“Alright then, let’s go,” he says.
Aleya jumps up and rushes to her room where she returns with her bow and quiver of arrows slung across her back. “A bit conspicuous don’t you think?” asks Brother Willim when he sees her.
She puts on her cloak to hide her weapon but now simply looks like a severely hunchbacked woman. “Any better?” she asks.
“No,” he replies shaking his head. “Best to just leave it off.”
Taking off her cloak, she then removes her bow and quiver. Wrapping them within the cloak, she tucks the bundle under her arm and then looks to Brother Willim. “Better?” she asks.
Nodding with a grin, he says, “Much.” In his hand he carries his staff, the only weapon the Priests of Asran are allowed to utilize.
Now that everyone is ready, Jiron makes for the stairs and then down to the common room. He angles for a side door that leads into the alley between the Soaring Eagle and the chandlery shop that is next door.
Once in the alley, he turns to James and says, “Stay a good deal behind me. He could be observing us right now.”
“Understood,” he says as he places his hand on Jiron’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Turning toward the street which passes before the inn, he moves quickly. Reaching the street, he turns to the right and is gone.”
“How long do you think we should wait?” asks Stig.
“A couple minutes or so,” replies James. Taking out his mirror, he soon has Jiron in sight as he walks down the street. Giving him some time to put distance between them, he waits until he reaches the street that he’s supposed to turn down. Once he sees Jiron turn onto the other street, he glances up and says, “Okay, let’s go.”
Moving to the end of the alley, Scar and Potbelly take the lead while James stays in the middle of the group. Miko takes his arm to help guide him as he’s trying to keep Jiron in view with his mirror.
“Not too fast,” he says. “We don’t want to catch him before he gets there. Remember, the meeting is for an hour from now, we still have some time.” Scar and Potbelly slow down to a more moderate pace.
Keeping a constant eye on the mirror, he sees Jiron reaching what must be the park. The street he’s walking upon opens out onto a large area with trees, grass and many walkways. Benches are spaced periodically along the walkways. Some even now have people taking their ease upon them, primarily couples.
When James’ group turns onto the street leading to the park, he glances up and looks around. To Scar and Potbelly he says, “Try to find an out of the way place where we can hold up until he needs us.”
Another street down they come to a closed open air eatery. The place looks like it hasn’t been open for some time. Adjacent to it is an area deep in shadow with tables and chairs where patrons could dine on the food they purchase. Scar leads them to the table furthest from the street where the shadows are the deepest.
“Best we’re going to find,” he says.
“This will do nicely,” says James. Then to the pair he says, “Keep watch.”
Nodding, they move back to separate locations near the street where shadows help to conceal them from those passing by.
James takes a seat and lays the mirror upon the table. Everyone else gathers around to see how Jiron makes out.
After leaving the others behind in the alley by the inn, he got to thinking about what if Azku doesn’t speak his language. He almost turned around to take Reilin with him but then remembered that the note the boy had delivered was written in northern. Plus, it did say come alone. He hopes Ohan back at the Order of the Scarlet Sword mentioned that few of them spoke the Empire’s tongue.
He counts off the streets he passes and when he comes to the sixth intersection, takes the street branching off to the left. It takes him some time to traverse the length of the street to the park, but the street finally ends and the park unfolds before him.
If it wasn’t for the distraction of his worry about Tinok, he might’ve been able to enjoy it more. Several cobblestone paths wind through the trees and grass, benches are spaced in such a way that those who decide to rest for awhile, may do so in private. Quite an unusual sight to find here in the desert.
Just past where the street ends is a large open area from which the paths through the park begin. A lone musician is setting up to play there in the open area. He puts a bowl down on the cobblestones, takes the guitar- like instrument in hand and soon has a lively melody coursing through the park.
Jiron ignores him and scans the park for any sign of red lanterns. Not seeing anything immediately, he decides to take the center path through the park. At some point it has to intersect or come close to the branching of the river that is supposed to flow through here. Then it will be easy enough to follow the water until he comes across the bridge.
Stepping quickly, he enters the park. Lights begin to flare into being as two men move from lamp pole to lamp pole, lighting the lanterns hanging there. The sight of them lighting the lanterns gives him the thought that perhaps the lanterns on the bridge haven’t been lit yet. Whether they have or not, he still feels confident that he can find them.
The path he’s on doesn’t go in a straight line, rather it winds first this way then that in a leisurely progression through the trees. When at last the smell of water comes to him, he stops and tries to ascertain which direction it’s coming from. Before he can determine which way, the sound of water running over rocks can be heard coming from his right.
Moving off the path, he cuts through a small copse of trees. When he exits the other side, the small branch of the river appears before him. He looks first one way then the other and spies a bridge spanning the water off to his left. No red lights come from the area, but then none of the other lanterns in the area have been lit yet.
He can see one of the lantern lighters making his way along the cobblestone path leading to the bridge. Light after light flares to life as the man works his way closer, lighting each lantern in turn. When the man at last lights the lantern hanging from the pole just before the bridge, Jiron holds his breath. If those lanterns there on the bridge don’t burn red, he’s going to have some words with Reilin.
The man approaches the bridge and brings his long stick with a burning candle on the top toward the lantern. Jiron watches from the trees as the candle enters the lantern. Then a burst of red light appears and he sighs in relief. This is the place.
He’s not exactly sure, but he thinks he may have a half hour left before the time of the meeting. Scanning the park, he finds one of the benches that’s close to the bridge. Fortunately it’s currently not occupied. Facing the bridge as it is, it will afford him a good view of whoever crosses it. Sitting down, he settles in to wait.
“What’s he doing?” Stig asks.
“Waiting, of course,” explains Miko. “There’s still some time before the hour is up.”
“Suppose no one shows?” asks Aleya. Already she has taken her bow and quiver of arrows from out of her cloak. The quiver is slung over her shoulder while her bow is in hand, strung and ready just in case.
“Go back to the Cracked Ladle I guess,” James replies with a shrug. “We’ll worry about the ‘what ifs’ should it prove necessary.” He always hated it when someone did the ‘what ifs’. It never ended and eventually he got on them about it and made them stop.
As it looks like nothing is going to happen right away, they relax. All that is but James who must maintain the image in the mirror. He’s not about to take the chance that something may happen should he but looks away for an instant.
A few couples have made their way across the bridge during the time Jiron spent observing it, as well as half a dozen kids. At one point while he was waiting, a man came and sat down on the bench next to him then started talking to him. The man was dressed well and seemed a friendly sort. Of course the fact that he was speaking the Empire’s tongue posed a difficult problem.
Feigning a sore throat and that he couldn’t talk, Jiron coughed a few times and the man eventually got the idea. Getting up, he says something that was probably close to ‘Hope you get better’ and then walked off.
As the man walked away, Jiron wondered if that could have been the man he was supposed to meet. He doubts it, the man didn’t seem to be other than what he appeared, someone out for an evening stroll before bedtime.
The time comes when Jiron figures it must be close to the appointed hour. Coming to his feet, he leaves the bench behind and makes his way over to the bridge. Still looking around, he doesn’t see anyone nearby. Stepping
