Brian Pratt: The mists of sorrow

“For a little while longer,” Scar tells him.

“Don’t stay up too long,” he tells them and then heads for the exit leading to his room.

Miko walks with him until he reaches his room. Both remain quiet, the words Brother Willim spoke still running through their minds.

At James’ door, Miko takes his leave and goes down to the next door which is his. Entering his room, James creates his orb and undresses before crawling into bed. Canceling the orb, he begins to drift into sleep.

Just before he completely succumbs to sleep, the tingling of magic comes to him. Alarmed, he grabs his slug belt and hurries out the door. The cry to Miko dies on his lips when he finds one of the members of the Hand of Asran outside his door, a soft green glow about him.

“Rest peacefully,” the priest tells him. “I shall watch tonight.”

“Uh,” stammers James, slightly embarrassed for running out into the hallway in his small clothes, “thanks.” Ducking back into his room, he closes the door and returns to bed. Chuckling at the mental picture of himself in the hallway, he’s able to drift off to sleep.

Later in the night, a guard is walking the battlements when a green light appears in the sky and falls to a point to the east. He’s seen many falling stars, but none of that color. Making the sign against evil he pulls his coat tighter around himself and continues his watch.

The following morning James rises with the sun. Quickly getting dressed, he buckles on his slug belt and throws his pack over his shoulder. Leaving his room, he meets Miko in the hallway as he’s leaving the room next to his.

“Ready?”

Closing the door, Miko nods. “Yes. The cook should have breakfast ready when we get there.”

James grins at that, Miko had always been one who liked to eat. It’s a marvel he’s not fat. Walking side by side, they follow the aroma of fresh baked bread to the dining area where everyone else has already arrived and begun to eat.

Moving through the morning diners, James makes his way to the table where Illan sits. Ceadric is there as well and he takes the seat to his right.

“Good morning all,” he says as he sits down. No more than a moment elapses before a server comes with a plate of tubers and boiled beef from the Empire’s store of goods. This fortress had been well stocked with all the necessities by the Empire before it fell. Illan isn’t going to have to worry about resupplying for at least a month.

Illan nods as he sits down and says, “Looks like you will have fair weather for travel.”

“The road north is clear,” adds Ceadric. “Reports say the only Empire forces in Madoc are those currently locked in battle with our armies.”

“That’s good to know,” he says as he digs into the food.

“Be careful anyway,” warns Ceadric. “You never know.”

“We will,” he replies.

It’s a somber mood among the companions, each knowing that when the meal is over most will head north while others stay behind. Even Scar and Potbelly are subdued. They’re going to miss the rivalry they have enjoyed with Jorry and Uther. The four of them sit off to the side and every once in awhile one or the other raises their voices in good natured scoffing. The fact that it is only once in awhile and not a constant series of outbursts reveals how melancholy they are about their impending separation.

The meal finally comes to a close and the companions make their way to the courtyard where several Raiders have already prepared horses for travel. As the others mount, Delia comes to Illan and gives him a hug. “Your Alaina would have been proud by the way things have turned out for you,” she tells him.

A slight tear comes to his eye as he replies, “Yes. I think she would.” He helps her into the saddle and then turns to James. “There will be fresh horses waiting for you on your return.”

“I appreciate that,” he says from the back of his horse. “Expect us in a week.”

Illan grins. “If you make the trip in a week you will definitely need other steeds.”

“Good luck to you all,” Ceadric says. To the sides of the courtyard, all the Raiders stand at attention in respect for those who are leaving.

Once everyone is mounted and ready, James salutes Illan smartly and then turns toward the gate. Making their way out from the keep, he can’t help but glance back one more time to the friend he’s leaving behind. He seriously doubts that things would have turned out so well if Illan had not been with him. Not for the first time does he wonder if another had a hand in such a stroke of good fortune. It’s been awhile since Igor’s made an appearance and he wonders what he may be up to.

Behind him ride Miko, Jiron and Aleya, and then Brother Willim. The other two remaining members of the Hand of Asran are there to bid him farewell. They will leave later in the day to return their fallen brothers to the temple.

Next come Delia and Tersa, the pit fighters and then finally the recruits. As the last rider leaves the gate and they close, he gets them up to a fast gallop. The road ahead is deserted, which is what they were expecting. Who in their right mind would be traveling in a war zone anyway?

Keeping a fast pace, they make Saragon in two days. Along the way they encounter the occasional Madoc patrol which does little more than find out whom they are and where they are going before allowing them to continue.

They make camp at Saragon the second night. The last time they were here it was occupied by the Empire and gangs of slaves were reconstructing the city. That is until the slaves rose against their captors to give James and Jiron a chance to escape the city.

He remembers the old man Derrion, whose family had kept a secret given to them centuries past. That secret eventually led them to Ironhold and the Star of Morcyth. James has not forgotten his promise to tell the tale of the last fight when Derrion led the slaves in revolt here to allow them a chance to escape. He plans to when time and opportunity permits.

Tents of Madoc soldiers dot the landscape in front of the gates. The soldiers appear fairly lax. Now that the lines are far to the south once more, they can afford to drop their guard some.

“A bit different than the last time we were here isn’t it?” asks Jiron as he comes to stand next to James. They didn’t bring any tents with them, just bedrolls and gear for inclement weather. He plans to move fast and the added weight would only slow the horses down.

“You can say that again,” replies James. “I thought for sure that they had planned to stay.”

Scar and Potbelly make their way from the soldier’s camp where they had been finding out the news of the local area. Coming straight to James, they stop just before him. “It’s clear to the north,” Scar states.

“Yeah, appears the reports Illan received back at the keep were accurate,” adds Potbelly. “Except that the Merchant’s Pass is now open. Looks like we won’t have to make the added trip all the way to Dragon’s Pass.”

“Excellent,” Jiron says, happy that there will be a few less days before they begin the search for Tinok. “We can escort them to the Pass and then head back south.”

The sound of sparring comes from where Stig is drilling with Devin and Moyil. The recruits have become fighters of some skill, though nothing to the degree of the pit fighters. Against regular opponents, thieves and such, they should be able to hold their own. Devin, aside from the sword, puts in some practice with the spear James had given him so long ago. Why he still carries it is a mystery. Maybe it’s due to the fact James had used magic to harden and sharpen it, it’s really quite a good weapon.

“We’ll be at the Pass in little over a day,” Potbelly says.