Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li: The Morcyth Saga Book Three

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Warrior Priest of Dmon-Li: The Morcyth Saga Book Three Page 21

by Brian S. Pratt


  The two groups pause momentarily, both sides stunned to see the other there in the road before them. Then the Parvatis give a war cry as they draw their swords and rush to attack.

  Miko turns his horse and is about to gallop away when Jiron suddenly kicks his horse and rushes to meet the charging warriors.

  James readies a stone to throw and is about to when he notices that Jiron hasn’t drawn his knives. But instead is holding aloft the necklace with the three stones, the one the Parvatis back in Korazan had given him for defeating one of them in battle.

  As he approaches the Parvatis, they suddenly come to a stop as they realize just what he is holding. Their demeanor changes quickly from one of antagonism to one of astonishment.

  James and Miko come up behind Jiron as they hear him say, “May your swords drink deeply.”

  One of the Parvatis, an older one, gives him a smile and replies, “May your knives drink deeply.” His expression subtly changes when he sees James and Miko ride up behind him.

  “They’re my friends,” Jiron says to the Parvati who nods in response.

  “Welcome, then,” the Parvati says to them all. “My name is Qyith, Warleader of the Eller Tribe,” he says.

  Jiron replies, “My name is Jiron, and these are my friends, James and Miko.” They each give the Parvatis a slight bow from the backs of their horses.

  “How is it that you came to possess mounts of the Grey Wolf Clan?” he asks.

  “They attacked us,” Jiron explains. “We killed them all and took their horses.”

  The Warleader breaks into a grin as he says, “Truly, you are a formidable warrior.” He translates for his fellows who nod approvingly. Turning back to Jiron, he says, “We have no love of the Grey Wolf’s, they’ve been a blight upon us for generations.”

  “You must come to my village,” he says to them. “We should feast and hear of the exploits of such a Shynti.”

  “Shynti?” asks Jiron.

  “Ah, that means a friend of the Parvatis,” he explains. “Any who bear the three stones is called such.”

  “We don’t have time, I’m afraid,” he tells them. “We are pursued and must make all speed north.”

  Qyith waves away the comment and says, “Not to worry, none shall harm you while you remain with us.” He says something to his men and one runs down the road to the south while the others turn around and begin running north. When he sees Jiron looking questioningly at him, he explains, “They’re going to spread the word a Shynti is here.”

  James looks at the departing warriors worriedly, but takes Qyith at his word.

  “Come,” he says. “Our village lies not far from here and tonight you may rest in safety. Tomorrow, you may go upon your way, should you wish.” He then turns and begins moving northward.

  Jiron glances back to James who shrugs and then nods as he begins moving his horse to follow the Warleader. Qyith leads them down the road until it comes to a fork and turns to follow the right hand fork that runs due east.

  They follow him for a couple hours before coming to the outskirts of his village. It’s a large collection of huts nestled in a small valley in the mountains. James sees many young Parvatis running around, playing at one game or another and the Parvati women can be seen in and around the various huts.

  When they’re noticed arriving, the young ones come over to them and gather around to see the Shynti. Word must have already been brought here. “Do many Shynti come?” asks James as all three dismount.

  Qyith shakes his head as he replies, “It’s been a generation at least since anyone has been named such.” He then faces the assembled members of his tribe and begins speaking in their tongue.

  James can hear their names being told to the Parvatis gathered there as he tells the people about them. On the way to the village, they told him about the Gathering and their escape. They also told him about the fight back at Korazan. All this, he relates to his people.

  When he’s done, Jiron is looked to with awe and many of the children come close to touch him, to see if he’s truly a real person. He endures their attention until Qyith shoos them away. “I ask your pardon,” he says to Jiron. “They’re just excited to meet an actual Shynti.”

  “I understand,” he replies.

  “Let me show you around our village and where you’ll be staying while you’re with us,” he says. Not waiting for a reply, he leads them into his village and begins to describe some of the things he thinks they’ll be interested in.

  Jiron interrupts him and says, “I noticed none of the women have tattoos like the men do.”

  He pauses and turns back to them. “Tattoos are only for the men, once they’ve attained manhood,” he explains. “Each of our young boys goes through a series of tests that bring him from childhood into manhood. If they survive, then they are given the honor of bearing the mark of the warrior,” he says as he gestures to the tattoos covering himself.

  “Ah, I see,” Jiron says.

  They come to a hut where Qyith abruptly halts at the entrance. “You may use this hut while you are here,” he tells them. “If you’d like, you may roam freely about the village. The feast will be later this evening when the others arrive.”

  “Others?” asks Jiron.

  “Yes,” he says. “A Shynti here is a rare thing. Many will wish to come and see you to pay honor.”

  “I see,” he says, not altogether happy about all the attention.

  “I must leave you now and ensure all is properly prepared for this evening,” he tells them. Turning around, he begins moving away from them, back the way they’d come.

  “Think we’ll be okay?” Jiron asks James.

  “I would think so,” he replies. “You seem to be some kind of celebrity.”

  “Celebrity?” he asks.

  “Someone famous and well liked,” he explains.

  “I suppose,” he says.

  They tie their horses to a post near the entrance and then go inside. There are four beds with an open stove in the center to allow for heat and cooking. Rugs and mats cover the floor giving the place a comfortable feel to it.

  Miko stretches out on one of the beds and says, “This is nothing like Inius’.”

  Jiron looks questioningly to James who says, “Inius ran an inn we stayed in that had the softest beds.”

  Sitting down on the firm beds, he says, “I see.”

  Still, for all their stiffness, they’re still better than the ground. James lies down and turns his head toward Miko and says, “Better not take the Fire out here, we don’t want anyone to see it.”

  Miko sighs and says, “I’ve already decided to leave it in the pouch.” He leans on one elbow and looks at James as he continues, “It makes me feel weird.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “It’s hard to explain, but I feel like it wants to suck me into it,” he replies. “That’s not exactly the feeling, I’m not sure how to describe it. But if I keep it in the pouch, then I don’t feel anything at all.”

  “Then it may be a wise thing to leave it alone,” Jiron says from where he’s lying on his bed.

  “I agree,” adds James. He’s relieved to be able to just lie down and rest. It seems lately, he’s been going from place to place, events propelling him along. He would really like to just stay in one place for a while and relax.

  Coming suddenly awake, James realizes he had fallen asleep and that it’s now almost dark. Sitting up, he looks over to find Jiron and Miko are no longer within the hut. Getting up, he goes over and opens the door.

  Outside, the village is lit with dozens of fires and hundreds of torches. Parvatis are everywhere, their numbers having swelled dramatically over the last few hours.

  “James!” he hears Miko cry out to him but is unable to find him in the mass of people. Suddenly he appears out of the crowd, coming toward him, waving his arms. Several of the Parvati young boys are with him as well. “About time you woke up,” he said when he draws close.

 
Miko is wearing some of the Parvati attire and another of the boys is wearing his shirt. Apparently, he’s been making friends with the locals. “Where’s Jiron?’ he asks.

  “Over there,” he says as he gestures to the middle of the village. “He’s talking with many of the Chiefs and Warchiefs that have come from neighboring villages. Come on, I’ll take you there.”

  James follows him as he leads him over to where a dense concentration of Parvati warriors have congregated. “…and then we raced for the pass, leaving the Gathering behind us,” he hears Jiron say to the assembled warriors.

  He waves to James when he sees him approaching and the Parvati move aside, allowing him to come forward to stand next to him. “This is my friend James,” he tells them as he reaches his side.

  The gathered warriors begin talking among themselves when his words are translated for them.

  “When we got to the pass,” he continues in his narration, “James here brings the sides of the pass down and completely blocks it with rubble, keeping the Grey Wolf Clan from catching us.”

  At that, the assembled warriors break into a cheer. “They don’t much care for the Grey Wolf Clan,” Jiron tells him.

  “Yeah,” replies James, “I kind of gathered that.”

  Next to Jiron is seated a wizened, old Parvati, heavily tattooed. “This is the Chief of the Eller Tribe,” he says to James.

  James gives the man a bow and the chief gives him a slight nod of his head in return. “Welcome to our village, friend of Shynti,” the chief says to him.

  “Thank you, Chief of the Eller Tribe,” James replies.

  The chief says, “It’s been long since a Shynti has earned the right to walk among us. We are honored.” The warriors give a murmur of assent. He gets up from the ground, all the other Parvatis there rise as well. Motioning for them to follow him, he moves toward where the women have set up the feast.

  “When you leave tomorrow, we’ll send an escort with you so you will have no trouble as you pass through our land,” he tells them.

  “You are very generous,” Jiron replies.

  He waves away the comment, leaning toward Jiron, he continues, “Many have asked to accompany you, actually. This way, it makes it seem an honor to them as well.” He gives Jiron a brief smile then resumes walking toward the feast area.

  The feast area is a large cleared area, with dozens of large mats on the ground. Several fires burn in pits throughout the area to give light and warmth, already it’s getting cold. The chief leads them to a large mat at one end, and the other warriors along with the women and children, settle upon the others.

  James looks out to a veritable sea of faces as he gazes over the Parvatis come to honor Jiron.

  They sit there for several minutes as the last of the Parvatis come and take their seat. Then the chief stands up and begins talking to them. Though they can’t understand what he’s telling his people, the response from the crowd is positive, with several cheers erupting during the telling.

  When the chief is done, he sits back down which signals for the feast to begin. Women and older children begin bringing food to the assembled people. The fare is plentiful and James is happy to see vegetables mixed in with all the meat. The chief looks at him as he loads his plate with just vegetables and James tells him, “I’ve had nothing but meat for days. These remind me of home.”

  The chief gives him a grin and nods his head.

  The veggies are good, not to the standard of his grandmother, but still good. Midway through the meal, the open space in front of the chief’s mat is the scene of acts of skill. Wrestling, fighting, and swordsmanship are all displayed to the Shynti.

  “They’re really quite good,” Jiron tells James. “Better than any from the pits, but don’t tell Scar and Potbelly I said that.”

  James smiles and shakes his head, “My lips are sealed.” Then he notices a stir of commotion coming from the far side of the feasting area. A runner dodges around those on the mats as he makes his way to the chief’s mat.

  When he stops in front of his chief, he begins talking quickly and animatedly. James watches the reaction of those hearing him, and at first there is silence, then there is annoyance, then anger. Some begin standing up and shouting.

  The chief stands up and hollers to them, bringing quiet to the feasting area. He shouts out a series of orders and warriors jump to their feet as they quickly run out of the area.

  “What’s going on?” asks James.

  The chief turns to him and says, “The Grey Wolf Clan has dared to pass our borders and now are moving here. At least two other clans are with them.”

  James knows why they’re here, and he glances to Miko and Jiron. The looks on their faces show they understand as well.

  “What are you planning to do?” Jiron asks him.

  “Tell them to leave, or make them,” he says with determination.

  “Will they?” asks Miko.

  The chief glances at him and with an evil grin says, “I hope not. But we will not be the first to shed blood this night, if they leave. If not, WAR!”

  He gestures for a young Parvati, a lad of around Miko’s age to come over, “Jobi here will take you along the road north. If war comes here, you should not be.”

  Jiron holds out his hand and says, “Thank you, you and your people. True friends you all have been and glad am I to bear the name of Shynti.”

  The chief takes his hand and gives him a brief nod. After giving the lad some instructions, he turns and begins calling his warriors to him as he moves to meet the Grey Wolf Clan.

  The lad says, “We must hurry.” He leads them back to their hut where their horses are still tied. Mounting, they turn to follow the lad who goes over to where several other lads are mounted and waiting. A couple of the boys call out greeting to Miko, obviously they’ve met earlier. He mounts the remaining horse, and then they move to the rear of the village.

  The lads take an almost hidden path through the trees as they lead them away from the village. They ride single file as they follow the path among the trees and around the sides of the mountains.

  After a couple hours, the path takes them near a small lake nestled in among the trees. Winding their way around it, they come out upon the road and quicken their pace as they turn north. They don’t travel far before a band of a hundred Parvati warriors passes them as they run south. “They’re gathering the warriors in case of war,” Jobi tells them.

  “Think there will be?” James asks him.

  “Probably, there is little love between my people and the Grey Wolf Clan,” he tells them.

  The road suddenly branches and Jobi takes the road to the west which crosses a river coming from a larger lake to their right. Shortly after they leave the lake behind them, another band of warriors, well over two hundred strong, pass them heading south.

  James almost feels sorry for the Grey Wolf Clan if they should fight the Parvatis. Almost. They continue down the road, making as best time they can in the moonlight. An hour after the warriors had passed them, a smaller road branches off to the right, but Jobi continues leading them north along the main road. The other boys with them trail along behind, perhaps acting as guards.

  The sky to the east is beginning to lighten with the coming of the dawn. As they continue down the road, the mountains begin to smooth off into rolling hills again. By the time the sun can be seen in the sky, they’ve completely passed out of the mountains and are among the foothills.

  Jobi brings them to a stop and says, “This is where we must leave you.”

  “Thank you for bringing us through your lands safely,” Jiron says.

  “It was our pleasure,” he replies. “To the north is the keep which guards the borders of the Empire and the Kirken Federation. It’s to the east of the main road, so stay on it and you should be fine.”

  “Kirken Federation?” asks James.

  “Several kingdoms to the east have banded together to keep the Empire from conquering them,” he explains. �
�Alone, they could never have halted the Empire, but together, they’re very formidable. Hostilities have broken out between the Federation and the Empire recently, but if you stay to the main road, you should be able to stay clear of it.”

  “Thank you again,” James tells him.

  “You’re welcome,” Jobi replies.

  “May your swords drink deep,” Jiron says.

  “May your knives drink deep,” replies Jobi as he turns his horse as he and the other Parvatis gallop back the way they’d come.

  “Think this Kirken Federation would help us out?” Jiron asks.

  “The enemy of our enemy isn’t always our friend,” James replies. “We’d better stay clear of them as well.”

  “Alright,” says Jiron. “Let’s move, we’re getting closer to the northern boundary of the Empire.”

  “I know,” replies James. “I’m a little surprised to have made it this far.”

  “Me too,” adds Miko.

  They break into a gallop as they head down the road to the north.

  Chapter Sixteen

  _________________________

  As the road continues northward, it stays among the hills for several miles before beginning to ease back into the grasslands. From up ahead, they see a group of riders coming toward them.

  Miko begins to turn off the road, but James stops him. “They’ve already seen us,” he tells him. “If we run, they’ll chase us just to find out why.”

  He then turns to Jiron and says, “If we just ride like we belong, maybe they’ll go right past.”

  “Either way, they’re going to be here in a few minutes,” Jiron replies.

  “Just continue on and stay calm,” James says.

  Miko moves closer to James, with Jiron just a few feet in front of them.

  As the riders near, they can tell they are part of the Empire’s cavalry. James watches them approach, his heart beating rapidly and then they ride right on past. The riders give them a once over as they go by, but fail to stop.

  Once they’ve disappeared to the south, they all breathe a sigh of relief. “Why didn’t they stop us?” Miko asks. When James turns to look at him, he continues, “I mean, we don’t look like we belong here.”

 

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