“…probably some old people who got lost…” Scar says.
“…rumors get, as it goes from person to person it continuously gets blown all out of…” adds Scar.
James grins. If there is anyone who blows things out of proportion, it’s those two.
By sundown they reach a town. They recognize it as the last town Illan’s force took before heading out into the desert to avoid the fortress of Al-Ziron. It looks pretty much as they had left it. The few buildings which took damage during the assault are even now being repaired.
“Best if we don’t stay here,” suggests James.
Nodding, Jiron replies, “That would be a good idea. Never know if someone may recognize us.”
“Not to mention they are going to be extra leery of strangers,” pipes up Shorty.
“If memory serves,” Stig says, “we passed by an inn not too far south of here on our way north.”
“That’s right,” agrees Scar. “Three of our freed slaves made off with several casks of ale. That is before Illan found out. After returning the ale, he gave the men five lashes for ‘thieving without authorization’ or something like that.”
“I remember,” says Shorty. “He gave them the option of keeping the casks and sending them off on their own, or they could return them and receive five lashes.”
Laughing, Potbelly bursts out, “You should have seen their faces! I think one was actually contemplating keeping his cask but the other two talked him out of it. They didn’t relish the idea of being made slaves again for a single cask of ale each.”
“You guys didn’t interact with the innkeeper did you?” he asks. They all reply that they hadn’t. “Good,” continues James. “Then let’s stop there.”
With Reilin out front, they move to enter the town. The rest of them pull their hoods closer about them to better hide their faces. The town has no protective wall surrounding it, the road simply passes through the outlying buildings.
Evidence of their recent occupation is evident. The sight of slaves walking the street is practically nonexistent. On his way out of the Empire, Illan stripped the towns of their slaves, both to bolster his own army and that James had asked it of him.
As they make their way through the city, the people appear to have gotten over the effects of the occupation and have returned to business as usual. A few glance at them as they ride by but none give them more than a cursory glance. At one spot they come to a building that must have been torched during the occupation, the smell of char is still in the air even after so long.
Out front of the burned out building is an old man dressed poorly sitting cross-legged with a bowl on the ground before him. A couple coppers rest in the bottom of the bowl. Feeling the need to help, James removes a silver from his pouch and flips it toward the beggar as he rides by. When the coin sails through the air and comes close to the old man, his arm shoots up and snatches the coin. Putting the coin quickly within his meager clothes, he nods a thank you to James.
James returns the nod with a slight smile and continues on his way. Before the rest of the others pass by the old man, other coins are flipped to him as well. All toll, they must have given the old man over two silver’s worth of coins.
“It might not help him get off the streets,” James comments to Jiron, “but it might make his life more bearable for awhile.”
“True,” nods Jiron. He’s come to realize that ever since he first met James, he’s developed an appreciation for the world and his place in it that he hadn’t had before. When he was still in the City of Light and fighting in the Pits, he didn’t care much for others or how they may feel. But since joining with James and having him do ‘good things’ for no other reason than to do them, he’s come to understand that there is more to life than simply surviving.
Another way that James has affected him is in the way he no longer sees killing as a solution. If the circumstances warrant it, he will end someone’s life in the blink of an eye. But now, he questions more closely whether he must resort to that or not.
Continuing on their way, they finally make it past the last of the buildings on the south side of town. “The inn’s about an hour away,” Shorty states.
Nodding, James casts a quick look at the setting sun. It’ll be getting dark about the time they get there, which suits him nicely.
The sun sets and twilight begins setting in by the time the group of buildings of which the inn is a part appears ahead of them. Within the cluster of buildings, they see a sign of a tankard of ale which must indicate a tavern as well as another bearing a sign of a wagon with a load full of goods. Obviously, this place caters to those traveling upon the road.
Stopping before the only three story building here, they see a sign of a flowing river passing underneath a bed. This must be the inn. They send Reilin inside to get their rooms, who returns several minutes later.
He got five rooms with enough beds for all of them. Around back they find the stables and after getting their horses settled in, they head up to their rooms. As they pass through the common room, the sound of a bard comes to them and they see a rather young balladeer entertaining a full common room. The song the bard is playing is one James has heard Perrilin playing on a different occasion oh so long ago.
Moving to the stairs, they pass up to the second floor and turn down the hallway. Two lanterns hang from hooks in the ceiling to light their way as Reilin takes them all the way to the end. “Thought being on the end might afford us a little more quiet,” he says.
“Probably will,” agrees James. He and Jiron take one room while the others divide themselves among the others. Brother Willim and Miko take a room for themselves. Seems Miko has taken to having discussions with Brother Willim about being a priest as well as other things dealing with the priesthood. Aleya’s room, which she gets all to herself, is situated in between the one James and Jiron are in and the one Miko shares with Brother Willim. The others are on the opposite side of the hallway.
Once settled in, Reilin goes down and has a meal of roast goat, bread and a variety of vegetables sent up to their rooms. After the meal they are soon to bed for they plan an early start in the morning. James hits the bed, glad not to have to sleep again on the ground. No matter how many times he does, he will never find it even remotely comfortable. Jiron blows out the candle before getting to bed and they are soon asleep.
Chapter Twelve
The opening of the door awakens him. Sitting up in bed he sees a shadow standing in the hall outside his door. A floorboard creaks as Jiron makes his way from his bed toward the door, the glint of reflected moonlight from outside says he has a knife in hand.
“James,” whispers Miko urgently.
His orb suddenly springs to life and they see Miko there at the door, Brother Willim’s face peers over his shoulder. From where Jiron stands halfway to the door, James hears him mumble under his breath as he replaces his knife back in its sheath. Sitting up on his bed, James waves them inside.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Trouble,” says Miko. “There’s been a death here in the inn.” He glances from James to Jiron then back again. “It wasn’t a normal one.”
“Normal?” questions Jiron. “What do you mean by that?”
“I think someone’s been murdered,” he explains.
“When?” James asks.
“A few minutes ago,” he explains. “Remember how I told you that ever since what happened in the City of Light I’ve been able to feel when people near me pass on?” When James nods he continues. “Thankfully there haven’t been many, it still unnerves me when it happens. But this time, it felt…wrong.”
“Like the one back at Al-Ziron?” he asks.
Miko nods affirmatively. “Yes,” he replies. “Just as wrong.”
James can see the worry behind his friend’s eyes. He turns to Jiron and says, “Go get the others.”
“Right,” he replies then moves to the door and passes through into the hallway. Shortly, the sound of a door
