Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [144]
“Maybe. Then what?” prompts Jiron.
“Oh, maybe rest for a while and perhaps build a house.” He glances to Jiron and continues, “There are some things I’ve been thinking about, things to do with magic that I would like to experiment with. I want to be somewhere safe and away from people where I can work and not be disturbed.”
“What about searching for information about this Morcyth? Do you still plan to continue with that?”
“Absolutely,” James replies. “There are things I still need to know, but the last few weeks have shown me that I need to be better prepared before I set out again.” He pauses for a few seconds then says, “But I’ll worry about that when I get Miko back to Cardri. One thing at a time.”
They ride along in silence for a while longer before a road appears in the distance ahead of them. The coastline has begun to curve which has brought the road toward them. Several travelers are upon it, none looking to be military in nature.
Jiron looks to James who shrugs and says, “The road might actually be okay now.”
“How do you figure?” he asks.
“Since that large force had just recently come through here,” he explains, “it’s unlikely they would expect us to be here.”
“Possibly,” states Jiron.
“Besides, I’m tired of slugging our way through the desert. I want to get to Miko as quickly as possible.
“Alright,” agrees Jiron as he leads them toward the road. Upon reaching it, a fellow traveler on his way north says something to them, but they ignore him as they pass.
The man turns and says something, an obvious statement about being rude before he continues on his way.
When they are some distance away from the closest traveler on the road, James says, “It’s going to be a problem, not being able to speak their language.”
“I know,” replies Jiron, “but what can we do about it?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” he says.
They follow the road for several more miles and the only traffic they encounter is civilian in nature. James is surprised at the lack of military presence on the roads. Maybe the force he saw before the storm is all they are sending, or are able to send. Hopefully the local garrisons have been depleted to make up that force and are unable to spare any for patrols.
A town begins to appear ahead of them and when Jiron notices it, suggests, “Perhaps we should skirt around it. We could make camp out in the desert and I could sneak in for some supplies after it gets dark.”
James nods agreement, “Our supplies are getting a little low.”
So they veer to the east and continue until they’ve reached a spot a good two miles away from the town. They set up camp and wait for the coming of darkness. When the sun reaches the horizon, Jiron mounts his horse and says, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, hopefully not longer.”
“Be careful,” cautions James.
“I will,” he assures him.
As he gets ready to leave, James stops him and says, “How are you going to be able to find me out here in the dark?”
Jiron looks around at the landscape and fixes the landmarks in his mind before he turns to James and says, “Rest assured, I’ll find you.” Then he turns his horse in the direction of the distant town and rides off into the deepening night.
Upon reaching the edge of town, he skirts along the edge, keeping to the shadows. He comes across several trees growing beyond the edge of town and stops to secure his horse in among them. With any luck he’ll still be there when he returns.
Removing a couple sacks from his saddle bags, he folds them up tightly and places them within his belt pouch. He pats his horse on the neck as he says, “Stay quiet,” and then melts into the darkness as he makes his way to town.
The wall surrounding the town is not very large, almost seems more for aesthetic value than for defense. A gate stands across the road where it passes through and is being guarded by two men. Jiron pauses for a moment to observe them as he evaluates his chances of making it through.
Deciding not to risk detection, he moves down