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 them, 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
