Shortly after getting underway, a cloud of dust can be seen rising from the direction of the road. James removes his mirror from his pouch and checks it out to find a force of several hundred riders moving fast on their way up to Morac.
“Word of our presence is spreading,” says Potbelly when James tells the others.
“Could be their heading that way has nothing at all to do with us,” counters Miko.
“Possibly,” says James, “but I doubt that. We better be on our guard from here on out.” Throughout the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon, he uses his mirror to scan for probable hostiles in the area. A couple times he has them detour around patrols of soldiers.
“Can you find Cyst?” Jiron asks some time after midday.
Scrolling the mirror to follow the road, a city soon appears. “There is a city up ahead,” he announces. “It’s rather large but doesn’t have a protective wall surrounding it like others have.”
“Is there a large compound on its eastern side?” asks Jiron. “Azku said that a slaver named Buka could be found in such a place.”
Nodding, he says, “Yes there is.” He moves the image in for a closer look and adds, “It’s definitely a slaver compound. There’s an auction going on even as we speak.” A string of young women, girls really, are being auctioned off one at a time, just as Jiron’s sister Tersa had before they rescued her.
“How far away is it?” he asks.
“Not more than a couple of hours,” he replies. “There’s not much of a military presence there either.”
“That’s good to hear,” remarks Scar.
“So if things go wrong, again, we shouldn’t have more than the city watch to deal with,” Potbelly adds.
“Well let’s try not to have things go bad this time,” James asserts. He makes one last scan for roving patrols then puts away his mirror. “It’s clear all the way there.”
“Excellent,” states Jiron.
For the next two hours or so, they ride quickly across the desert always keeping the road just out of sight. Then, from out of the horizon before them, the skyline of the city appears.
“You know, it might be better if we didn’t all go in together,” Scar says. “They’ll be on the lookout for a large group, not just a couple of people.”
“Good thinking,” says Jiron. Slowing down, he brings them to a halt and has them gather round. “James, Reilin and I will enter the city while the rest of you stay out here,” he says. From the way Scar is groaning, he was hoping to be one of the ones to go. “As you said Scar, three will be less noticeable than all of us together. I need Reilin, he’s the only one here who can talk to the people and find out where this guy is. James is along just in case.”
“With any luck, we won’t be too long,” he continues. “Stay out here, if you have to move to avoid detection, then do so. With James’ mirror we’ll be able to find you should you not be here when we return.”
“Good luck,” Aleya says. For once she’s not insisting to accompany him, much to his relief.
He moves his horse over close to hers and leans over to give her a kiss. “What about the rest of us?” Scar asks with a grin. The others break out laughing. Ignoring him, he says to her, “Be back in a bit.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she says and returns a kiss of her own.
“See,” says Potbelly to Scar, “if he gave you a kiss, you would have to give him one in return.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” jokes Scar and several of the others break out in laughter once again.
“Come on,” Jiron says as he turns to head toward the city. “We’re wasting daylight.” When he sees that James and Reilin are both ready to go, he nudges his horse into motion and soon all three are moving at a fast trot toward the road. Behind them, the others begin making their way over to a stand of stunted trees that will afford them some protection from the sun while they wait for their return.
To Reilin Jiron says, “Should you need to talk to someone, we are looking to purchase slaves.”
Nodding, Reilin replies, “Okay. What for?”
Shrugging, Jiron says, “I don’t know, how about for some brothel up north.”
“That’ll work,” he says.
They soon reach the road then turn to the southeast and to the city rising out of the desert. When they came out of the desert, the other travelers upon the road look at them quizzically but otherwise pay them no mind. Keeping a steady, but not too out of the ordinary pace, they make their way toward the city through the many wagons, riders and people on foot that clog the road.
Before they reach the edge of the city proper, other buildings begin sprouting up. Inns, chandler shops, and other businesses catering to travelers line both sides of the road. They even pass by one such structure, a two story building badly in need of repair, that has several women outside attempting to entice those on the road to come inside. The way the women are dressed leaves no doubt as to what service the traveler will receive should they take them up on the offer.
Before they completely pass through the outlying buildings and enter the city, the compound in question comes into view. A large wall surrounds it and a string of slaves are being led through the gate.
“I think this is it,” states Jiron.
Lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, Reilin asks, “How are we to get in there?”
“Buy a slave,” James says. “It’s really not that hard.” He gives Jiron a glance and they both grin at the memory of their last experience. Aside from buying many of those who are currently traveling with them, Jiron had fought a blood duel with a Parvati to free his sister.
Absentmindedly, Jiron rubs the necklace that hangs beneath his shirt that marks him as a Shynti, a designation given by Parvatis to only the most fearsome of fighters. He had acquired his shortly after winning the blood duel. The fact that he is so named has proven useful on a couple different occasions.
They work their way through town, Reilin fending off the few salutations that they receive. After turning onto the street that will take them straight to the slaver compound, James’ stomach cramps when he smells the most delectable odor coming from one of the open air eateries.
“Hold up a minute,” he says. “Let’s get a bite to eat first.”
Jiron glances to the position of the sun in the sky and nods. “There are still a few hours of sunlight left,” he says. “Why not?”
The mouthwatering aroma which stopped James is coming from an open pit where a whole pig is roasting on a spit. Sections have already been carved off its carcass for their patrons. “Here,” James says to Reilin as he hands him a couple silvers. “We’ll wait here.” He and Jiron stay just outside the entrance as Reilin takes the coins and goes inside.
He returns shortly with three half loaves of bread. The insides have been scooped out and spicy pork meat with a sizzling sauce now fills the cavity. James takes his and looks at it questioningly, not sure the best way to eat it without making a mess. Then he notices two men sitting at one of the tables who are eating the same thing. Watching them, he sees one man tear off a piece of the bread, and uses it to grab one of the thin slices of pork. Then he shoves the whole thing in his mouth.
Trying it, James tears off a two inch strip of bread and snags a piece of the pork. Placing it in his mouth, his eyes soon water as the spices on the meat set his tongue afire. Looking around, he sees the counter where the place sells mugs of ale. Moving over to it, he grabs one that has already been filled and completely downs it. Several of the men sitting at the various tables have noticed his reaction and a smattering of laughter breaks out. Once the fire has been reduced to a dull throbbing, James realizes that it tastes really good. Placing some coins on the counter, he takes another mug and rejoins the others.
“Spicy?” asks Jiron.
“You could say that,” he replies as he wipes away the tears forming once again. Tearing off another strip of bread, he takes more care this time and manages to reduce the effect of the spice.
When they’ve finished eating, they resume moving toward the slaver compound. People on the streets pay them little heed since they are still wearing their native attire and doing nothing to stand out. As they approach the slaver compound, the main gate through which the people are moving comes into view. Two slavers stand to either side of it looking rather bored. Occasionally, one of the people would stop and ask them a question before passing through.
Indicating the two slavers at the gate, Reilin asks, “Should I see if they can tell us if Buka is here?”
“Go ahead,” James says.
So when they approach the gates and are near the guards, Reilin steps up to the two men and asks, “Could
