Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [118]
“You got that right,” agrees Jiron.
Up ahead of them, they begin to see a small fishing village appearing along the coast. Several small boats are out upon the water where men are casting out nets and pulling them back with fish ensnared within.
The village is just a small collection of huts so they continue on, hoping for a larger city. A small boy comes running out from between two of the huts as they pass and Roland hails him. When the boy comes over, he asks him something. After giving him an answer, the boy runs back into the village as he continues playing with his friends.
“What did you ask him?” inquires James.
“I asked him how far it was to the next large town,” he replies. “He said a day away is the trading port of Al-Kur.”
“Good,” James says. “If we hurry, maybe we can reach it by nightfall.”
“Hopefully not running into any more patrols along the way,” Scar adds. He looks to his friend Potbelly, he seems to be doing okay even though a red stain has begun to appear on his shirt from where blood is continuing to seep through the stitches. All this riding is not allowing him to heal properly.
A couple of miles past the fishing village, they come to another town, this one is larger than the one they just passed through. They send Roland, Ezra and Arkie in to see about buying them all clothes so they can blend in with the natives. The rest continue around the town and await their return a mile or so further down the road. Once the town is no longer in sight behind them, they pull off the road and rest while they have a bite to eat.
James paces around nervously, worried about Roland and his family, until Jiron comes over and says, “Relax, they’ll be fine. A man with his wife and kid will be the last one the Empire’s men would be looking for.”
“I know,” he replies. “I just can’t help but worry.”
From where Scar sits with Potbelly, he can hear Scar say, “See! You done tore out a couple of the stitches.” He looks over and sees Delia getting her needle ready to redo the stitches. “I hope this hurts,” he tells his friend.
Potbelly just gives him an ugly look as he braces himself for the needle. James sees him flinch when she begins and turns his attention back to the east as he continues searching for the return of Roland and his family.
Shortly after Delia is finished with Potbelly, James begins to see two horses coming down the road. With relief, he sees that it’s Roland and family burdened with several bundles of clothes. Roland waves and smiles when he sees James standing there.
He distributes the clothes to everyone once they’ve reached the others, saying, “There wasn’t much selection, I hope they fit well enough.”
Actually, the clothes do fit well enough, Shorty’s is a bit long, but serviceable.
James looks around at everyone in their new clothes. Not bad, he thinks. Now if they could just do something about their weapons and shields, but all they can do is pack them away as unobtrusively as possible in with their other gear. Their disguise will uphold under a brief scrutiny, but anything more direct would easily expose them.
“I guess it’s the best we can do,” Jiron says to James.
“At least we don’t stick out nearly as bad anymore,” he adds.
“To Al-Kur, then,” Jiron says as everyone mounts up and gets underway. Potbelly allows Scar to help him into the saddle this time, due primarily to the scolding he received from Delia when she had to redo his stitches. Possibly from the pain of the restitching as well, but he isn’t likely to admit that to anyone.
Setting a quick pace, they make all speed for Al-Kur. They pass many travelers throughout the day, but none give them more than a quick glance or a brief ‘Hello’. Roland rides in the lead with James and Jiron so he can field any and all greetings that they receive.
The sun begins to set and still Al-Kur has not appeared upon the horizon. “Maybe the boy was wrong?” suggests Jiron.
“Perhaps,” agrees James. “We did have that stopover to get the clothes, let’s travel a few more hours and see if it appears. If not, we