom.” He then moves toward the back door while at the same time working to intercept Perrilin on his way to the kitchen.

  “Why does he want a bath?” he hears Reilin asks Jiron.

  Then he hears Jiron chuckle. “He doesn’t,” he explains. “You’ll soon find that he uses many expressions that say one thing and mean something entirely different. This one means he has to…” The rest of what Jiron says to Reilin is lost in the buzz of the common room as he moves closer to Perrilin.

  Perrilin notices him moving toward him and as their paths cross, he gives him a slight shake of the head and mumbles, “Afterward, outside.” Without even pausing he continues to the back and passes through the door into the kitchen.

  Likewise, James continues on to his supposed destination and leaves the common room. He then makes his way to the outhouse out back. Nasty things outhouses, this is one of the things about this world he will never get used to. Back home, the odd time when he had to use similar facilities, such as when he was camping, had been a novelty. Now it’s just plain disgusting.

  When he finally returns to the common room, Perrilin has yet to make his appearance again. As he takes his seat, Jiron leans forward and indicates two fellows sitting off to one side. “Do they look familiar to you?” he asks.

  Looking to where he’s pointing, he sees the two men in question. “Yes, they do,” he replies. They are the two slavers Reilin had talked with just before they left the slaver’s compound. They take notice of the fact that they are being watched and their expressions turn dark.

  “Hope they try something,” Jiron says.

  “Here?” Reilin asks. “I doubt it.”

  “Why would they?” asks James. “They may hate us and would like nothing better to make us slaves, but even men such as them are constrained by society’s laws.”

  “I have found that some men don’t care a whole lot about ‘society’s laws’,” Jiron states.

  “So have I,” agrees Reilin.

  Just then, Perrilin makes his appearance from the kitchen and works his way through to the stage. When he reaches the stage, he picks up his instrument and gazes at the audience. He calls for any requests and the crowd shouts back the names of their favorite pieces.

  Settling on one, he takes his seat and begins a long love ballad filled with tragedy, death, but ultimately ends in happiness. When he’s done, he calls for another request and continues to play requests for another hour or so. Despite the lateness of the hour, the common room remains full. None apparently wish to miss out on even one song that Kir might play.

  Then there comes a time when he begins strumming his instrument and announces that this will be his last song of the evening. Several people shout out protests, more an imploring for him to continue than anything else. But he shakes his head and says that this must be his last song. Then he launches into a lively one that the crowd must know well for many begin thumping the table. At the chorus, some of the crowd joins in and before the song comes to an end, the whole common room is singing the chorus.

  At the end of the song, the common room erupts into a wild display as people rise and give him a thunderous applause. Coins fly to the stage, hardly any landing in the vicinity of the bowl, and Perrilin bows to them twice.

  As he begins to pick up the coins, the patrons start to leave. Most make it a point to come to him and exchange words or pat him on the back. It’s clear that he is a favorite around here and that for many, this isn’t the first time they’ve been here to hear him play.

  “Can we go now?” asks Jiron. “Whoever your Mr. Mysterious is, he isn’t going to show.”

  Standing up, James nods his head. Then with a final look over to where Perrilin is collecting the coins people threw, he follows Jiron outside. The mood of those who had experienced Perrilin’s performance can only be called exhilarated. Outside, they hear many animated conversations between those who have seen him before and others who had not. It doesn’t take Reilin to explain to the other two what’s being said for them to get the gist of it.

  Several coaches are already leaving, only a couple others still awaiting their passengers. One coach is especially fine with gold worked in intricate detail. That coach has a compliment of half a dozen guards besides the two men on the driver’s seat.

  “Come on,” says Jiron. “Let’s get back to the others before they begin worrying, if they aren’t already.” Striding down the street, it doesn’t take him long before he realizes James is beginning to fall behind him and Reilin. Slowing down, he sees him casting frequent glances back to the tavern. Finally, he comes to a stop when the tavern is just within sight.

  “Let’s stop here a moment,” he tells the others. Then he has them move to the side of the street and stand in the lee of a building where the shadows are the thickest.

  “Why?” Jiron asks.

  Motioning for the other two to come close, he keeps a constant eye on the front door of the Wallowing Swine as he explains. “The person who wrote the note was in the tavern,” he tells them.

  “Who?” asks Reilin.

  “I didn’t see anyone,” says Jiron.

  In a very quiet voice, so quiet the other two can barely hear him, he whispers, “It was Kir.”

  “The bard?” asks Reilin.

  “Yes,” nods
James.

  “How do you know?” Jiron asks.

  “I just do,” he replies. “He wants us to meet him here in the street.”

  “Someday you’ll have to tell me how you found all this out,” Jiron says.

  “Shhh!” James tells them for he just saw Perrilin come out of the front door of the tavern. He points over to where a group of people are standing just outside the front door talking to him. The manner in which they are speaking to him leads them to believe they are congratulating him on a superb performance. They watch as he shakes the hands of several of the men then turns and begins walking down the street in their direction. The people with whom he had been talking give him a final farewell then move off in the opposite direction.

  As he approaches, Jiron begins to move out in the street when James grabs him and whispers, “Not yet.” He waits until Perrilin is close then begins to softly whistle Home on the Range.

  Perrilin must have heard him for he alters his course slightly and moves more directly to where they are. When he gets close, he gives a quick glance up and down the street then moves into the shadows where they are waiting. James begins to speak but Perrilin cuts him off with a shake of his head and signals for them to be quiet by putting his finger against his lips.

  They hold still a moment, unsure what is going on. Then a motion down the street draws their attention and they see two men working their way from the direction of the Wallowing Swine. From the way Perrilin is watching them, James can tell there’s something going on here of which he is ignorant.

  As the two men walk down the street, they casually look this way and that. All the while they continue to maintain a steady pace. When they finally move past the spot where they’re hiding and disappear down the road, Perrilin says, “They’ve been keeping an eye on me lately.”

  “Does this have anything to do with Korgan?” asks James.

  Eyes widening at the name, Perrilin asks in return, “What makes you say that?”

  “Just the fact that ever since I rescued you from him in Cardri,” he explains, “he’s had it out for me.”

  Perrilin looks to him and the other two and nods, “In a way.”

  Jiron moves closer and asks, “Why did you have us meet you?”

  Perrilin glances to him and recognizes him from the time before. “Jiron right?” he says.

  “Yes,” he replies, surprised at how this man knows him.

  James sees the confusion on his face and clarifies it for him. “This is Perrilin.”

  “Perrilin?” he asks, still not sure if he should believe him. “You don’t look anything like the Perrilin I know.”

  “That’s the whole idea,” he says. “This isn’t a good place to talk.” Glancing up and down the street again, he says, “Follow me and then we can discuss a few things.”

  Jiron looks at Perrilin, still not convinced but trusts in James’ judgment. When Perrilin steps out into the street, he follows along with James and Reilin right beside him. Perrilin quickly leads them further down the street away from the Wallowing Swine and turns left at the next crossroads.

  Down this way the number of lit street lights gradually diminishes until all they have is moonlight overhead. They continue to follow him for several more minutes when he all of a sudden moves off the street and toward the doorway of the building on his right. Going up to the door, he knocks twice hard then one time softly.

  From the other side, the sound of a bolt sliding open can be heard. Then the door opens a crack and a man peers through the opening. “Kir!” he exclaims throwing the door open wide.

  “I may have been followed,” he says and the man nods. Then as soon as they are inside the small room, the man closes the door and bolts it. Perrilin tells the man, “Have your people take a look around out there just to be sure.”

  “Don’t worry,” he says as he eyes James, Jiron and Reilin suspiciously, “it’ll be done.”

  “These are friends,” Perrilin tells him.

  The man gives them a quick nod then moves into the next room.

  “Who is that?” Jiron asks. “And who is following you?”

  “Not here,” he says and then motions for them to follow. He leads them through the door that the other man had passed through and into the room on the other side. A woman and two children sit on a bed pushed against one wall and eye them as they pass through. Neither they nor Perrilin say anything. From a table near the bed, Perrilin picks up one of the candles burning there and takes it with him.

  Once they’ve passed through into the hallway, he leads them down to a doorway on the left. Opening it up, he indicates for them to precede him inside. The doorway is twice as thick as the average door and made of solid wood. As James and the others move inside and Perrilin shuts the door, he notices that all noise from outside of the room is gone.

  “Quiet room?” he asks.

  Perrilin nods as he takes a seat at one of the chairs sitting around a lone table. The others take seats as well. “We found that such a room comes in handy when you wish not to be overheard,” he explains.

  “Is it magical?” asks Reilin.

  Shaking his head, Perrilin says, “No. Just built very thickly.”

  “Now what is going on around here?” Jiron asks.

  “Let’s just say that some of my associates and me don’t exactly have the good will of the powers that be,” he says.

  “What do you mean?” Jiron asks, obviously not satisfied with the answer.

  Perrilin gestures to the Empire type clothes Jiron is wearing and says, “As someone who himself is trying to not draw attention, I’m sure you’ll understand if I decline to say more.”

  “Your business is your own,” says James. “Though I would like to know why you gave us the note.”

  “Earlier I saw you going into the slaver compound,” he tells them. “And then later when I saw you leave, you had the look of someone with a great deal on their minds. So I had a boy I knew give you the note and hoped you would take the chance and come.”

  “Why?” asks Jiron. “Sounds as if you have enough troubles without getting yourself involved with ours.”

  Perrilin gazes at him a moment and says, “There was a time when I was in trouble and someone came to my aid. Can I do less to repay the debt I owe?”

  “You don’t owe me any debt,” James tells him. “Your help in introducing me to Ellinwyrd was payment enough.”

  “Nevertheless,” he replies, “I still feel onus to help you now.”

  “Maybe he can help,” suggests Reilin.

  Jiron looks to James who nods. “It can’t hurt and I definitely trust him,” James says. Then turning to Perrilin, he adds, “We need to talk with the slaver named Buka.”

  Perrilin grows quiet at that. “Why?” he finally asks. “Do you plan to kill him?”

  Shaking his head, James says, “No. All we want is some information.” He then goes briefly into the final dream he had of Cassie and Tinok, what she said about the fate hanging over him, and of the trail they’ve followed thus far in search of their friend. When he finishes, he has Jiron take out the necklace and show it to him. “This is all we have to go on,” he concludes. “The last person we talked to said that he got it from Buka a slaver here in Cyst. Now, we need to find out what Buka knows.”

  “Do you know him?” Jiron asks.

  “Oh yes,” he says with a nod. “He is the Guildmaster of the slavers in this area. A very powerful person whom it isn’t wise to cross.”

  “Can you think of a way for us to talk to him?” James asks.

  “It isn’t as simple as you are making it out,” he says. “No one simply goes up and talks to Buka. Very few around here have even seen him.”

  “We heard he is presently within the slaver compound here in Cyst,” states Jiron.

  “That well may be true,” nods Perrilin. “From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t leave here often.”

  “Can you be of any help?” asks Jiron. “If what James was told in the drea
m is true, then Tinok has less than two weeks to live.”

  Shaking his head, he says, “I don’t have any connections within the slaver guild I’m afraid.”

  “Do you know what he looks like?” James asks.

  “Yes,” he replies. “But I don’t know how that is going to be of any help.”

  Jiron looks to James. “Is it?” he asks.

  “Maybe,” he replies. Removing his mirror from its pouch, he says, “I’ve never done it quite this way before.”

  “Done what?” Perrilin asks suspiciously, his gaze upon the mirror.

  “Try to find someone,” he explains as he sets the mirror on the table between them.

  “With magic?” he asks.

  “How else?” James says.

  “Is it going to hurt?” Perrilin asks.

  Shaking his head, James replies, “No. What I want you to do is to visualize Buka in your mind, close your eyes if you need to.”

  Perrilin nods his head and closes his eyes. When he has Buka’s image clearly depicted, he asks, “Okay, now what?”

  “Nothing,” replies James. “Just keep the image in your mind as clear as you can until I tell you to stop.”

  “Alright,” he says, eyes still closed.

  James then turns his attention to the mirror on the table and concentrates. The magic begins to build as he formulates what he wishes it to do. And that is, to find the person Perrilin is concentrating on.

  “Is this going to work?” Reilin asks Jiron.

  “Shhh!” Jiron says irritably. “Don’t disturb him.”

  James lets the magic flow and it almost seems as if a thread of it attaches itself to Perrilin’s forehead. Of course it doesn’t actually do that, it just feels that way. Then all of a sudden, the image in the mirror coalesces and they see a large man gone to fat sitting on a bed in a room with two naked young women.

  “Is that him?” James asks.

  Perrilin opens his eyes and nods. “Yeah, that’s him,” he says.

  “I can see why he doesn’t get out much,” Reilin states. Jiron nods his head in agreement.

 

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