As he waited for other slaves and prisoners to be gathered, Tinok noticed an insignia on the man’s armor. Three dots with lines running between them yet not touching them. Later he was to come to know that the insignia marked the man as one of the dreaded warrior priest’s of Dmon-Li. Terrible fighters who wield the power of their god with terrible strength.
He, Esix, and fourteen others were loaded onto two wagons and taken west. Before the end of the first day, a wall of fog appeared from out of the distance ahead of them. It grew larger the nearer they came to it and it didn’t take Tinok long to realize the fog was to be their destination.
The other slaves in the wagon with him grew nervous and fearful when they came to the realization as had Tinok that they were heading for the fog. He heard one of them call the fog the Mists of Sorrow, and from others he learned that it held a fell reputation.
Tinok watched the fog grow ever closer. Then all of a sudden it was all around them. One minute it was over a hundred yards away, and the next it was encompassing them. A man sitting next to him began having hysterics and was struck on the back of the head. Knocked out, the man’s screams and pleas were silenced as he fell against Tinok who was on the verge or losing it himself. Not wanting to be struck like the man next to him had been, Tinok kept a tight reign on the fear fighting to take control.
The fog now surrounding them dampened all sound. Even that of their horses’ hooves upon the ground was barely heard. Cold and clammy, it felt like it was trying to suck the warmth from you. It didn’t take long before the cold seeped its way to his very core. Teeth chattering, he wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm. The others in the wagon with him did the same.
He’s not sure when it happened, but at one point the shadow of some beast passed through the mist not too far away. It was the size of a horse yet ran along the ground like a dog. There for a moment before disappearing back into the fog.
“What was that?” Esix asked him.
“I don’t know,” he replied. Glancing to the warrior priest leading them, he’s at least somewhat comforted by the knowledge that their captor isn’t reacting to the beast’s presence. Which meant there was no immediate threat from it. “Could be something like a watchdog,” he guessed.
“Maybe,” agreed Esix.
If it was a guard dog of some kind, the possibility of escape from wherever they are going began to seem unlikely. Tinok kept scanning the fog surrounding them while they continued to roll through and saw the beast several more times. At least he hoped it was the same beast. One they may be able to deal with should they get away. More than that and it’s a fool’s hope of ever getting out of here.
They rolled on through the night without more than minimal breaks to feed and water the horses. Tinok dozed on and off until he and the others in the wagons were taken out to answer the call of nature. None strayed too far from the wagons, the thought of facing what is out there kept them from even thinking of trying to escape. Once done, they were reloaded back onto the wagons and they resumed their progress through the fog.
Through the night and most of the next morning they were taken further into the fog. Finally, a dark shadow began to form ahead of them in the fog until they drew close enough and discovered the dark shadow was in actuality a large stone building.
How large the building may be couldn’t be seen due to the denseness of the fog. A large black wall was all they saw before it disappeared into the fog. Made of massive stone blocks, it looked very strong and impregnable. To the surprise of Tinok and the others, the warrior priest led them directly to the imposing stone wall.
The warrior priest stopped and dismounted when he reached the wall. Coming forward, he stopped and stood motionless before the black wall. With neither movement nor speech, he stood there like a statue until a grinding noise came from within the wall. Suddenly, a section began receding backward into the wall and then slid to the side. It revealed an opening wide enough for a wagon to pass comfortably and tall enough for a mounted rider.
Returning to his horse, the warrior priest mounted then began leading them into the dark edifice. One man in the wagon behind Tinok’s began screaming incoherently and tried to break free from his bonds. Yanking at the chain connecting his manacles to the eye ring in the bed of the wagon, he tugged at it furiously.
One of the riders escorting the wagons rode to the side of the wagon and struck the man on the back of the head with a club. The impact knocked him into the bed of the wagon and stilled his cries. Tinok continued glancing to the wagon but didn’t see the man get up. Fearing he may be dead, he looked to the other prisoners. Fear was in the eyes of every man in the wagon.
“What is this place?” Esix asked.
Tinok just shook his head.
Then their wagon rolled into the opening. If they thought it was cold out in the mist, within the opening it was absolutely frigid. Dark and cold, the tunnel extended into blackness. As they moved further away from the opening, the light from outside began to fade. When the last rider was within the tunnel, Tinok again heard the grinding noise of the block returning to its place within the wall. The light completely faded away as it moved once more into position.
They rode in complete darkness for several minutes, the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and the creaking of the wagon wheels were the only sound. Then the wagons came to a halt and a light appeared to dispel the darkness. Not a bright light, just enough to be able to see that they were in a large room.
The warrior priest dismounts and disappeared into one of the archways leading from the room. Tinok and the others remained seated in the wagon, unsure what to do or what their fate may be.
All of a sudden, a small creature appeared in the air before Tinok. It’s scaly, somewhat man-like form was bent over as if from carrying too much weight. Red eyes aglow with an inner light stared from its gnarled head at Tinok as it hovered there before him.
Tinok returned its gaze as others in the wagon began taking note of the creature. Several men made the sign to ward off evil which had little effect. Reaching up his hand to touch it he almost grabbed the creature before it vanished, and then it reappeared before another man at the other end of the wagon.
More of the creatures began popping in and staring at the men in the wagons. Then from the archway the warrior priest exited through, footsteps could be heard. A moment later, the warrior priest appeared and with a gesture to the guards that had accompanied them, he had them begin unloading the prisoners.
Their chains were unlocked from the wagon’s eye rings, then were taken out of the wagons and lined up on the cold stone. The iciness of the floor sent shivers up into Tinok. Once all the men were gathered, they were made to follow the warrior priest. Moving through the archway, he led them through another dark tunnel.
The same faint light which was present in the room behind them seemed to follow their progress. The light was rather unnerving as there was no discernable source for it. It just was. Dozens of the creatures that had appeared before them in the wagons now began popping in and out. They took a look for a short time then disappeared.
At the end of the tunnel, they came to a room with four pens used to hold men and were divided among them. Tinok and Esix were put together in the same one. All this time, neither the warrior priest nor the guards accompanying him have spoken a word.
Once all the men were within the pens, the warrior priest gave them a final once over before he left. The guards followed him out and soon Tinok and the others are left alone in the pens.
How long ago that was, Tinok is no longer sure. The small creatures have been a constant menace as they continue popping in and out. Food is brought to them by hooded men, who despite their attempts to engage in conversation, remain quiet. Both Tinok and Esix have tried to get a good look within the hoods but there isn’t sufficient light with which to see.
Thinking back on his life, he now regrets his decision to leave Jiron and the others. Fate has led him awry it se
ems. How he wishes to be able to see the face of his friend one last time before the end. For he feels that his end is approaching.
Chapter Twenty Nine
At the rendezvous near the western edge of town, they find Miko and Brother Willim with the horses. The others have yet to make it back from the Wallowing Swine. “They haven’t returned yet?” asks James.
Shaking his head, Brother Willim says, “Not yet.”
“Damn!” curses Jiron. “We don’t have time to stand here and wait for them.”
“I know,” agrees Miko. When James looks to him he adds, “We heard the explosions.”
“I think everyone in town heard them,” comments Brother Willim.
“So what do we do?” Jiron asks James.
“We wait,” he replies. “That’s all we can do.”
Brother Willim asks Jiron, “Did you find out what you came here for?”
Nodding, Jiron says, “Buka said that he was taken to some place called Ith-Zirul. Ever heard of it?”
Brother Willim’s face blanches slightly at the name. Nodding his head, a grim expression comes over him. “If that is where your friend has been taken, then all hope is lost,” he says.
“Why?” Jiron asks.
“That’s what Buka said too,” says James at the same time. “What does it mean?”
Taking a deep breath, Brother Willim explains. “Ith-Zirul is the High Temple of Dmon-Li.”
“Dmon-Li!” exclaims James.
“It is said none other than those who worship Dmon-Li ever leave Ith-Zirul,” he says. “And if your friend is indeed within the walls of that cursed place, it would explain some things.”
“Such as?” asks Jiron. The hope that he experienced when he first heard of the location of his friend is slowly dying the more he learns of where he is.
“For one thing, it would explain why you can’t use magic to find him,” he explains. “The temple would be warded against such things. Also, you said the image was fuzzy when you saw him. That no matter how much magic you used, it never became better.”
“That’s right,” states James.
“You see,” Brother Willim says, “the High Temple of Dmon-Li is hidden within the Mists of Sorrow.”
James nods his head as more connections are made. “During our journey to find Miko when he was captured by the Empire,” he begins, “we passed by a wall of fog that one of our number said was the Mists of Sorrow.” Turning to Jiron he asks, “Remember?”
Nodding, Jiron says, “Yes, I remember.”
“When Delia and I went to examine it in the morning, it was so close to our camp that we saw a shadow pass through its fringe. At the time I didn’t know what it was, and frankly hadn’t thought about it until now. It was one of those hell hounds that have been set against us on several occasions.”
“You mean the Mists is guarded by those things?” Jiron asks.
“It would seem so,” he says.
“The Mists is just the first hurdle,” Brother Willim says. “After that there is trying to find the entrance. From what my brethren have been able to gather over the centuries, the temple is massive. We could be in the Mist for a long time before ever coming to the door. All the while, you can rest assured they will be throwing everything they have at us.”
“And should we make it through the Mists and enter the temple,” James says, “we still have to find Tinok.” To Brother Willim he asks, “Will my magic be able to locate him once we’re within its walls?”
“I just don’t know,” he says. “It would depend on the type of wards they have in place.”
Then all of a sudden their attention is drawn to rapidly approaching footsteps coming from further into town. From the sound of it there must be more than a couple people coming toward them.
Jiron places a hand on the hilt of one of his knives and moves toward the sound while the others remain quietly with the horses. As whoever is approaching draws closer, he can hear one of them asks, “Where the heck are they?”
He relaxes when he realizes the voice belongs to Scar. “Over here!” he calls out softly. The footsteps come to a stop and he can now see their silhouettes in the moonlight. Moving toward them, he again says, “Over here.” Then to James he hollers, “It’s them.”
“Jiron?” asks Reilin.
“Yeah,” he says, “and it’s about time you guys showed up.”
As they move to join him, Potbelly says, “We had a few people follow us out of the tavern. Took us a bit to shake them.”
“Is he alright?” Jiron asks.
“He’s fine and everyone is accounted for,” Stig assures him.
From out of the darkness appears the blonde haired Kir with a grin. “I wasn’t sure if we were going to pull it off for awhile,” Perrilin says. The front of his outfit and most of his right sleeve is coated in blood.
As Jiron leads them back to where James and the others are waiting with the horses, he says, “For a minute I thought we had actually cut off your hand. You’re quite convincing.”
“Thank you,” he says with a slight bow. “I’ve had plenty of practice faking my own death.” Then they arrive where the others are waiting and he looks to James as he adds, “But that thing with the pig’s bladder and intestine was pure genius.”
James gives him a smile and says, “Saw it on a show once about movie magic. Of course they used other material, but we made do with what was available to us.”
After they had left the slaver compound and rejoined the others, they went to an inn and dropped off the horses as well as everyone but James, Jiron and Reilin. They then asked around and found out where Kir was staying. He was quite surprised when they showed up at his door.
When told of the task Buka had set for them, that is to take his right hand, he decided that Kir had outlived his usefulness. Then together they worked out a plan that would enable them to fool Buka and allow Perrilin to make good his escape. After all, those who knew Perrilin the bard was masquerading as Kir, would hear about him losing his hand in front of the crowd at the Wallowing Swine. That alone will allow him to create a new identity without immediate suspicion.
So the following morning, they went to a local butcher shop and purchased a medium sized pig’s bladder, three feet of intestine, and a lot of pig’s blood. They sewed the end of the intestine to the bladder and filled the bladder with the blood.
Next was a visit to a communal grave where they throw dead slaves. Seems a single grave is too much work for just a single slave. So they dig a pit and when it becomes filled with dead slaves, they fill it back in. Needless to say, the pit is usually far outside of town due to the odor. But Perrilin knew that any place with a slaver compound would have one and they soon located it. The rest was easy.
During the break when they agreed he would be attacked, in the back of the kitchen, Perrilin placed the pig bladder under his left arm and strung the intestine under his shirt all the way to his right hand. Then a hand and portion of the forearm of a dead slave were extended from the end of his right sleeve.
When he was grabbed and Jiron cut the hand from the forearm, he squeezed the pig’s bladder and the pig’s blood sprayed out the end of the section of intestine. All in all it looked like his ‘stump’ was spraying blood. Then it was a simple matter for Reilin and the others to get him out of there, hide the evidence, and rejoin James.
“What will they do when they come looking for you?” asks Stig. “After all, some of the people there really cared about you.”
“They’ll find me gone,” he replies. “I’m sure they’ll hunt through the temples and when they still can’t find me, the rumors will start.”
They mount their horses and head out into the night away from town. As they leave the buildings behind them, James fills the others in on what they learned from Buka and the ramifications that go along with it. “So, we have less than ten days remaining,” James summarizes. “We know where he is. All that’s left is to go get him.”
“Oh, that�
�s all?” asks Aleya mockingly. “You can’t be thinking about breaking into this temple. It’s madness!”
“Now, it won’t be that bad,” Jiron tells her.
She turns a withering glare upon him and is about to launch into how stupid the plan is when Miko says in a calm but sure voice, “We must.” Her glare now turns to him. Cutting her off yet again, he says, “No matter what the cost, we must try to stop what is going to happen. Even if it means all of us die in the attempt.”
James brings them to a halt and turns to Miko. “What do you mean we have to ‘stop what is going to happen’?”
“Just what I said,” he replies. “This goes far beyond Tinok, Cassie, even you James.”
“You’ll have to explain that to me,” Scar says.
“Something’s been gnawing at me ever since you told us your last vision when you learned it was Cassie in your dreams,” he explains. “And it finally, as you say, clicked together. I don’t believe the dream was given to you for Tinok’s benefit. Rather, it was a way to get you to go to that temple in the middle of the Mists.”
Turning to Brother Willim he says, “Your dreams of late have ended with the sundering of a black, mist shrouded tree. From which a creature issues forth and destroys the garden. Am I right in saying the garden represents the world?”
Brother Willim nods his head. “I have always thought so.”
“A black tree shrouded in mist and now a black temple residing within a blanket of mist.” Glancing from between Brother Willim and James he concludes, “It’s too much of a coincidence with everything that’s been happening.”
Nodding, Brother Willim says, “I agree. I came to that conclusion a short time ago.”
“Therefore, something is going to happen within the High Temple of Dmon-Li when the moon turns black. Whatever it is, should it be successful, will destroy the world.”
They grow silent as each ponders what he just said. “Could it be possible?” Aleya asks. Gone is her stern glare to Jiron. Now a more thoughtful, perhaps even fearful expression has taken its place.
The mists of sorrow ms-7 Page 38