Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [114]
“I suppose,” she says. She gives him a quick glance and continues, “Did anyone tell you why he captured us?”
He shakes his head and replies, “No, not yet.”
“Well, the last package on the list was for his estate,” she tells him. “When we went to deliver the goods, the man at the gate called the guards and had us taken. It seems that the smugglers had worked for Lord Cytok, in fact his is the name on that letter James has been showing everyone.”
Nodding his head, he says, “That makes sense.”
“Yeah,” she says. “They held us until he showed up and then began questioning us as to how the letter and the cargo came to be in our possession. He hadn’t been at it very long before you guys showed up.” She lays her head on his shoulder and he puts his arm around her as sobs begin to wrack her body.
Holding her close, he sits there silently as she lets out all the emotions she’s kept bottled up since the ordeal.
When she’s done, she wipes her eyes and says, “Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he assures her. He gives her one more hug and then says, “Now, you go and get some sleep, you look like you could use it.”
Nodding her head, she begins to turn toward the house. Then she comes back over to him and gives him one last hug before leaving him there alone.
He watches her go until she’s inside the house. Brushing away the tears that had fallen from his eyes in the dark, he turns his attention back to keeping watch.
Late in the night as Stig is taking his turn at watch, he hears horses passing off in the distance. He quickly moves to try to better see where they’re going. In the moonlight he’s able to see a company of twenty empirical horsemen ride past, going to the east.
He continues watching them until they disappear into the night. When he wakes Yorn for his turn, he tells him of the riders before turning in.
Yorn keeps a watchful eye and ear out for any other visitors, but his watch passes quietly.
“This is not the afterlife,” Scar assures Potbelly when he wakes up, thinking he’s dead.
“It’s not?” he asks confused. “But I died last night.” He sits up, even though the pain in his side is throbbing greatly.
“Don’t you tear out those stitches!” Scar admonishes him severely. He lays a hand on his friend and says, “You need to rest and let you’re body heal.”
Potbelly gives his friend an annoying look as he knocks his hand off his shoulder. “Don’t need no nursemaid!” he exclaims. “Been hurt worse than this many times in the pits.”
“Stubborn,” Potbelly tells him, “that’s what you are.”
Tersa walks over to see how he’s doing and he asks, “Are you sure this isn’t the afterlife? For there surely must stand an angel.”
She smiles at him and asks, “How are you doing?”
“Better,” he replies, “seeing as how I’m not dead.”
“That’s good,” she tells him. “Jiron was saying that we might stay here till tomorrow if nobody shows up.”
“What for?” Potbelly asks.
“So we can rest and you can heal,” she replies.
“Heal? Me?” he asks as if the thought had never even occurred to him. “Now don’t be thinking that I need any rest.” He starts to get up and says through teeth clinched in pain, “I hardly even notice it.”
“Be that as it may,” she tells him, “we’re here for a while so you may as well take advantage of it and heal the best you can.” She gives him a playful, stern gaze.
“Yes ma’am,” he replies as he settles back down to the floor.
“Keep an eye on him,” she says to Scar, giving him a wink and a smile.
“You can count on it,” he assures her as he turns his gaze to Potbelly. “You rest!”
Potbelly gives them both a small smile as he lies back down and soon drifts off to sleep once more.
Over to the other side of the room, James has awakened and is talking with Jiron. “Did everyone make it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” he replies, “we’re all here. Potbelly took a bolt in the side, but he’ll survive.”
“That’s good,” James says. “We should probably get going soon.”
“You need rest,” Jiron tells him, “and Potbelly could use a day for his wound to heal.”
“We may not have that much time,” warns James. “They’re going to want us