“Where did they take them?” Brother Willim asks.
“One of our men followed them when they left and will report back when he knows,” the innkeeper states. He glances from one to the other then says, “So far, the Empire remains unaware of this inn’s involvement in certain activities. It would be beneficial for all concerned if they continue to remain ignorant of that fact.”
“Don’t worry,” Jiron assures him. “Your secret is safe with us.”
Suddenly, the door to the right of the hallway opens and the man who had been here when they arrived enters the room. He glances to Jiron and the others and then looks questioningly to the innkeeper.
“It’s alright,” he says in the northern tongue. “They’re Kir’s friends.”
Nodding, the man says, “They’ve been taken to the Keep.”
“Can you take us there?” Jiron asks as he comes to his feet.
“Yes,” the man says, “but it is heavily guarded.”
“You would stand little chance of getting in there,” the innkeeper states. “It’s very well fortified.”
“We’ll see about that,” he says.
“Is there anything we can do to help?” asks the innkeeper.
Jiron glances to Aleya then nods, “Yes, there is one thing.” He tells him of his need and the innkeeper tells them that he will be able to accommodate the request. They wait there for a few minutes while the other man is sent to get it.
When he returns, he hands Aleya a beautifully worked bow and a quiver of arrows. She takes it and looks in awe at the workmanship that had gone into it. Intricate designs run its length and when she strings it, the pull is strong. “This is a good bow,” she says.
“It was one of several made by a friend of mine who is a master woodworker,” the innkeeper says. “I trust you find it acceptable?”
“Oh yes,” she says with a nod. “It’s far superior to anything I’ve ever seen.”
“Then it’s yours,” he tells her.
“Thank you,” she says with a grin.
“Now,” Jiron says. “Take us to the Keep.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” the innkeeper says. “We are fairly certain there are still agents watching the inn.”
“So?” Miko asks.
“Depending on how long they’ve been watching your group,” he tells them, “they may recognize you when you leave.”
“That could prove problematical,” Brother Willim states.
“What do you suggest?” asks Aleya.
Chapter Thirty One
Malki had been placed to watch the front of the inn since he and others had come to take those people away. Though he wasn’t told why they were taken, he knew they had to have been wanted by people in high places. Especially if you consider who it was that put the whole operation together. Whenever you see his face, you know that whatever is going on concerns the highest levels of the Empire.
He and the others who are staking out the inn are looking for a couple other people, and should they appear, they’re to take them too.
The front door of the inn opens and he turns his attention to those coming through. Two people emerge, a couple by the looks of it. The man is leaning heavily upon the woman who is working to keep her man upright. Malki grins at the way the drunken man tries to negotiate his way down the few steps to the street.
Cursing at her man, the woman loses her hold on him as he stumbles down the remaining two steps and crashes to the street. Giving him a swift kick to the side in anger, she drags him back to his feet and together they work their way down the street.
Behind the couple comes another pair, two men this time. One has a stiff leg that looks as if it’s unable to bend it at the knee. He limps and shuffles alongside the other. Upon making it down to the street, both men turn and go the opposite way that the woman and her man had gone.
Not the people he’s interested in, Malki remains in the shadows and keeps a watch upon the door.
Once Miko is sure the inn is out of sight behind them, he takes Brother Willim down a side street. Moving into the shadows, he helps Brother Willim remove his staff that had been hidden beneath his tunic. It had been secreted within his trouser leg, which gave him the appearance of having a stiff leg. Having walked so far pretending that his right leg was stiff has made his left one ache.
“Is anyone following?” Brother Willim asks as he finally gets the staff free of his clothing.
Miko stares back down the street for a second then shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I really didn’t think it was going to work,” he admits.
“Let’s go to the rendezvous and pray that Jiron and Aleya made it there safely.” Miko then takes the lead. With the pack wherein lies the Book of Morcyth slung securely across his back, they hurry to the appointed place.
It isn’t far and when they arrive they find Jiron and Aleya already there. Another minute and the man who is going to lead them to the Keep appears.
“Let’s go,” Jiron says to the man. He’s a little put out that the man has yet to offer him his name. But like James always says, ‘What you don’t know can’t be tortured out of you’.
Taking numerous side streets they work their way across town to the Keep, only taking the main thoroughfares when they have no other choice. When the Keep finally comes into view, he takes them to a spot down a block from the main entrance. Standing in the lee of the building where the shadows are the thickest, they have a commanding view of the gate.
The gate stands in a curtain wall which surrounds the inner keep. Outside the gate stand six soldiers, three of which have crossbows. Atop the curtain wall, additional soldiers are seen walking to and fro as they keep watch. Beyond the curtain wall, the Keep itself rises high.
“Beneath the Keep is an extensive dungeon where prisoners are taken and interrogated,” the man tells them. “That’s where you’ll find them.”
“How do we get in?” Miko asks.
“That’s up to you,” the man says. “I managed to arrange for a diversion. It’s not much but should draw the attention of the guards on the walls for several minutes.”
“When will it begin?” Jiron asks.
“Once you figure out what you are going to do to get in,” he says, “I’ll go and get it started.” He points off to an area of town back the way they came. “When it happens, it will come from that direction.”
Jiron nods. Indicating the curtain wall on the opposite side from where the distraction will take place, he says, “So our best bet would be to try something in that direction.”
The man nods in agreement.
Turning his attention to Aleya, Miko and Brother Willim he says, “You three stay here.” Then to the man he adds, “You come with me. We’re going to take a look around.”
“Be careful,” warns Aleya.
“I will be,” he says. “Be right back.” With the man in tow, he stays next to the buildings across the street from the curtain wall and makes his way to the far side. Once he reaches where the curtain wall curves and begins moving directly away from the street, he comes to a stop.
Scanning the street he makes sure it’s clear, then turns his attention to the closest guard atop the wall. The guard is moving toward the corner of the wall where sits a guard tower. From the guard tower, the wall turns ninety degrees and moves directly away from the street. Another wide thoroughfare runs alongside the wall as it moves further away.
Jiron remains motionless as he watches the guard approaching the guard tower. When the guard comes to within three feet of the tower, he turns about and begins heading back the other way.
“Come on,” Jiron urges then races across the street with the man right behind.
Aleya watches Jiron make his way down the street then pause a moment before darting across. Her eyes move to the guard on the wall, and is relieved when he fails to react to Jiron’s crossing.
“Relax,” says Miko. “Jiron’s done this sort of thing many times from what
James tells me.”
Aleya doesn’t comment, simply nods her head as she continues to stare at the place where Jiron disappeared. She waits an agonizing fifteen minutes before he reappears. Darting across the street with the man right behind, he then works his way back to where she and the others wait.
When he rejoins them, he announces, “I think there may be a way to get in.”
“How?” she asks.
He looks her in the eye and says, “It’s going to depend on how good you are with the bow.”
“What do you want me to do?” She then listens as he lays out the gist of his plan to them. Nodding her head, she can see where her bow will play a pivotal role in what’s to come. When he’s finished laying it out, he asks, “Anyone see something I may have missed?”
Brother Willim shakes his head, “Not I. You seem to have it all worked out fairly well.”
Jiron turns to the man and says, “Go tell them we’re ready.”
The man nods his head and melts into the night on his way to begin getting the distraction underway.
After he leaves, Jiron turns to Brother Willim and hesitates a moment. Then he asks, “You know there’s a chance we’ll not get out of there without a fight?”
Brother Willim only nods in reply.
“I need to know I’ll be able to rely on you should the situation arise,” he says.
Gazing at him with sadness in his eyes, he says, “You know the priests of Asran are not allowed to hurt fellow human beings. That to do so will mean dire repercussions in this life and the next.”
“Brother, I understand that,” replies Jiron. “But you also know that if we don’t get James out of there and into Dmon-Li’s High Temple before the moon turns dark, it could well mean the end of everything. Your dreams, more than any of the others, tell us that.”
“I know,” he states.
“You once said that to keep a garden healthy, there comes a time when a gardener must prune to save the whole,” Jiron tells him. “This is the case as it stands now. You may need to prune to save the whole.” He can see the pain in the Brother’s eyes.
Miko comes and lays his hand on Brother Willim’s shoulder. “Asran will understand,” he assures him. “It’s for the greater good.”
Griping his staff in a grip so tight that almost causes him pain, Brother Willim nods. “I will do what I have to,” he says in a voice taut with pain. But the pain he is feeling is not that of the body, but of the soul. He has vowed to never take the life of an ordinary man. As the leader of the Hand of Asran, he had been trained to defeat those of power such as the warrior priests. Never had he believed that his skill would be used against those whom he vowed to protect. The fact that they may worship another besides Asran does not matter. Giving a silent prayer to Asran to forgive him for what he may be called to do, he gives Jiron a nod. “Let’s go.”
Jiron gives him a comforting pat on the back and then says, “Follow me.” Taking them along the front of the buildings across the street from the curtain wall, he brings them to a halt once they’ve reached the place where he crossed the street before. A street as wide as the one they are on runs along the wall as it turns and moves away from them.
He has them wait there until the guard atop the wall reaches the guard tower then turns back to go the other way. “Now!” he whispers as he bolts across with the others right behind.
Melding in with the shadows across the street from the wall, he takes them further down until he reaches a point where two of the guards walking upon the wall are visible at the same time.
Stopping, he indicates the guards on the wall. Then he shows them a statue of a warrior with an upraised sword that stands between them upon the edge of the wall. To Aleya he says, “That’s where I want you to put your arrow, between the upraised sword and the statue’s head. Can you do it?”
She gauges the distance and nods. “I believe so,” she replies.
“Can you do it with a rope tied to the arrow?” When she looks at him he raises his tunic to show her the rope secured about his waist.
“I…I don’t know,” she admits. “I’ve never shot an arrow with a rope tied to it before.” She then looks to his eyes and nods, “But I’ll give it a try.”
“Pick your best arrow,” he tells her as he begins uncoiling the rope from around his middle.
She removes the quiver of arrows from her back and begins going through them one by one. The third one she comes to is slightly thicker than the others and is very straight. Holding it up, she says, “This one.”
Jiron takes it and ties the end of the rope to it very, very tightly. When he’s sure it won’t come off in flight, he hands it back to her. “It’s going to drag some due to the tension of the rope,” he tells her.
“I understand,” she says. Holding the arrow, she feels how the rope alters its balance and increases its weight twofold.
“Ready?” Jiron asks.
Placing the arrow to string, she looks at him and nods, “Ready.”
“Take aim but don’t shoot right away,” he tells her. “When the two guards are both walking away from the statue at the same time, I’ll say ‘now’ and then let it go.”
“Okay,” she says. She looks up at the statue on the wall, raises her bow and pulls the string back. Holding it there, she gets her aim set and waits. Three seconds later, Jiron whispers ‘now’ and she lets go.
The arrow and rope sail through the air and cracks into the wall a good three feet below the feet of the statue. They freeze as they look to the guards to see if they heard the noise, but neither one of them even so much as glances back.
Jiron quickly pulls in the rope until it and the arrow are back with them. The head of the arrow is cracked from its impact with the stones of the wall. “We’ll try it again,” he says.
Aleya nods and begins searching through the quiver for another arrow. Feeling bad that she didn’t make it the first time, she vows to make it the second. Handing the next arrow to Jiron, she waits for him to secure the rope to it once more. Then once he’s handed it back to her, she again places it to string and takes aim at the statue.
“Now,” Jiron says and she again lets the arrow loose. And just as the first one, it impacts upon the wall in almost the same place as the first one had.
Jiron begins pulling in the rope when Miko places a hand on his shoulder. “Someone’s coming,” he hears him whisper in his ear. Dropping the rope, he looks where Miko is indicating and sees a guard turning the corner and begins walking down the street toward them. They move further back into the shadows and hold still.
Then his eyes go to the middle of the street where the end of the rope lies with the shattered arrow still attached to it. The way the guard is moving down the center of the street, he’s going to walk right over it.
“Jiron!” Miko whispers as he points to the arrow.
“I know,” he says. Never taking his eye off the approaching guard, he draws one of his knives.
Thirty feet from the arrow, the guard still fails to notice it. At twenty feet, one of the men atop the walls hails him and they wave to each other. At fifteen feet, he turns his attention back to street level as the guard atop the wall resumes walking his patrol. At ten feet the guard starts humming a tune as he continues along. At five feet, he’s still oblivious to the fact that an arrow tied to a rope lies across the street. Then his foot steps on it.
The guard stops and lifts his foot. Bending over, he looks to see what it was that he stepped on. Picking up the arrow, he looks at it for a second and then rope attached to it. He sees how the rope is tied to the end of the arrow and that it extends into the shadows on the other side of the street. Pulling on the rope, he looks more closely into the shadows. Then all of a sudden, one of the shadows breaks off and rushes him.
Before the man knows what hit him, Jiron attacks and silences him before he can sound the alarm. Then with Miko’s help, he drags the guard’s lifeless body back into the shadows before the guards on top of the w
all notice what happened.
Once he’s sure the guards on the wall failed to see them, he pulls in the rope. By this time Aleya has another arrow already selected. He again secures the rope to it and hands it back to her. “We don’t have much time,” he tells her. “We must be ready when whatever distraction they are planning goes into effect.” When she takes the arrow, he puts his hands on her shoulders and gives her a quick kiss. “I know you can do this.”
Nodding, she puts the arrow to string and sights on the space between the statues head and the upraised sword. She takes a deep calming breath to center herself as her father always taught her. He could do this, she thinks to herself. He could do anything with a bow.
And so can you.
It’s almost as if she can feel him there behind her as he always did when teaching her the bow. A hand on her waist, another to help steady the bow. The words he use to say when passing on his wisdom. Steady on girl, take your time. Patience, always patience, never rush it.
“Now!” she hears Jiron say. But she doesn’t release the arrow. Only when it’s time, Aly. Then it almost feels as if a hand raises her bow ever so slightly higher. “Now!” urges Jiron.
“Do you sense that?” Brother Willim asks Miko.
“Yes, I do,” he replies. “What is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Brother Willim says.
Now, Aly.
Releasing the bowstring, the arrow shoots forward. They hold their breath as they watch it arc through the air toward the statue. Then it sails perfectly between the head and sword.
“I did it father,” she says quietly to herself. And she can almost feel a pat on her back, the same as her father use to give her when she successfully learned what he was trying to teach.
“Yes!” says Jiron. When all the slack in the rope is gone, it yanks against the end he’s holding in his hand. Looking to the two guards, he sees they still have their backs turned. Rushing over to the wall, he begins pulling the slack back in until he feels the arrow catch in the crook of the statue between the neck and the upraised arm. Giving it a couple tugs, he ensures it’s not going to slip out.
The mists of sorrow ms-7 Page 42