no.
James thinks a moment then says, “How about this.” When he has Jiron’s attention again he continues. “We have been trusting my cloth trick to lead the way, correct?”
“Correct,” concedes Jiron.
“Then let’s do this,” he explains. “We bypass Korazan. If, when we are on the south side and the cloth points back toward Korazan, then we go. Otherwise we continue to follow wherever it may lead.”
Jiron mulls that over in his mind. He knows James’ magic is seldom, if ever, wrong. Nodding, he says, “Very well. If once we are on the far side it still points south, then I will forget about Korazan.”
Everyone breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing anyone wanted was to return and spend any amount of time there. If there was any place where they may be recognized, it would be at Korazan.
“Then I suggest when we come close, we leave the road at that time,” Stig says. “If we go to the city and skirt around its walls, it could seem suspicious.”
“I agree,” nods James.
When their meal of goat, bread and a root reminiscent of a carrot arrives, they dig in with gusto. At one point in the meal Shorty mumbles under his breath, “…flowing with blood.”
“What?” James asks.
Looking up from his plate, Shorty didn’t realize he had spoken aloud. “Sorry,” he says. “It’s just that we barely even went into town. The way they make it sound, we killed half the people and left their bodies rotting in the streets.”
Scar laughs at that. “Pay it no mind,” he replies. “In a few years the story will grow to that we killed half the town and bathed in their blood.”
“Probably,” agrees Potbelly. “Remember that time with Oofa?” Scar nods.
“Oofa?” asks Jiron. “I don’t think I heard that one.”
“Oofa was a man who often came to the Pits to watch me fight,” he explains. “He was a self proclaimed aficionado of the Pits. Claimed he knew everything about everybody.”
James and Miko give each other a knowing glance and grin. Potbelly may not realize it, but he and Scar come off as just that type every now and then.
“One night, he took me out to dinner,” he continues. “Said he wanted to get to know me better so he would be able to make more informed wagers.” Shrugging, he looks around at the others and says, “A meal’s a meal.”
“Was this guy about five foot six with a bad comb-over?” asks Stig.
Smiling, Scar says, “That’s the guy.”
“I remember him now,” he says. “Always managed to get a spot right in front.”
“Back to my story,” Potbelly interjects. “While we were eating, he made some comment about how he’s bleeding this one lord dry. Apparently he and this lord bet often and Oofa always won. Anyway, the next day, he’s arrested.”
Scar begins laughing and says, “Someone must have overheard their conversation. By the time the rumor mill churned it out, he was an assassin bent on killing this lord.”
Potbelly starts laughing now and others join in. “It took him three days to straighten the misunderstanding out,” explains Potbelly. “The lord, too proud to admit that he spent time at the Pits, claimed he didn’t know the guy.” Tears coming from his eyes, he concludes with, “The day after Oofa was released, the lord showed up at the Pits sporting two black eyes and a split lip!” Unable to contain himself anymore, Potbelly slaps the table and almost chokes to death on a piece of carrot. Scar slaps him on the back and dislodges it for him.
Laughing with the rest of them, James is suddenly aware that the entire room is quiet and the other guests are staring at them. Sobering up quickly, he works to quiet the others down a bit. “Everyone’s staring at us,” he says quietly. “We don’t want to attract attention.” One by one they calm down. When the laughter finally stops, the other patrons return to their meal and the buzz of conversation resumes.
They hurry through their meal and are soon back on the road. Taking out his mirror while he rides, he brings Korazan’s image into focus. He sees the gaping wall where they made their way into the slaver compound. A mile out of town lies a mound of dirt that wasn’t there the last time. Probably the mass grave where they buried the dead after the battles.
Workers have already begun to rebuild the destroyed section of the wall, a flurry of activity is taking place in and around the base of the opening. Wagonloads of stone blocks sit awaiting their turn to be set into the wall. It didn’t take them long to begin the rebuilding.
Satisfied with what he’s seen, he cancels the image of Korazan and again tries to find Tinok. After several minutes of fruitless searching, he gives up and puts away the mirror. Glancing over to where Jiron rides beside him, he can see the unspoken question. Shaking his head, James says, “Nothing. I can bring up Korazan, but not Tinok. I’m sure he’s not there.”
“We’ll see,” he says.
James continues to periodically check on the distance to Korazan. When he figures them to be less than an hour away, they leave the road. He feels rather conspicuous as they are the only ones not using the road. But, keeping a steady pace without appearing to rush, should alleviate any thoughts or concerns the other travelers may have about them.
Once away from the road, he uses his mirror to maintain a good distance from the city as they circumvent it. Also, he keeps an eye out for any roving patrols which may be in the area. They were forced to come to a stop at one point when he sights in his mirror a score of riders that would have intersected their path at an inopportune time. When the riders were past and there was no danger of running into them, they resumed their journey.
It’s not only patrols that they work to avoid, but those living in the area as well. While unable to completely avoid all the farmstead in the area, James is at least able to have them thread their way through so they won’t come in close proximity to them. They see some of the farmers out with herds of goats, occasionally one would wave a greeting as they ride by.
Due to the meandering path he leads them on through the farmsteads, it takes them close to two hours to reach the road on the south side of Korazan. At which time he takes out his cloth to see where Tinok lies, whether it will be north to Korazan or still to the south. Everyone holds their breath and when the cloth rises to point south, they collectively breathe a sigh of relief. They had been dreading having to return to Korazan.
“That settles it,” announces Stig when the cloth rises.
“Yes it does,” agrees James. Turning to Jiron he says, “He’s not there.”
Disappointed, Jiron nods. “Let’s get going,” he says.
Putting the cloth back in his pouch, James indicates for Reilin to take the lead as they continue along the road to the south. To their right sits the lake, Tears of the Empress. A beautiful lake, its water glistens in the sun. Many boats of varying shapes and sizes are out upon her waters.
They follow the road south along the shore of the lake for an hour until they reach a crossroad. Taking the right fork, they continue to follow the shoreline until they reach its southernmost point. There the road turns and for a brief distance goes due west until it comes to where the waters flow from the lake into a sizeable river. At that point, the road turns from due west and follows the river on a more southwesterly course.
Not too far from where the road begins to follow the river, they come to another bridge that has been destroyed. Again as in the previous ones they came across on their way down, this one too is in the midst of reconstruction. Two of the makeshift wooden bridges span the river here.
“We didn’t come this far south,” states Stig.
“No, you didn’t,” affirms James.
“One of your wagons?” asks Jiron in a whisper.
“It had to have been,” he replies. Other than Jiron, he hadn’t told anyone else about what he did with the wagon and wanted to keep it that way. After splitting off with Illan, he had planted seeds of magic in the beds of various wagons in many caravans they had passed. The seeds were to accumulate magic and then explode when they crossed over bridges. It looked as if one had.
“Then how did this happen?” Stig asks. Glancing to James he adds, “You do this?”
“Yes and that’s all I will say about it,” he replies. The last thing he wants is to have word spread about what he does with magic. An idea of what is possible could lead others in the magic business into embarking upon acts that could have serious repercussions.
