The Mists of Sorrow_ Book Seven of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [5]
At the gates the grizzled old timer Nerun, along with a squad of men, questions everyone who passes through. Their job is to see to it that no spies of the Empire enter the fortress.
“Illan’s giving us a send-off tonight in the main hall,” he tells her.
“I heard that,” she replies. “Seems he even dug up several musicians.”
“Probably just soldiers with some talent,” he guesses.
“We should get ready, it’s going to start soon,” she says. “That’s what I came up here to tell you.”
“Very well,” he says and then follows her down from the battlements.
Wounded are lying in rows across the courtyard. Fortunately for them, it hasn’t begun to rain yet and it doesn’t look as if it will for some time. James and Tersa are forced to make their way around pockets of wounded as they head for the main hall. Off to one side they see Miko with the Star healing a man with a bloody rag tied around his face. Brother Willim and the other two remaining members of the Hand are elsewhere in the courtyard helping others, green glows surround each of them.
“I’ll meet you inside,” he tells her.
“Okay,” she replies and then continues on toward the main hall.
Angling over toward Miko, he sees him still kneeling next to the man with the head injury. Just as he draws close, the glow from the Star winks out and Miko sighs. A healer who has been assisting him removes the bandage from his face to reveal a pink line where a jagged cut had been moments before.
Miko looks up at him with weary eyes.
Offering a hand, James helps him to his feet. “How much longer are you going to be?” he asks.
“As long as it takes,” he replies.
“You’re dead on your feet now,” states James. Glancing around at the wounded still waiting for Miko’s attention he says, “None of these men will die if you get some rest.”
“I know,” he says. “But I can shorten their recovery time and perhaps some will be able to have better lives because of what I do.”
James nods, he can understand where he’s coming from. “We’re leaving in the morning,” he tells him. “A quick ride north to see Tersa and the others safely to the border of Madoc then we set out in search of Tinok.”
Miko nods his head as he comes to a man who lost two fingers during the battle. The man’s comrade sitting on the ground next to him holds a blood soaked rag containing the severed digits. “I’ll be there,” he assures him.
“Get some rest if you can,” he suggests.
Taking the bloody rag containing the fingers, he turns to look at James and says, “No promises.” Then he removes the digits and has the man’s comrade hold them in place as the glow shines forth from the Star.
Leaving Miko to his healing, James heads toward the main hall. Jiron is standing on the steps having just witnessed him with Miko. “He’s not coming to the dinner?” he asks.
Shaking his head, James replies, “No. I doubt if I would in his place.” Glancing at Jiron he adds, “Some things are more important.”
“You got that right,” he agrees. Just like Miko, he’s torn between what he wants to do and what he must. Tinok or Tersa? A hard choice but Tersa won out even though he still agonizes over the decision. He simply could not let her and the others brave the trip through war torn Madoc by themselves. If something should happen, he never would have forgiven himself.
Side by side, the two friends pass through the archway leading to the main hall. As they enter the short hallway that goes from the archway to the main hall, music begins to play. Not great music, but at least the musicians are all on the same beat. Walking down the hallway, they approach the doors leading into the festivities.
Not a great many people were invited to the feast; the old time Raiders, the crew from The Ranch