Fires of Prophecy_ Book Two of the Morcyth Saga - Brian Pratt [67]
“Guess he thought wrong,” Tinok says, chuckling. Cassie runs over to Tinok, burying her head in his shoulder, crying.
Jiron and James check the horses and find them fine then return to the camp. A fire has already been started from the embers of their earlier one. “Everyone alright?” James asks as they return.
“We’re fine,” Delia replies. The two lads had come out as well, knives at the ready, but have sheathed them again now that the fight was over.
James can hear Tinok trying to calm Cassie by saying, “It’s okay, it’s over.”
Jiron begins the task of dragging the bodies out into the desert away from camp, while everyone else takes stock of the situation.
As James sits down by the fire, the two lads stare at him with eyes wide. “What?” he says to them.
They reply in their own language.
“I would appreciate it if you would never mention this to anyone?” he asks, an edge to his voice. He’s surprised when they both nod their heads in quick agreement. Maybe they can’t speak it, just understand it.
When Jiron returns, he says to James, “You’re getting better, less tired.”
“Been getting a lot of practice lately,” he says. “Too much if you ask me.”
“I’ll say,” Tinok agrees from where he stands nearby with Cassie, though he doesn’t seem too disappointed at being able to ‘practice’ with his knives.
After a while, when everyone has calmed down, they all try to go back to sleep, only this time taking turns at watch.
The next day they see scavengers over at the dead bodies, having a little morning breakfast. As quickly as possible, they hook up the horses and get on the road, none wish to remain a second longer near the dead bandits.
For the rest of the day, they make very good time, having only to stop to water and feed the horses. A little before sunset they come to a small cluster of buildings, hardly large enough to even call it a village.
“Looks to be just a way stop for travelers,” guesses James.
“Could be,” agrees Jiron. “Look,” he says as he points to a group of wagons already camped a short ways from the buildings, “you may be right.”
James says, “Looks like as good a place as any to stop for the night.”
“I agree,” replies Jiron.
Turning off the road, Jiron leads them a hundred yards from the nearest building, to a place where pits for campfires are available. Once the wagons and horses are set for the night, Delia, James, Jiron and Roland go over to the buildings to investigate. Cassie, Ezra and the two boys remain behind with the wagons.
There are only four buildings, one has a sign of a cracked egg and another one with crossed shovels. Deciding to try the one with the cracked egg, they go over and enter through the front door.
Inside, they find a large room with a central hearth containing many tables. A man comes over as they enter and says, “Welcome. How may I serve you today?” Heavy with accent, but understandable.
“We just arrived and were looking around, seeing what is available here,” James explains.
“Ah, first time here?” the man asks.
“Yes,” Delia pipes up.
“Here at the Broken Egg, you can get a meal and a room if you desire,” he tells them. “The other shop across the street has many goods that a traveler may require.” He pauses for a response and when none is forthcoming, asks, “Would you care for a room, or perhaps a bite to eat?”
Shaking his head, James says, “Not right now, we may come back later though, thank you.”
“You’re welcome sirs,” and then with a slight nod to Delia he adds, “ma’am.”
They turn to leave and once outside Jiron says, “Nice place.”
“Maybe we could take turns and come here for dinner this evening,” suggests James.
“That would be an excellent idea,” agrees Roland. Jiron and Delia nod in agreement.
Crossing over to the store, they enter and find a small man, almost a midget, asleep behind the counter. They all look at each other wondering what they should do and then Jiron closes the door loudly, startling the man awake.
He sits up and looks around, rubbing his eyes. Seeing them standing there and recognizing them for northerners, he