The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [145]
“Why does he want a bath?” he hears Reilin asks Jiron.
Then he hears Jiron chuckle. “He doesn’t,” he explains. “You’ll soon find that he uses many expressions that say one thing and mean something entirely different. This one means he has to…” The rest of what Jiron says to Reilin is lost in the buzz of the common room as he moves closer to Perrilin.
Perrilin notices him moving toward him and as their paths cross, he gives him a slight shake of the head and mumbles, “Afterward, outside.” Without even pausing he continues to the back and passes through the door into the kitchen.
Likewise, James continues on to his supposed destination and leaves the common room. He then makes his way to the outhouse out back. Nasty things outhouses, this is one of the things about this world he will never get used to. Back home, the odd time when he had to use similar facilities, such as when he was camping, had been a novelty. Now it’s just plain disgusting.
When he finally returns to the common room, Perrilin has yet to make his appearance again. As he takes his seat, Jiron leans forward and indicates two fellows sitting off to one side. “Do they look familiar to you?” he asks.
Looking to where he’s pointing, he sees the two men in question. “Yes, they do,” he replies. They are the two slavers Reilin had talked with just before they left the slaver’s compound. They take notice of the fact that they are being watched and their expressions turn dark.
“Hope they try something,” Jiron says.
“Here?” Reilin asks. “I doubt it.”
“Why would they?” asks James. “They may hate us and would like nothing better to make us slaves, but even men such as them are constrained by society’s laws.”
“I have found that some men don’t care a whole lot about ‘society’s laws’,” Jiron states.
“So have I,” agrees Reilin.
Just then, Perrilin makes his appearance from the kitchen and works his way through to the stage. When he reaches the stage, he picks up his instrument and gazes at the audience. He calls for any requests and the crowd shouts back the names of their favorite pieces.
Settling on one, he takes his seat and begins a long love ballad filled with tragedy, death, but ultimately ends in happiness. When he’s done, he calls for another request and continues to play requests for another hour or so. Despite the lateness of the hour, the common room remains full. None apparently wish to miss out on even one song that Kir might play.
Then there comes a time when he begins strumming his instrument and announces that this will be his last song of the evening. Several people shout out protests, more an imploring for him to continue than anything else. But he shakes his head and says that this must be his last song. Then he launches into a lively one that the crowd must know well for many begin thumping the table. At the chorus, some of the crowd joins in and before the song comes to an end, the whole common room is singing the chorus.
At the end of the song, the common room erupts into a wild display as people rise and give him a thunderous applause. Coins fly to the stage, hardly any landing in the vicinity of the bowl, and Perrilin bows to them twice.
As he begins to pick up the coins, the patrons start to leave. Most make it a point to come to him and exchange words or pat him on the back. It’s clear that he is a favorite around here and that for many, this isn’t the first time they’ve been here to hear him play.
“Can we go now?” asks Jiron. “Whoever your Mr. Mysterious is, he isn’t going to show.”
Standing up, James nods his head. Then with a final look over to where Perrilin is collecting the coins people threw, he follows Jiron outside. The mood of those who had experienced Perrilin’s performance can only be called exhilarated. Outside, they hear many animated conversations between those who have seen him before and others who had not. It doesn’t take