Shades of the Past_ Book Six of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [13]
By means both devious and bordering on the unbelievable, they saved the man, won his trust and had the chance to become his lieutenants in the organization he was creating, but instead passed it over in favor of the fight pits which they had heard about and were interested in joining.
“I don’t seem to recall anything like that going on,” Jiron says as they finally wind down. You can say a lot about their stories, but dull and uneventful are not among them.
“Of course not,” Scar says. “This was before we met.”
“That’s right,” adds Potbelly. “It’s not like events concerning this sort of thing are talked about. These sorts of people don’t take kindly to their affairs becoming public knowledge.”
“That was the biggest piece of trash I ever heard!” Jorry says from where he sits across the fire from the pair. Uther nods in agreement.
“True or not,” Illan says as he gets to his feet, “it’s time for us to turn in. We still have many days ahead of us before we reach Lythylla.”
As everyone but those pulling sentry duty begins turning in, the two pairs eye each other with silent intensity. It seems a rivalry has begun between them and things, not to mention tales, are bound to get more outlandish.
James heads for his tent and can hear Uther say to Jorry, in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone, “You’d think if they were going to make up a story, they should at least make it entertaining.” Rolling his eyes heavenward, he enters his tent and gets ready for bed.
Lying upon the cot, he stares at the roof of his tent as a smile plays across his face. If nothing else, at least things won’t get boring.
The grass covered rolling hills extend ahead of him until they disappear in the horizon. A beautiful day, sun high in a crystal blue sky, the odd fluffy white cloud drifting by. The scent of wildflowers is borne upon the breeze as it brings a welcoming coolness to the heat of the day.
Small animals race by as he walks, seemingly completely unconcerned by his passing. A deer, or something very similar actually comes right up to him. He reaches out his hand and it allows him to stroke its neck before darting off.
A sense of peace and tranquility fills him as he walks through the grass. He doesn’t walk long before the sound of a carnival reaches him. Scanning the horizon, he can see the top of the Ferris wheel behind a hill off to his right. Intrigued, he turns in that direction and hurries along.
Topping the rise behind which the carnival hides, he sees a sight he’s seen played out many times before. Whenever spring and summer come, so did the carnivals and fairs. This one is just like all the others, carnies working the crowds, enticing them to either buy or play one of the overpriced games.
A smile comes to him as he walks down the hill. The sights, the smells, all remind him of home. Off to one side he sees his favorite amusement park treat in all the world. Cotton Candy. Oh man does he love that. Of course it has to be the pink variety, none other is nearly as good. Reaching into his pocket for money, he realizes he didn’t bring any. All that he produces is a single ride ticket, good for any of the rides. Saddened by being unable to buy the cotton candy, he still walks his way through the midway enjoying the sights and sounds.
It suddenly occurs to him that he is the only one there other than the carnies. He stops in his tracks and gazes around but no one other than himself is there. At least he’ll not have to wait in line to use his ticket.
As he walks along, he looks at all the different rides available to him. Of course there’s the roller coaster, the funhouse and the inevitable carousel. What would a carnival be without one of those?
“One ticket!” cries out the carnie in charge of the carousel. “One ticket is all it takes.”
Shaking his head, James says, “No thanks.