Shades of the Past_ Book Six of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [110]
Many well dressed people are upon the streets in this area leading James to believe this is the city’s government district. The affluent are seen coming and going from the impressive structures situated within this area.
Moving quickly but not so fast as to draw attention to themselves, they make it past the government district and reenter the city proper. Before the eastern gates are in sight, a caravan of a dozen or so wagons comes toward them from up the road.
Jiron motions for them to move to the side to give the caravan room to pass. As the first wagon comes abreast of where they have paused at the side of the road, he sees a small red flare coming from the underside of the second wagon. Casting a quick glance at James he finds him staring intently at the caravan as it passes.
Then as the last wagon rolls by, he catches sight of another flare out of the corner of his eye. Just what is he up to? Looking around, he searches the crowd for anyone else who may have noticed. The people on the street appear to be engrossed in whatever they are doing and none look to have taken notice. After the last wagon and guards pass, they resume their progress toward the eastern gate. Another pair of disinterested guards stands watch at the gate as they pass through.
The eastern road is much more crowded than the one on the other side, probably owing to the fact the western road leads in the general vicinity of Korazan. And with what’s going on there, none wish to risk an encounter with the enemy.
Dying to ask James what he was doing but unable to do so due to the other travelers on the road, Jiron remains silent until they come to a stretch of road devoid of other travelers. Coming to ride next to his horse, Jiron asks, “What did you do back there?”
“What do you mean?” James replies innocently.
“I saw what you did with those wagons,” he states.
James flashes him a grin. “Oh that. Just something I thought of back at The Ranch.”
“What?” he asks.
James shakes his head and nods toward where Jared is riding. Understanding comes to Jiron that he doesn’t want to talk about it in front of Jared. Nodding, he stops the questioning and turns his attention back to the road ahead.
Throughout the rest of the day whenever they ride past a caravan, whether it was going in their direction or not, Jiron would catch red flares flashing briefly beneath one, two, or sometimes even three of the wagons. He would glance to James only to receive a grin in return.
When the sun reaches the horizon and no inn has made an appearance, they decide to pull off the road and make camp. The cool of the evening is a welcoming relief from the heat of the day. Now that it’s summer, the days are nigh on unbearably hot.
After they’ve finished eating and are sitting around the fire, the sound of a horse comes from the road. In the light from the stars overhead, they make out the silhouette of the rider coming in their direction. Jiron nods to Jared to be ready to deal with whoever is approaching.
Jared gets to his feet about the time the rider reaches the fringe of the light cast by their campfire. It’s a man and doesn’t look to be military in nature. He brings his horse to a halt and asks a question.
Coming forward, Jared replies to the man.
Whatever he said didn’t sit too well with him, the smile that was on the man’s face quickly disappears. His eyes dart to where James is sitting and then he unconsciously licks his lips in nervousness.
Jared pauses in what he was saying a moment and when nothing further is forthcoming from the man, says one final thing. Whatever he said was more than the man could take. Turning his horse around quickly, the man kicks his horse into a fast trot as he leaves their campfire.
After the man disappears in the night and the sound of his horse’s hooves can no longer be heard, James asks, “What did you tell him?”
“That you were a servant of Dmon-Li,” he explains with a grin.