The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [45]
Jiron nods. He remembers how well it had worked. But the cloth works fairly well, though it will most likely attract the attention of anyone close by when he uses it. After all, a cloth that all of a sudden rises and moves to point in a certain direction, who wouldn’t do a double-take if they saw that.
Sighing, James holds one end of the cloth in his hand and concentrates on which way Tinok lies. Letting the magic flow, he opens his eyes and watches as the cloth rises until it’s pointing in a rigid line. Based on the position of the sun, it’s pointing off to the south.
“We figured that,” says Jiron, James nods his head in agreement.
Stopping the spell, James returns the strip of cloth to his pouch.
“Wish it would tell us how far away he is,” Jiron says, and not for the first time.
“Maybe in a day or two I’ll get a better idea where he is,” James says hopefully. “Eventually we will be close enough for the mirror to pick him up.”
The others have finished their meal of dried beef and water. Brother Willim brings James and Jiron over a portion. “Did you find him?” he asks.
Shaking his head, Jiron replies, “No. He’s to the south, but James is unable to determine how far.”
“We’ll find him,” Brother Willim says matter-of-factly.
They eat their less than appetizing breakfast and then return to the saddle. In no time they are once again racing across the desert.
This section of the desert is uninhabited, its proximity to the border of Madoc probably accounts for most of the reason. Whatever the reason, James is glad they are able to move into the Empire without being noticed.
They ride for awhile when Shorty hollers out, “Rider to the east!”
Slowing down, they see a lone rider moving at a leisurely pace. The direction in which he’s moving will cause him to cross their path further to the south. “Should we see what he’s about?” asks Stig.
“No,” replies James. “The less who knows we’re here the better. Still, keep an eye on him.” It takes the rider several minutes before he’s even aware they are there. When he does, he immediately alters course to intercept. No longer moving at his leisurely pace, the rider is practically flying across the desert toward them.
“Damn,” curses James. “Reilin!” he hollers to the Raider who is there to translate for them. When he has his attention, he says, “Go see what he wants before he gets here.”
“Yes sir,” Reilin replies. Kicking his horse into a gallop, he moves to intercept the rider.
The rest of them continue along their original course while they keep an eye on Reilin and the other rider. By the time Reilin reaches the rider and they stop, the rider has come to within a hundred feet of the rest of them.
Before Reilin has a chance to say anything, the rider begins talking quickly. What’s being said is lost to the others but the rider is obviously agitated about something. Finally quieting down, the rider listens to Reilin for a moment before once again launching into another animated speech.
When it doesn’t look as if Reilin is getting rid of the man, James says, “Jiron, go see what’s taking so long.”
“Right.” Nudging his horse in the sides, he makes his way over and joins them. Reilin turns at his approach and the other rider grows silent again as Reilin talks to Jiron. Jiron asks a question and waits for the translation and then again for the rider’s answer.
By this time James has brought the others to a stop. Surprised it has taken this long, he pulls out a strip of dried beef and chews on it absentmindedly while he waits. He doesn’t have to wait long before Jiron leaves Reilin and the rider where they are and returns to the group.
“What’s going on?” James asks as he nears. The look on Jiron’s face says it’s anything but something simple.
“The man’s name is Zyrn,” he begins. “He’s a leader of