Fires Of Prophecy Part 26

"I'm not letting you into my home!" she says sternly as she starts to close the door.

James kicks out with his foot, causing the door to swing open and accidentally knocks the little old lady to the floor where she begins calling for help.

Coming in quickly, they shut the door and James says, "Gag her and tie her up so she'll be quiet."

Roland stuffs her mouth with a rag lying on a nearby table and then proceeds to tie her hands behind her back. "Sorry ma'am," he tells her, feeling bad about doing this to an old woman.

Hearing a creak, James turns to see a younger woman standing on the stairs to the second floor. She has a crossbow armed and aimed directly at him. "Release my mother," she commands.

James concentrates on the crossbow and the wire snaps, rendering it useless. "Come here," he says to her, motioning for her to come down into the room.

"How did you do that?" she asks, fear in her eyes.

"A little trick I picked up," he tells her. "Now, come here!" he says sternly.

When she hesitates, he says, "We have your mother, don't make this difficult. I only want my friends back."

As she comes into the room, fear in her eyes, she asks, "What are you going to do with us?"

"That depends on how helpful you are," he tells her. Seeing that Roland has the mother secured, he indicates the daughter and says, "Sit her down by her mother."

Nodding his head, Roland comes over to where she's standing and takes hold of her arm and brings her over, sitting her down on the floor near her mother.

"Now, where are my friends?" James asks her.

Defeated, she says, "Downstairs in the bas.e.m.e.nt." She indicates a door under the stairs she had been standing on earlier.

He crosses the room and opens the door. He's greeted by the smell of alcohol coming from below. Glancing over to Roland he says, "Keep an eye on them." When he sees Roland's nod, his glowing orb appears in his hand and he descends the stairs.

Upon reaching the bottom, he finds them lying there in the middle of the bas.e.m.e.nt floor, tied up and helpless. "Well, well, what have we here?" he asks as he makes his way over to them.

"Glad to see you," Jiron says.

Scar asks, "Man, how did you find us?"

James takes out his knife and cuts through the rope as he frees Jiron. "Take care of the others, I'll be upstairs," he tells him and moves to return up the stairs.

Over on a side table are their weapons, Jiron goes over and retrieves his knives before beginning to cut through Scar's bonds.

When he leaves the stairwell and rejoins Roland with the ladies he asks, "Now, just what were you going to do with them?"

"Sell their weapons and them to slavers," she admits.

"Done this before?" he asks.

"Couple of times," she admits, ashamed. "You don't know what it's like to be a woman alone here, without a man," she cries. "If we didn't, my mother and I would lose everything and have to live on the streets."

"No excuse," he says to her. He turns as he hears footsteps coming up from the bas.e.m.e.nt. Still inebriated, the guys are quite a sight as they stagger along. He smiles and shakes his head.

"What to do with you two," he muses as he turns back to the women.

"Are you going to kill us?" the younger woman asks, fear in her voice.

"Should I?" he asks. "Or can we leave without anyone but us knowing what transpired here?"

"We won't tell anyone!" she cries out. "We swear!" Her mother nods her head in agreement.

"Alright," he tells her. "But if we hear about this from anyone else, I'll be back. Understood?"

"Yes!" she cries, relief evident upon her face.

Turning to Roland, he says, "Let's go." He unties the younger woman and then helps the stumbling drunks out of the house. Being the last to leave, he gives the daughter one final, meaningful look and then closes the door.

With Roland's help, he gets them moving in the right direction as they work their way through town. They finally meander their way back to camp where the drunks collapse and pa.s.s out.

"Everything go okay?" Delia asks when they arrive.

"We're here aren't we?" he asks her.

"What happened?" she asks.

Too tired to want to talk, he just says, "Tell you in the morning." Lying down, he's soon fast asleep.

The boozehounds all have incredible hangovers from the night before and not too surprisingly, most don't remember being tied up in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Jiron and Scar remember it somewhat, but mainly it's all just a blur.

Smelling far worse than normal, James has them all go to the river, clothes and all and at least make an attempt to get the stink out.

While they're gone to the river, he and the others work to get the caravan ready for travel before they return.

"You going to tell them what happened last night?" Roland asks James as they secure a team of horses in their traces.

Grinning, he says, "If I do, I'll probably make up a bunch of stuff."

Roland breaks out laughing and then they finish securing the horses to the wagon. Everything is set to go by the time they see them coming back toward the wagons, drenched and cold. With the heat of the day already beginning to rise, it won't take long before it dries them out.

Sitting atop his horse, James watches and waits while they return and mount their horses. This day, Jiron is to drive the wagon while James gets to ride point. James is wearing his floppy hat that he bought back at Korazan to keep the sun off.

When everyone is ready, he takes the lead and soon they're back on the road following the river south. After riding for several hours, an odd fog bank appears off to the east, several miles away. "Do you see that?" he asks Jiron when he pauses to allow the wagon to catch up with him.

Shielding his eyes against the glare, he replies, "Yeah, so?"

"I've never heard of there being fog in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the day," he says. "Certainly not during summer, the heat should've burnt it off long ago."

When Roland catches up to them, James asks him about it.

"I think it's called the 'Mists of Sorrow'," he explains.

"Why do they call it that?" Jiron asks.

"Don't know," he replies. "I just heard someone pa.s.sing through mention it once."

By this time the whole caravan has stopped to see what's going on. They all stare at the fog in the distance.

"What is it?" asks Shorty.

"We're not sure," Roland explains. "It might be the 'Mists of Sorrow'."

"Oh," he says.

"We're not getting anywhere by standing here gawking," James says to everyone who's gathered around him. They get back on their horses and wagons as he resumes riding to the south.

Throughout the rest of the day, the fog bank remains a permanent fixture on the horizon, they all can't help but keep glancing at it from time to time. James notices how the traffic is all but nonexistent on this road. The few travelers they do encounter tend to be nonsocial, giving only short responses to greetings if they give any at all.

When the sun rides low in the sky, they stop for the night next to the river. Before the sun goes down, James looks to the east and can still see the fog bank sitting there, miles away.

The next morning, he's shocked to discover the wall of fog had moved during the night. Now it's no more than a half mile from the road. It easily extends fifty feet high and is so dense, you can't see anything within it.

"Wow," says Delia when she wakes up and joins him where he's gazing at it. "Creepy."

"You said it," he agrees.

"Should we go check it out?" she asks.

Shaking his head, he says, "No, it makes me feel uneasy. Might be a good idea if we stayed away from it."

Then suddenly, they see a shadow pa.s.s through it along the fringe, the density of the fog keeping them from getting a clear view of it. It was half the size of a horse and was running like a dog.

They look at each other and she asks, "What was that?"

"I don't know," he replies, "but I think we need to be moving."

Waking everyone quickly, they set a new record in getting the caravan ready and moving down the road. With uneasy eyes on the fogbank, they make haste down the road. For the first couple miles the fog stays fairly close but then begins to recede again until it is once again several miles off in the distance. By the end of the day, they're unable to see it any more, much to the relief of everyone.

Next morning, James looks to the east and is happy to still see no trace of the fog at all. After rolling down the road for two hours, they come to another town. A large congregation of people can be seen out in front of a two story building set a little ways into town.

As they come closer, they notice that the people are upset about something and are talking agitatedly among themselves. "Go see what's going on," James says to Roland.

Roland gives him a nod, climbs down off the wagon, and then walks over to the crowd of people. The others wait for him on the road.

James sees him moving through the crowd, talking to several different people until he finally begins to make his way back. "Well?" he asks as Roland returns.

"You're not going to believe this," he says. "Last night the garrison Sub-Commander was murdered."

"So?" Jiron asks.

"He was murdered by a northerner," he says, "and there were witnesses. Also, drawn in blood on his forehead, was a heart with two dots." He turns to Jiron and says, "Sound familiar?"

"Ca.s.sie's necklace?" Jiron replies. "It was a heart with two stones."

"You mean Tinok did this?" Delia asks, not really believing it.

He turns to her, "It would appear so, but we have no real evidence, though the description of the murderer matches him fairly good."

"What is he doing?" Jiron wonders, angry. "That fool's going to get himself killed." He turns to James, "He's close, maybe we could find him and help him?"

"Let's get a ways out of town and then I'll look and see what I can discover," he tells him.

Jiron nods his head and they follow the road as it pa.s.ses through town. Once the town has disappeared behind them, they pull off the road and James takes out his mirror to attempt to locate him.

Settling down on the ground, he gazes into the mirror, concentrating on Tinok and then lets the magic flow. Tinok begins to appear in the mirror, he's riding his horse fast across the desert.

"Where is he?" Jiron asks.

"I don't know," James says, "somewhere to the east, I think. The sun is too high for me to be able to tell for sure by the shadows."

"How far away is he?" demands Jiron.

"I can't tell that," explains James.

"d.a.m.n him!" Jiron curses in frustration. He turns and stares out into the desert to the east, hoping beyond hope to be able to see him. "So close!"

Delia comes to him and says, "But he doesn't want us to find him."

"Why do you say that?" he shouts at her in anger. "Why wouldn't he want to be with his friends?"

"I don't know," she replies, gently. "But if he did, he would be here."

"He knows where we're going," Yorn tells him. "He can find us if he wants to."

Potbelly comes over and says, "Sometimes, a man's just got to work things out on his own. And a hurt like he's had could take a long time, if ever."

Jiron continues gazing out to the desert and then his head droops as he turns to walk back to his horse. "Let's go," he says to them despondently.

Chapter Eighteen.

That evening when they stop for the night, James takes the watch in the middle of the night. He likes that one cause it's quiet and peaceful, giving him time to think about things. When he's on watch, he usually goes over the magic he's done and tries to figure out how to make it better, such as the bubble seeker spell he used in locating Jiron the other night.

This evening, he's trying to come up with spells that will be effective against another mage. His last two trials hadn't gone all that well, the first one at the City of Light almost killed him and ended up devastating a wide area. He needs to devise spells that will be effective against a mage, yet not destroy everything in the surrounding area. He might be in a town with innocent people the next time.

Maybe a series of spells, small spells that build on each other to breach the mage's defenses. Two things that all mages need to do magic are concentration and power. You disturb either one of those and his ability to do magic disappears.