The Star of Morcyth: The Morcyth Saga Book Five (13 page)

To Dave he asks, “Just what happened?”

Shrugging, he looks up from where he’s
sitting on the bed and replies, “I don’t know. They just came and
took him.” Dave’s command of the language has greatly improved over
the last week or so. Being completely immersed in it has helped.
Though still not understanding every word and nuance, he’s a quick
learner.

“What are we to do?” Miko asks.

“You two stay here and I’ll try to find out
what’s going on,” he says.

“Okay,” replies Miko. Dave just nods his
head.

Leaving the room, he heads downstairs and
finds Miss Gilena in the common room wearing her night dress and a
robe. She’s standing near one of the windows looking out upon the
street and turns when she hears him coming.

“They took James,” he tells her.

“I know, poor boy,” she replies sadly.

“Do you know what’s going on?” he asks.

Shaking her head, she says, “No. One of my
servants woke me up when the guards appeared. They didn’t say much
other than they were here to take him to the castle for
questioning.”

Illan looks out the window and sees guards
and soldiers moving up and down the street. “I’m going to find out
what’s going on,” he says as he moves for the front door.”

“Be careful,” she says.

“Not to worry,” he says, pausing at the
door. Pulling it open, he steps out into the street and begins
moving toward the gates to the castle area. If there’s any place
he’ll be able to find out what happened, it would be there.

He doesn’t get more than half a block away
from the inn before a man wearing the uniform of the city guard
sees him and moves to intercept. “There’s a curfew in effect,” the
guard says as he comes close. “You’ll have to return to your
home.”

“But why?” Illan asks. “What happened?”

“Someone’s assassinated the adjutant to the
Empire’s Ambassador,” he explains. “His body was found outside the
walls of the city in the poor section. The adjutant had been
decapitated.”

Gasping, Illan’s mind begins to whir and
things are beginning to click into place. “Do they know who did
it?” he asks the guard.

Shaking his head, he replies, “If they do
they haven’t told us about it yet.” Motioning back the way Illan
had come, he says, “Curfews in effect until morning, so get off the
street.”

“Very well,” he says as he turns around and
heads back to the Silver Bells.

As he comes through the front door, Miss
Gilena gives him a worried expression and he says, “There’s a
curfew and they won’t let anyone on the street until morning.”

“Did you find out what this is all about?”
she asks, coming over to him.

“They said someone from the Empire’s
Ambassador’s party has been killed,” he tells her.

“Surely they don’t suspect poor James do
they?” she asks, concern etching the features of her face.

“I don’t know,” he tells her. “I’m sure
we’ll know more in the morning.”

“I hope so,” she says as she goes back to
her place near the window.

Illan turns and heads for the stairs.
Returning to the room where the other two wait, he enters and
closes the door behind him. “We’ve got problems,” he tells
them.

“Like what?” Miko asks.

He briefly explains to them what he learned
and his suspicion that the powers that be will think James is the
one who killed the adjutant.

“Why would they think that?” Dave asks.

Looking at him like he’s an idiot, Illan
explains. “Just hours after James finds out the Empire wants him
extradited from Cardri for crimes he’s allegedly committed in their
land, one of the prominent members of their delegation is killed.
Think about it.”

Nodding, Dave says, “I think I
understand.”

“What can we do?” Miko asks him.

Sitting on one of the beds, Illan says,
“Nothing we can do until morning and the curfew is lifted. After
that, we’ll see what we can do.”

Miko moves to the window of the room and
looks out over the city to the silhouette of the castle in the
distance.
Hang in there James!

Holding still and quiet against the alley
wall, Jiron, Fifer and the Parvati wait while four members of the
city guard march past. Once they’ve moved further down the street
away from the opening of the alley, Fifer whispers to Jiron, “We’ve
got to get off the streets!”

“I know that,” he replies with
impatience.

Still on the outside of the outer wall,
they’ve been unable to get back into the city. The whole area is
swarming with guards and soldiers. It’s only been by a miracle that
they haven’t been discovered yet.

Staying just one step ahead of the patrols,
they slowly made their way further from the courtyard where the
dead body lies. The Parvati is wearing the hooded cloak that Jiron
had grabbed from the pavilion to better hide his features. A tall,
extensively tattooed man is hard to miss or forget.

Jiron pokes his head out into the street and
finds it devoid of guards at the moment. “Come on,” he whispers as
they follow him into the street and quickly move to the other side.
Staying against the buildings, they hurry down to where he sees
another alley entrance, past several more buildings.

Before they have a chance to reach it, light
from one of the searching patrols is seen approaching from a side
street. Realizing they are not going to have time to make it, he
moves to the door of the building next to them and tries to open
it.

Finding it locked, he throws his shoulder
into it and smashes the door open. The sound of it seems to
reverberate through the streets as they rush inside. Closing the
door rapidly, Fifer moves to a window and looks out to see if
anyone is coming to investigate.

“Anyone?” Jiron asks after a moment.

Shaking his head, Fifer says, “Doesn’t look
like it. The patrol which was coming into the street went down the
other way.”

“Good,” says Jiron.

The building they find themselves in looks
to be some kind of rug maker. Several looms are placed throughout
the room with partially completed rugs still attached to them.
Massive rolls of string and twine are lying upon shelves along most
of the walls.

From above them, they hear a floorboard
creak as if someone’s walking around. They freeze and listen
carefully as another creak sounds a few feet away from the first
one. Someone’s up there moving around.

Jiron motions for the other two to remain
still as he moves to the doorway leading further into the building.
The sound of the steps becomes more pronounced as whoever it is
begins descending a stairway on the other side of the door.

The Parvati and Fifer move to the side of
the room so as not to be readily noticed should the individual come
into the room. Jiron positions himself near the door.

The footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs
and they hear them coming toward the door to the room in which
they’re hiding. As the door begins opening, Jiron makes ready and
then as the person begins walking into the room, he grabs them from
behind.

A knife wielded by the man in Jiron’s
clutches strikes out at him and he’s forced to let go. Fifer and
the Parvati move away from the walls, their swords in hand. “We
don’t want to hurt you,” Jiron says to the man.

“What are you doing in my shop?” he asks
with fear in his voice as he comes to understand there are three of
them.

“We’re not thieves or murderers,” Jiron
tells him. “Drop the knife and I promise we won’t hurt you.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, his knife
falls to the floor. Just then, light from a passing search party
begins playing upon the window overlooking the street. Jiron nods
to Fifer who moves to the window and looks out.

The light gradually increases as the patrol
moves toward them along the street. Jiron has his knife against the
man’s throat to keep him from raising the alarm. When the patrol at
last moves past and the light begins to diminish, Fifer glances
back to Jiron and nods.

Removing his knife, he says, “My pardon good
sir.”

“You are the ones they’re after!” he says in
amazement.

“We don’t have time to talk, I’m afraid,”
Jiron says to him. Motioning him over to one of the looms, he says,
“Move over there please.”

“What are you going to do to me?” he asks,
as he does as Jiron commanded.

“Tie you up, nothing more,” he explains.
Fifer comes over to supply the gag to keep him quiet and they
proceed to tie him with the thread and twine from his own looms.
Once the man is secured and not likely to escape, Jiron leads them
through the house and to the rear door leading into the alley
behind.

A quick glance to make sure the alley is
empty and they’re through the door, slowly making their way to the
end of the alley. “Do you know where you’re going?” asks Fifer.

“Not really,” he says. “I just want to find
some place where we can hole up until James finds us.”

“How is he going to find us?” Fifer
asks.

Jiron just stares at him a moment before
Fifer says, “Oh yeah, right.”

The end of the alley opens upon a small area
enclosed by the backs of several buildings built against each
other. Several sleeping forms are huddled in and around the refuse
lying on the ground. Each wall has a doorway, all closed but
one.

Jiron steps carefully over a sleeping body
as he moves toward the open door. The opening is dark and nothing
can be seen on the other side, not even shadows. Moving carefully,
he enters through the door with the others following. A knife held
in one hand for comfort, he moves deeper into the building.

His right shoulder bumps a wall and when he
reaches out with his other hand, encounters another wall on the
left. It’s not a room but a corridor extending further into the
building.

Moving deeper into the building, the sound
of the searchers roaming the streets outside begins to diminish.
Jiron keeps his right hand against the wall as they walk to hunt
for doors. After passing ten feet or so into the building, his hand
encounters one.

“Just a second,” he whispers to the others
behind him as he moves his hand along the door in search of the
handle. “I think there’s a door here.” Upon finding the handle, he
turns it and pushes the door open slowly.

The door’s hinges protest loudly as he
swings it open enough to allow them to enter. Darkness greets him
on the other side as he tries to see beyond the door. “Might be a
room where we can hole up for awhile,” he tells them.

“Doubt if they’ll find us here,” Fifer says
as he follows him through the doorway. Once the Parvati is in, he
closes the door to the protestations of the hinges. “Anybody have a
light?” Fifer asks.

Nearby in the dark, sparks begin to be seen
from where flint is striking and soon, the soft light of a candle
blossoms to light. The Parvati stands there, the candle in hand as
he looks to his new found companions.

“Good,” Jiron says approvingly. The room
they find themselves in is dirty and looks as if beggars or other
street people have at one time or another called it home. Dirty
blankets are strewn around and one corner of the room reeks from
where it has been used as a latrine. Rats scurry away from the
light.

“What a disgusting room,” says Fifer in
dismay.

“Disgusting it may be, but at least we’re
not out there,” he says, indicating the streets where the patrols
are still searching for them. “Now,” he says as he turns his
attention back to the Parvati, “just what’s your name and why did
you have to go and kill that man?”

Setting the candle down on a broken crate
that looks to be currently used as a table, he says, “I am Qyrll. I
am truly sorry for having brought trouble upon you, but I could not
bear the insult which he ascribed to me. Far too long have I
endured such by him, honor bound to take the abuse without
reprisals. I thank you for my freedom.”

“You’re welcome,” replies Jiron. “I just
wish we could have done it without raising the whole city against
us.”

“I can see why you are called Shynti,” Qyrll
says. “You are truly a great warrior.”

“Thanks,” he replies.

“Could you tell me of my homeland?” he says.
“It’s been many years since I left.”

“Seems we have the time,” Jiron says as he
makes himself comfortable amidst the refuse. “It was your brother
whom we first encountered after we…” For several hours Jiron
relates his experiences in the Parvati homeland to Qyrll and Fifer
as well as learning about this new companion of theirs.

“Hear that train a comin’, it’s rolling
round the bend, I ain’t seen sunshine since I don’t know when,”
James’s voice echoes in the room with the holding cells. For the
past hour he’s entertained himself with various songs of his world,
the last being an old Johnny Cash song which seemed appropriate for
the occasion.

The songs from home have given him comfort,
though he’s not too concerned about his own safety. He’s grown in
his ability as a mage and feels confident to take care of himself
should that become necessary. As long as the powers that be don’t
try to hurt or drug him, he’ll go along peacefully. The last thing
he wants is to antagonize another kingdom against him.

When he gets to the part about shooting a
man in Reno, he hears the approach of footsteps coming down the
stairs. Bringing the song to a close, he watches the stairwell as a
man in the livery of Cardri comes in bearing half a dozen torches,
one of which is lit.

The man’s eyes widen as he takes in the
glowing orb sitting next to James on the bench. He moves along the
wall and starts placing the torches in the sconces spaced around
the room. After placing a torch into a sconce, he lights it with
the one he’s carrying before moving to the next.

“What are you doing?” James asks.