Brian Pratt - The mists of sorrow

“If that’s your goal, I’m sure he’ll do what he can to aid you in your endeavor,” the young man tells him. He suddenly gets to his feet. “I have to go. I’ll come back sometime late tomorrow morning with word.”

James comes to his feet as well. “Would you like to see Aku before you go?” he asks. Gesturing to the room down the hall he says, “He’s asleep.”

Shaking his head, the young man says, “It would be best if I didn’t. You see he doesn’t know of me. I’ve been keeping an eye on him all his life but haven’t had contact with him.”

“Why?” he asks.

The slave grins and says, “Like you say, ‘It’s my business’.”

“As you wish,” concedes James.

The young man goes to the door and leaves without another word. James stares at the door and wonders if he did the right thing in trusting that information to a complete stranger. Only after the young man left does he realize that he doesn’t know for sure if the young man told the truth when he said he was Aku’s brother. Praying that he did the right thing, he turns in for the night.

The following morning when they all but Aleya and Aku gather in James’ room, he tells them of the visitor he had the night before. Their response was less than favorable.

“Are you out of your mind?” Scar asks.

“What were you thinking?” demands Jiron.

Raising his hands, he quiets their protests. “Calm down all of you,” he says. “If it was a mistake, the city guard would have already been here. Since they aren’t I can only assume that nothing will come of it from that quarter.”

“Do you think that this slave is going to help us enter the temple?” Stig asks. “Seems a rather untrustworthy individual to trust our lives to.”

“Right now we don’t know what may come of it,” he replies. Turning his gaze to Jiron he says, “I think we should continue with what we had planned. You take Reilin and Shorty to reconnoiter the place, see if there’s a way in.” He sees Jiron nods then adds to the others, “As far as Aku is concerned, I don’t think it would be wise to mention his ‘brother’ to him. Seeing as he knows nothing about him anyway.”

“You may be right,” Brother Willim says.

“Now I judge it to be about two days to the dark of the moon, so we have that amount of time to find a way into the temple. After that it will just be a matter of getting to the teleportation dais.”

“Still sure you can figure that thing out?” Jiron asks.

“To be honest, I don’t know,” he replies. “But I don’t see any other way to reach Tinok in time.”

“Go to sleep,” suggests Stig. “Maybe the gods will send you another dream to help you along.”

Brother Willim shakes his head. “You can’t look for these things,” he explains. “They come when they do.”

James nods his head. “I think we’ve received all the help we’re going to,” he says. “We know where we have to go and how to get there. We just need to do it.” To Jiron he says, “Perhaps you should get going.”

Jiron nods and gets to his feet. “Reilin, Shorty, let’s go,” he says before turning for the door. With them in tow, he opens the door. Pausing, he glances back to James and says, “If that guy should show up again, don’t commit to anything until I get back.”

“I don’t plan to,” he replies.

Jiron meets his gaze meaningfully then turns and leaves. Reilin and Shorty follow him out and then close the door behind. Those in the room hear their footsteps move down toward Aleya’s room and stop there for a moment, probably to let her know what’s going on. Then they hear a door close and their footsteps continuing down the hallway.

James turns to the others and says, “Now we wait.”

Knock! Knock!

After the others left, James had laid down on the bed. Fatigue from the previous two days of travel gets the better of him and he soon drifted off to sleep. The knocking on the door snaps him out of it.

Getting up off the bed, he crosses to the door and cracks it open. Out in the hallway is the slave he talked with the night before. In his hand is a wadded piece of cloth. Opening the door wider, he gestures for him to enter. Once the young man crosses into his room, he sticks his head out and sees the same slave at the head of the stairs as had been there the night before.

Then the door across the hall opens and Scar sticks his head out, probably having heard the knocking. He sees the slave in his room and looks questioningly to James. James gives him a sign saying it’s okay, then jerks his head toward the slave at the head of the stairs. Scar glances that way and sees him standing there. He turns back to James and nods.

Closing the door, James moves to the table and takes the same seat he sat in the night before. The slave does the same. “Did you talk with the person you mentioned last night?” he asks.

The slave nods. “Yes I did.”

“And?”

“And he thinks you’re a fool for seeking to enter the temple,” he explains. “But said that he might be willing to help you if you were to come and meet him.”

“Why?” he asks.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. If you want his help, you are going to have to come and meet with him.”

James sits back and considers it. He recalls what Ceadric had said about the Empire offering a hundred thousand gold piece reward for his death. Could this be a ploy to cash in on it? “I suppose I would have to come with you alone? Couldn’t take someone with me could I?”

“No,” the slave states. “He said for you to come alone.” He then tosses the wadded piece of cloth he holds in his hand onto the table. “He also said for you to be wearing this.”

James picks up the cloth and sees it’s one of the loincloths the slaves wear. “Just this?” he asks, none too happy about parading around in such a thing.

The young man can’t help but grin at the expression on James’ face. “Yes, just that.”

“I can’t,” he says, replacing it back on the table.

“You must if you are to meet with him,” he insists.

“I understand that,” James assures him. Then he stands up and removes his own shirt. Underneath he’s very white and pale. Having never been one to walk around bare-chested, he never built up a tan. “I could never fool anyone in thinking I was a slave. Do I look like someone who’s spent time out in the sun in nothing but a slave’s loincloth?”

“No, you don’t,” he says. “This is going to complicate things.”

“Yes it will.” Putting his shirt back on, James takes his seat again.

Just then there’s another knock on the door. The young man sitting across from him gets an alarmed look on his face. “Relax,” James tells him. Getting up, he crosses over to the door and opens it.

Out in the hallway he sees Scar and Potbelly standing there with the slave who had been at the top of the stairs held between them.

“What is this?” demands the young man sitting at the table in James’ room.

James gestures for them to enter and once they’ve left the hallway, closes the door. Turning back to the young man, he says, “I don’t like being spied on.”

“He wasn’t spying on you,” the young man assures him. “He was making sure I was okay.”

“Same thing if you ask me,” Scar says.

“Let him go,” James says and the other slave is released. The slave then moves to the side of the young man and they stand together staring defiantly at James and the others.

“Don’t really act much like slaves do they?” Potbelly observes.

“No,” agrees Scar. “Very few slaves I’ve run across would dare to cross eyes with a free man. Let alone ask demanding questions of one.”