Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [40]
“Sure is hot here,” Jiron comments to no one in particular.
“You said it,” Tinok responds. “I’ve never seen it like this before. I mean, sure, back home it got hot, but this is insane.”
“Just make sure to drink lots of water so you don’t get dehydrated,” James tells everyone.
The girl returns from the kitchen with a tray laden with a large heap of sliced meat and three loaves of bread balanced on one hand, while in the other she has a pitcher and five mugs. Jiron gets up to help her as it looks like she’s about to lose it.
“Thank you,” she says gratefully, smiling at him as he takes the tray from her and places it on the table.
He gives her a slight bow and says, “Anything for a pretty lady.”
The girl blushes, then places the pitcher and the mugs on the table. “If there’s anything else you require, just let me know.” She then returns to the kitchen.
“Stop bothering people,” Delia says to Jiron sternly.
“What?” Jiron exclaims. “Can’t a guy give a girl a compliment?”
She just glares at him.
James takes his knife and cuts off two slices of bread and then takes a slice of meat, placing it between them. Taking a big bite, he’s reminded of a hamburger from back home, though the flavor is a little stronger than what he’s used to.
Everyone begins taking the bread and making ‘goat burgers’. The break from the trail is nice, what with being in the shade and a nice breeze coming in through the window. They finish eating before the hour is up and relax around the table until it’s time to return to the blacksmith’s. Tinok takes the last of the bread and stuffs the remaining goat inside it as he leaves the table, eating it on the way over.
They’re surprised at what awaits them back at the blacksmith’s. Not only did he construct a frame for each wagon, but has also installed an off-white cloth covering for each as well.
Seeing them enter, he comes over to them and asks, “How do you like it?”
“Very nice,” James replies admiringly. Not only will anyone sitting on the driver’s bench be out of the sun, but it covers the entire wagon as well, shading the holding area.
“You’re mounts looked thirsty,” he tells them, “so I took them over to the well and gave them water.” He indicates a well off to the side with a two foot trough sitting on the ground next to it.
“Thank you,” James says.
“You’re welcome,” the blacksmith says as he leaves them to go back and work on more horseshoes.
They get back on the wagons, Jiron on his horse, and resume their journey to Korazan. The shade provided by the covering helps immensely to alleviate the worst of the sun’s heat. Though it’s still incredibly hot, at least they’re no longer at risk of severe sunburn. Jiron though, doesn’t seem to be bothered by being out in the sun on his horse.
After riding for a ways, Delia asks, “What would you have done if that paper turned out to not to have been a pass?”
James shrugs, “I don’t know, that would have depended on what he did.”
“Think we’ll be able to play this off in Korazan?” she asks.
“Hope so,” he replies. “Not sure what else to do if it doesn’t.”
They continue on in silence, every once in a while passing a caravan or other travelers going in the opposite direction. After one of the caravans passes, Jiron slows down until the wagon James is riding upon comes abreast of him and then asks, “Did you see those men in the caravan, the ones wearing only a brown loincloth?”
“Yeah,” James said, “I noticed them.”
“I think they were slaves,” he tells him. “The people who were captured when the City fell were dressed similarly when they were being marched south.”
“Thanks,” James replies, “I didn’t know that.”
Jiron gives him a quick nod then resumes his place at the front of the caravan.
As time goes by more and more travelers pass, some having slaves accompanying them, others not. Whenever he sees them his anger blossoms, even though he is impotent to do anything about it. He would free them all if he could, but doing that would bring down the wrath of the powers that