The star of Morcyth ms-5 Read online

  An hour later, they come to a cluster of buildings, one being an inn and they decide to stop for the night. It being so late, the inn is all but deserted. Only two workers are cleaning up and getting the place ready for the morning customers.

  James and Illan enter and get rooms for everyone. After stabling their horses around back, they head up to their rooms and go straight to sleep. Dave shares James’ room again.

  “Why do we need to find this Ironhold anyway?” he asks as they get ready for bed.

  “There are many questions that have arisen since I’ve come here,” he explains. “and I need to find the answers.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  James opens his mouth to reply when he suddenly realizes he doesn’t have a good answer for that. He doesn’t know why, he just feels he needs to. Turning to Dave, he says, “If I do what I’m here to do, maybe we can go home.”

  “You haven’t really explained it all to me yet,” he says. “I’m your best friend and I think you should clue me in as to what is really going on.”

  “You’re right Dave, you are my best friend,” he says. He then gives him a general rundown as to what’s going on and the visits by Igor. He makes no mention of the Fire or anything about his experiments. When he’s done, Dave is satisfied and they drift off to sleep.

  Early the following morning, a commotion outside wakes them and Dave goes to the window overlooking the rear courtyard. A group of people are congregating near the rear of one of the other buildings. “Something’s going on,” he says.

  “We better go check it out,” James says as they begin getting their clothes on.

  Before they’re finished getting dressed, there’s a knock at their door.

  James hollers, “Come in,” and the door opens. Illan walks in and says, “Some girl was murdered last night.”

  “What?” asks Dave and James at the same time.

  “It was the younger daughter of the innkeeper,” he says. “She was torn up pretty bad. At first they thought it was an animal attack, she looked like she had been chewed on. But then they found bloody tracks from some man’s boot walking away from the scene.”

  “That’s terrible,” James says.

  “We better get out of here before anyone starts asking questions,” he says.

  Nodding, James gets his pack and stands up. “Yeah. Good idea.”

  As they leave the room they begin to hear yelling coming from downstairs and they rush down to find Qyrll encircled by an angry crowd. His hood has fallen back allowing all to see his extensive tattoos.

  “Monster!” one woman cries as she breaks down into tears.

  “He is not to blame for the death of the young girl!” Jiron shouts to be heard above the noise of the crowd.

  He and Qyrll have their backs to the wall as they face the angry people. They haven’t yet pulled their weapons out, but James can see he’s about ready to if they get much closer.

  One man draws his sword and says, “He killed my little Elenda!”

  “He was with me all night,” responds Jiron.

  James can see the situation beginning to blossom out of control. If he doesn’t do something, it’s going to escalate into a flat out riot and all these people are going to get hurt. Jiron and Qyrll could wade through them like a hot knife through butter.

  Summoning a little bit of magic to magnify his voice, he yells, “Enough!”

  His voice rolls over the crowd and Jiron looks to him in relief. As one, the onlookers turn to face him. Their anger is plain on their faces and he hasn’t long to diffuse this situation.

  “This man is not to blame for the death of your daughter,” he says to the innkeeper as he makes his way through the crowd to stand before them. “I have known him to be only a gentle man. Let not his visage frighten you. From where he comes from, these markings are a sign of manhood. His people are not bloodthirsty killers.” Well, they are but not in this way.

  “Before you kill an innocent man, make sure of the facts!” he hollers to them. “You say that whoever killed your daughter walked away through blood?”

  Several heads in the audience nod in agreement.

  Turning to Qyrll, he says, “Remove your boots.”

  While he’s removing his boots James turns his attention to the crowd and says, “If he did in fact walk through blood, then there should be some indication on his boots that he did.” He’s thankful to see a couple people nod their heads at his logic.

  “Here,” Qyrll says as he hands him his boots.

  James examines them and with profound relief finds them completely devoid of any blood. He didn’t know what he would do if there had been any on them. Holding the boots toward the crowd, he says, “See. There is no blood!” He moves them first one way and then another as everyone in the crowd presses forward to see.

  Unconvinced, the innkeeper says, “He could’ve cleaned them off!” Several, people grunt their agreement.

  Despite the fact that some of the crowd are unconvinced, he begins to notice the overall mood has changed from one of mob violence to restless curiosity. He has to keep this going or that innkeeper will stir them up again.

  Pulling an idea from a crime drama on television, he says, “Let’s go and compare this boot with the one which walked away from the scene, to see if he could even have made the tracks.”

  “Alright,” the innkeeper says. “But if they’re the same, he dies.”

  James isn’t too worried about that, this Parvati is larger than most and it’s unlikely his boot is going to match that of the killer’s. Unless of course he really is the killer. There is a kernel of doubt in his mind, he remembers the deaths back in Cardri that seemed to have occurred around the time they were all there. He knew Parvati’s were not murderers. Killers, yes, but not murderers.

  Leading the crowd out to the scene of the crime, he carries the boots. Qyrll and Jiron follow along behind him.

  “The tracks are over here,” one person says.

  James follows him and they come to three very clear imprints in the dirt. Bending down near the clearest of the three, he says, “Now, let’s see.” Putting the boot on the ground next to the print, he lines up the heel of Qyrll’s boot with that of the bloody imprint. Once aligned, he looks up to the crowd.

  A murmur begins running through the onlookers as they see the toe of Qyrll’s boot extends two inches past that of the imprint. One says, “He couldn’t have been the one.”

  The innkeeper’s anger toward Qyrll dissipates quickly. Looking to the Parvati, he grudgingly says, “Sorry.”

  Qyrll makes no reply as he puts his boots back on.

  “But who killed my daughter?” he wails as his wife comes over and embraces him, her sobs adding to his own.

  “I don’t know,” James replies, “and we’re all sorry for your loss.” To Fifer, he whispers, “Get the horses ready to leave.”

  “Right,” he whispers back and takes Miko with him to get it done.

  Many of the onlookers come to the grieving family and offer words of sorrow and encouragement. James glances to Jiron and Qyrll and nods to the stables. As they leave the crowd behind, he says, “Let’s get out of here quickly before something else happens.”

  With Dave walking beside him, he and the others make their way to the stables. Those who had left their things in their rooms hurry back to the inn to retrieve them. Before too much longer, they are all in the saddle and making their way down the road.

  “That was quick thinking,” Illan tells him after riding several minutes in silence. “I never would’ve thought of that.”

  “Where I come from, solving crimes and stories of the same nature are very popular,” he tells him. “Frankly, if his boot had matched the bloody footprint, I don’t think bloodshed could’ve been avoided.”

  “I’m glad you were able to avert a conflict,” Qyrll says. “Killing people such as those would bring little honor.”

  They ride on for several hours, a few travelers share the road with t
hem, but otherwise it’s empty. A caravan passes them coming from the north and James asks them how far the next town is.

  One guard pauses long enough to say, “The next town lies a full day’s ride to the north.”

  “What’s it called?” he asks.

  The guard replies, “Willimet.”

  “Willimet?” James asks. When the guard nods yes, he begins seething inside. He hasn’t forgotten what happened to him the last time he passed through there.

  Miko remembers as well and comes to ride next to him. “What are you going to do?” he asks.

  Turning to him, he says, “Going to go and talk with her.”

  Serenna, that was her name. The fortune teller who had run him out of town. The one who is telling everyone he is possessed by a demon. He intends to get her to stop!

  Chapter Fifteen

  The rest of the afternoon, James rides in silence, his mind only on what he will do at Willimet. Miko on the other hand is more than happy to tell the story in its entirety to the rest of the group. When he gets to the part about how they learned the following day the way she had distorted the truth, several of them chuckle which only darkens James’ mood further.

  To make matters worse, during the late afternoon while they are still several hours away from Willimet, they encounter a man.

  They first see him approaching down the road and don’t pay him very much attention. He’s a bit scraggly and when he draws close, can see a wild look in his eye.

  Stopping right in front of them, he raises his hands and asks, “Where are you bound to on this fine day?”

  Bringing his horse to a stop so as not to run over the man, James replies, “To Willimet.”

  The man’s face lights up, “To see the great Serenna? Truly she is sent by the gods to guide us in these dark days.”

  At that, the entire company comes to a stop and gathers around to hear this man. “Sent by the gods?” scoffs James. “I don’t think so.”

  The man immediately grows indignant and cries out, “Scoff not the wise Serenna. Only her wisdom can deliver us from the demon which walks the lands.”

  “Demon?” Illan asks him. He casts a quick glance to James and can see the anger seething behind his eyes.

  “Yes my friends,” he says. “A demon disguised as a man. Evil are his works and through Serenna, the gods work to counter his most malign plans.” He gazes into their faces, eyes wild with a crazed look to them. “You will see for yourself,” he says. Beginning to mumble to himself, he suddenly walks forward and James has to back his horse quickly out of the way to keep the man from walking into it.

  He sits there a moment and watches as the man continues down the road. “Great!” he exclaims. “What in the world is she saying about me now?”

  “Looks like it’s getting pretty serious,” Illan says. “I’ve seen religious zealots before, and that man certainly acted like one. We better be careful while we’re there.”

  “What is she doing?” asks Fifer. “Creating a new religion?”

  “We’ll find out shortly,” he says.

  “Wonder how come word of this hadn’t reached us before?” Jiron asks.

  Shrugging, James says, “Who knows? Maybe she’s just recently stepped up what she’s telling people. Or maybe she’s come to believe it as well.”

  “What are you going to do?” Miko asks as they resume their way north.

  “I don’t know,” he replies. “But I can’t just let this whole thing fester and rot. Who knows where it might lead?” Or where it already has?

  They continue on down the road and it’s well after dark when the lights from Willimet appear ahead of them. Off to the east of town, a large pavilion has been erected in which numerous people are congregating. Many fires dot the area around the pavilion where those not within can keep warm.

  “What’s that?” Dave asks as they ride closer to town. “Looks like a revival meeting from back home.”

  “It does, doesn’t it,” agrees James. “It’s probably where she’s preaching.”

  Suddenly a great cheer and cry can be heard coming from the pavilion. “Wonder what she’s telling them now?” he hears Miko say behind him.

  “Probably that I’m going to eat their souls or something,” he says.

  Jiron chuckles, “Maybe.”

  James turns his horse toward the pavilion, intending to go see what’s going on but Illan stops him. “I don’t think it would be such a good idea for you to go over there right now.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “If you’re recognized as the person of whom she’s talking about, they’ll try to tear you apart,” he says. “Or you’ll be forced to kill them.” He pauses a moment as James digests that. Then he asks, “Do you want a bloodbath?”

  “No,” he replies.

  “Alright then,” Illan says. “Let’s find an inn and the rest of us will find out what’s going on and let you know while you stay out of sight in your room.”

  James definitely doesn’t like the sound of the plan, but can see the wisdom in it. “Very well,” he says. Turning his horse back to the road, he leads them toward Willimet.

  The first thing he notices upon reaching the outskirts of town are the many lean-tos and makeshift dwellings which have sprung up since he was here last. When they reach the outer edge of the main buildings of town, the number of makeshift dwellings decline rapidly until they disappear altogether.

  The few citizens still on the street hurry along as if they’re afraid to be out after dark. “There’s a definite uneasy feeling here,” observes Jiron.

  “I know,” agrees Fifer. Watching one fellow hurrying along, he sees him continuously darting nervous glances this way and that. When he notices Fifer looking at him, he stops in his tracks, then darts quickly down a side alley.

  “Wonder what has them all spooked?” Dave asks.

  “The answer is probably in that pavilion sitting outside of town,” replies James. “From the look of that one guy we ran into earlier, it isn’t surprising the townsfolk have grown wary.”

  They come to an inn and James has everyone wait by the horses while he and Illan go inside to see about getting some rooms. He dismounts and with Illan right behind him, goes through the front door.

  As he enters, a man behind the counter turns with a start, his eyes wide. When he sees them entering, his demeanor subtly relaxes and he asks, “Travelers?”

  James nods and says, “Yes we are. Just passing through on our way north.”

  At that, the man completely relaxes. Illan asks, “What has everyone around here so afraid?”

  The man’s eyes dart around for a moment, as if he’s looking to see if anyone is listening. Waving for them to come closer, he says in a soft voice, “It’s the woman out in the big tent in the center of the pavilion outside of town. She and her followers have everyone on edge.”

  “Why?” James asks. “What’s going on?”

  “Before summer, she had been a simple fortune teller who gave bad advice,” he says. “Everyone knew she was a fake but as she was very nice, we didn’t say anything. One day that all changed.”

  James glances to Illan as the man continues.

  “As the story goes, and let me tell you it’s different depending on who tells it to you, a man came to her and asked for a reading. He was a stranger in town so didn’t realize she was a fake. What happens next no one is sure about, but the next morning her crystal ball is shattered and she has this streak of white hair where the day before it had been black.”

  “She begins telling this story about how some demon showed up and tried to take his soul but that she fought him away. Now those of us who knew her didn’t believe it for an instance. I mean really? What a wild tale. But as time went on, she continued telling it and some came to believe in it. I think even after awhile she did too.”

  “Up until about a month ago things were fine. She had her little following and most of us were rather amused by the whole thing. Oh sure, for a lark we wou
ld at times go and listen to her but none took her serious. Most of us still don’t.”

  “What changed?” James asks.

  “Things started happening,” the man says. “People who went to hear her talk all of a sudden became ardent believers. Those who became believers would entice travelers passing through to go and listen to her. Then they too, became believers. Before we knew it, she had amassed hundreds of people and one day that large pavilion and the big tent sprung up.”

  “Interesting,” Illan comments.

  “This city is falling apart rapidly,” he tells them. “People are afraid to be on the streets for fear of being ‘asked’ to attend one of her talks.”

  “Why should that be a problem?” James asks.

  “If you refuse, sometimes they go away, sometimes not,” he replies. “One man refused and a pack of her believers fell on him and beat him to a pulp right here in the center of town.”

  “Didn’t the guard try to stop them?” Illan asks.

  “Some were in the vicinity, but word has it they’ve been bought off by someone, maybe her. Now they patrol the streets but do nothing to stop her people if they get violent.” Leaning closer and lowering his voice even more, he says, “I’ve even heard that some who spend too much time within the tent go mad.”

  “Really?” prompts Illan.

  “Really!” he says. “A friend of mine became a believer and spent a week straight within her tent, listening to her talk. When he came out, he wasn’t himself and all he could talk about was her and her mission to thwart the demon that walks the land.”

  James glances to Illan who nods. They both remember how that man who they encountered on the road here had acted.

  “Anyway,” he says. “Stay here in the inn, maybe in your rooms and don’t go out until dawn. Her people are most active at night though can be encountered anytime.”

  “Thanks for the information,” James says.

  “Do you still plan on staying?” the man asks.

  Nodding, James says, “We have to.”

  “It’ll be three coppers per room,” the man says. “How many will you require?”