The star of Morcyth ms-5 Page 29

  “What was that?” Dave exclaims from where he and the others are beginning to make camp for the night.

  Off to the east thunder rolls as a fiery blast is seen reaching to the sky many miles away. “That had to be James,” Miko replies anxiously. “He must be in trouble.”

  A clatter of wood comes from the side of the camp where Fifer was bringing some back for the evening fire. “No resting tonight,” he says as glances around at all the faces. “He needs us.”

  Not one person gainsays him. The plans to make camp and continue in the morning are set aside as they begin to hustle down the road in the fading light.

  Jiron continues riding well into the night. Even though that blast most likely took out the mage and most of the others, he dares not stop. At one point James indicates he can ride and after a short stop to untie him and help him into the saddle, they continue down the road.

  “You okay?” he asks him once they’ve resumed riding.

  “Not great,” he replies. “Head still spins and doubt if I could do any magic for awhile, but other than that I think I’ll live.”

  “What did you do back at the camp?” Jiron asks.

  James glances at him and flashes him a grin. “Set a time bomb.”

  “A time bomb?” he asks, never having heard the expression before.

  “That’s right,” he replies. “Don’t ask me to explain, there are certain things I would rather not introduce to this world.”

  “Why?” he asks in confusion.

  “Let’s just say if the wrong people here come to know all that I do, it could lead to some very unpleasant things happening,” he explains. When Jiron turns to look at him, he gives his friend a serious look which says there’s no point in pursuing this any longer.

  “As you wish,” he finally says. They ride on in silence for awhile as Jiron’s mind mulls over what he just said. He wonders what more James is capable of.

  Another hour finds them coming to a river which exits from a break in the mountain and joins the road as it follows it down the side of the mountain to Madoc. James indicates they should pull off the road and make camp.

  Moving far enough through the trees so that anyone passing by will unlikely be able to see them, they stop and set about making camp. James is all but exhausted, still not having recovered fully from the fight with the creatures and the effects of whatever was in the vial. Jiron offers to watch while he sleeps and he’s in no position to deny him. He no sooner lays his head on his arm than he’s out.

  Awakening in the morning, he finds Jiron has managed to catch, clean and cook a small animal for their breakfast. “Hungry?” he asks from where he sits at the fire. Next to him is a pile of leaves with James’ portion lying upon it.

  “Man you know it,” he says as he gets to his feet and comes over. Shivering from the cold of the mountains, he readily moves closer to the fire. Jiron hands him the leaves with his food. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” Jiron replies. “Thought you might need it.”

  After taking a bite, he sits there a moment chewing before he asks, “Do you think it wise to have a fire? Won’t it attract anyone in the area?”

  Shrugging, he says, “You need it. Besides, that explosion had to have taken out most if not all the soldiers back there. Anyone else it might attract would probably be from Madoc.”

  “Perhaps,” he replies. Then the memory of those two creatures comes to mind and he’s not so sure. He sits there and contemplates them, what they were and so forth. That’s when he notices Jiron’s knife sheathes are empty. “They took your knives?” he asks.

  Nodding, Jiron says, “They took everything. After I killed the last of those creatures they showed up and took us to their camp. Thanks for those ice knives.”

  James looks at him questioningly, “Ice knives?”

  “Yeah,” he says. “After you passed out and the remaining creature crashed through the ice which had formed on the barrier, I saw two knives lying there on the ground. Thought you had made them.”

  Thinking back, he vaguely remembers something about that. “Don’t recall doing that, but maybe. My memory is sort of hazy from then.”

  “Understandable,” he says. “But irregardless, those ice knives did the trick. Where mine were ineffective, those worked perfectly.”

  James sits there chewing as he attempts to recall exactly what happened but the memories of that time are still a bit foggy. Perhaps they’ll come back later. He does remember what he realized about those creatures, that they were creatures of fire. It stands to reason then that ice knives would have more of an effect upon them.

  “You said those creatures weren’t entirely real,” Jiron says. “What did you mean by that?”

  “One of the theories about the universe is that there are many levels,” he explains. “According to that theory the plane of existence we live upon is simply one among many. Some hold to the belief that there are planes of existence where fire, air, earth and water rule. This one we live on would be considered a sort of centralized one where each of the four has an equal footing. Each one has an opposite, the creatures of fire for example are hurt most by forces made up of water or ice.”

  Jiron nods as he begins to understand, though is still having a hard time with the concepts.

  “Gods and those associated with them live on yet another plane, one more removed from that of the elements. I’ll not even get into the theory of alternate reality and the fourth dimension. Those even stymie many of the great thinkers of my world.” Great thinkers, right! More like a bunch of kids in some backroom role playing. He smiles at the thought. These were just the sort of discussions he, Dave and the others used to have on a regular basis.

  “How many planes are there?” Jiron asks.

  Shrugging, James says “Who knows? Now all this still may be only conjecture and not fact. It’s just that after seeing those two creatures earlier brought it to mind. We may never learn one way or another.” Of course Igor and Morcyth have to come from somewhere don’t they?

  James finishes the last of the roasted animal and gets up to go over to a stream where he takes several deep drinks. After that they put out the fire and remount to continue heading down the mountain.

  The next several hours find them coming to the foothills at the base of the mountains and after cresting one such hill can see the plains open up below them. Several miles further ahead, smoke rises from a town nestled in among the hills. The road they’re on continues toward it and then through it as it disappears into the horizon to the east. Another road runs along the base of the mountains moving north and south.

  “Think Kerrin and Gayle are there?” Jiron asks indicating the town ahead of them.

  “They had to pass through in any event,” replies James. “We’ll ask around when we get there and see if we can discover anything.”

  “Can you do that mirror thing?” he asks.

  “Possibly,” he replies. “I’ll worry about that when we get there, should we be unable to locate them.”

  Nodding, Jiron kicks his horse and they hurry along down the road.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  The town they come to is fairly large, the smell of smoke from many iron smelters permeates the air. “Looks like they do a fair amount of iron smelting here,” comments Jiron as they ride past several buildings doing just that.

  “It would seem so,” agrees James. Past the smelting complex they begin to enter the outskirts of the town itself. Several beggars line the streets with their hands out imploring the passersby to give them a coin. He feels sorry for them but has no coins with which to give, Kerrin and Gayle took all he and Jiron had. The horses they appropriated from the Empire’s camp didn’t have any on them when they checked earlier.

  “How are you going to find out if they’re still here?” Jiron asks.

  “I don’t know,” he replies as they continue riding casually through town. Ahead of him he spies the mouth of an alleyway and sitting against the corner o
f a building near the entrance is an open barrel. He moves his horse toward it and notices it is a barrel full of water, set there to catch the rain as it runs off the roof.

  Glancing around he doesn’t see anyone in the immediate vicinity so brings his horse to a stop and dismounts. To Jiron he says as he nods to the barrel of water, “I’ll use this. Keep an eye out for anyone coming.”

  “You got it,” he replies as he gets down and stands watch.

  Moving to the barrel, James releases the magic as he concentrates on Kerrin and Gayle. The surface of the water shimmers momentarily and then he sees them riding along a road. The string of horses they had behind them earlier is nowhere to be found. He expands the image but is unable to tell in which direction they’re riding.

  Letting the spell go, he then concentrates on the medallion bearing the Star of Morcyth. He wants to see if they got rid of it as well or if it still remains with them. The image shifts and becomes dark.

  “Someone’s coming,” Jiron says quietly.

  Canceling the spell, James gradually moves away from the barrel as the shopkeeper whose store they’re standing next to comes toward them with an empty bucket.

  “Here now,” he says when he sees them loitering there. “What are you two up to?”

  “Nothing, good sir,” James assures him. “Simply getting a little bit of water from your barrel.”

  “This isn’t for everyone,” the man says with a grimace. “You two just move along now.” He stands there with a stern expression on his face.

  “Let’s go,” James tells Jiron and they take their horses and begin walking away. He glances back after they’ve moved along a ways and sees the merchant filling his bucket from the barrel and then returns to his store.

  “What did you find out?” Jiron asks quietly.

  “They’re no longer in town,” he replies. “They no longer have our horses with them either.”

  “Think they got rid of them here?” he asks.

  “Would think so,” replies James. “I don’t think my medallion is with them either, though I couldn’t find out exactly before that merchant came along.”

  “If we find the horses, we may find your medallion,” suggests Jiron.

  “That’s what I was thinking too,” he replies. Pausing a moment, he then mounts and Jiron follows suit. They ride through town looking for the horses. He thought about doing his bubble seeker spell again but discards the idea. If one mage from the Empire was in the area, then another could be too. The last thing he wants right now is to attract the attention of the wrong sort of people. After all, he’s weakened magically speaking and Jiron has no weapons.

  Cruising through town, they come to the market square where numerous hawkers are making their pitch.

  “Last fruit of the season!” one merchant hollers who’s standing out in front of a stand with the saddest lot of fruit James has ever seen. He suddenly has a desire to taste one of the peaches from home one more time. Sighing, he moves on.

  “Come get the finest perfumes for your lady,” another says. “One of these will bring you closer to her heart.”

  “Illion’s best knives here,” one lad says. He stands on a box in front of a store, a long wicked looking knife held in each hand. “Knives for every occasion! Whether for the lady in the kitchen or the warrior on the battlefield, we have them all!”

  James glances over to Jiron and sees him longing to go over and examine the knives. If only they had the money they would stop and get him a couple. Then suddenly a memory surfaces, one from early on when he first came to this world.

  It was shortly after leaving Trendle that first time, two men were being robbed and he helped fight off the thief. “Well James, if you’re ever in Illion, you’re welcome to our hospitality,” one of the men had said. “We own and operate an iron mine and smelter. Maybe you’ve heard of us, Renlon’s Iron?”

  Turning to Jiron he says, “I may have an idea.” Stopping near a boy on the street he gets his attention and asks, “Could you tell me where I might find Renlon’s Iron?”

  The boy gazes at him a moment and then points off down to another main street which branches off the one they’re on. “Turn down there and you’ll find it at the edge of town,” he says.

  “Thanks,” replies James.

  Just as he’s about to leave, the boy asks, “Don’t I get something for telling you?”

  “I’m a bit short right now,” he says. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry yourself,” the boy says derisively. When Jiron makes to move in his direction the lad runs off into the crowd and is gone.

  “You didn’t have to scare him,” rebukes James.

  “I know,” replies Jiron as he turns to glance at James. When no further comment is forthcoming, they make their way to the intersection and turn into the lane the boy had indicated. At the edge of town when the street comes to an end, they find a large complex of smelters with smokestacks belching black smoke.

  A man is loitering around one of the buildings and James rides over to him. “Where might I find the owners of Renlon’s Iron?” he asks.

  Indicating a building near the center of the complex, he says, “Most of the time you can find them in there.”

  James gives him a nod and replies, “Thanks.” Leaving the man behind, they work their way through the complex until they come to the indicated building where James dismounts. “You stay here with the horses and I’ll see if they’re inside,” he tells Jiron.

  Nodding, Jiron remains on his horse as James enters through the front door.

  Inside he finds an office with several tables and many shelves lined with books. Behind one is the older gentleman from before. He looks up from where he was making notations on a piece of paper and sees him walk in. “Can I help you?” he asks. Then suddenly his face lights up as he recognizes him. Coming to his feet, he moves around the desk and asks, “James right?” Holding out his hand, he gives James a vigorous shake.

  “That’s right,” he replies. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to remember me.”

  “After what you did it would be hard to forget you. Here, take a seat,” he says as he gestures to one next to the desk. As James takes a seat he props himself on the edge of his desk. “So what brings you around these parts?”

  “Actually I was hoping you could help me with something,” he says.

  “If I can I will,” he assures him. “What do you need?”

  James explains to him in brief detail the robbery and subsequent chase leaving out the parts concerning the Empire and his magic. Once he’s done, he finishes by saying, “So you see, I believe they may have sold our horses somewhere here in Illion along with our other belongings. You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone who might deal in stolen goods do you?”

  Sitting back on the desk, he contemplates for a moment. Then the rear door opens and his son comes in. Stopping just inside the door when he sees his father talking with James, he breaks into a smile and comes forward. “So, you decided to take advantage of our hospitality after all?” he asks.

  “In a way,” James replies.

  Glancing to his son, his father fills him in on James’ plight. Father and son exchange glances for a moment and then the son says, “You might try Orlander.”

  “Orlander?” he asks. “Who is that and where can I find him?”

  Nodding, the father turns to James and says, “He’s a bad one, into all the less than honest dealings which go on around here. He runs a tavern on the other side of town. You can’t miss it, it looks shoddy and in ill repair.”

  “If your stuff is with him, you best just leave it be,” the son warns. “Those who cross him tend to end up dead.”

  “We’ll see,” says James. “I appreciate your help in this. Thank you.”

  “Isn’t there anything else we can do to help?” the father asks as James makes to leave. “We owe you a lot.”

  Pausing, James glances back to them and says, “Well…”

  He finds Jiron still on hi
s horse when he exits the office. The father and son come out with him to bid him goodbye. Walking up to his friend, he hands him a bundle wrapped in cloth.

  “What’s this?” Jiron asks as he takes the bundle. When James doesn’t say anything he unwraps it and finds a belt with two exceptionally fashioned knives. “Oh my!” he says as he pulls one from out of its sheath. Holding it up, he tests it for balance and sights down the blade as he checks for straightness. The craftsmanship is exceptional and the balance is the best he’s ever felt.

  “Where did you get these?” he asks, replacing the knife in its sheath.

  “A present from some friends of his,” the father replies. “For services rendered.”

  “Thank you,” he says. Removing his old belt which had held his now lost knives, he discards it and secures the new one around his waist. Once it’s secured tightly, he quickly draws both knives and in a blur of speed, they dance around him briefly before being returned to their sheathes. “Excellent,” he says glancing to the two men. “Absolutely excellent.”

  “They were made by a master weaponsmith some time ago,” the son explains. “They were to be a gift but the person died before we were able to give it to him.”

  “You may need them where you’re going,” the father states.

  “What?” he asks.

  “I’ll explain as we ride,” James says as he mounts. Turning to the father and son he says, “Thank you for all the help. It’s much appreciated.”

  “You’re welcome,” the father says.

  “Stop by again if you’re able,” the son says.

  “Will do,” replies James as he and Jiron turn their horses and begin making their way from the Renlon’s complex. After leaving it behind, he glances over to Jiron and pats a bulge in his shirt. “They also gave us some traveling money,” he says.

  “Oh?” asks Jiron hopefully.

  “Don’t be getting too excited, it’s only about a gold’s worth,” he explains.