“What do you mean he’s gone?” Jiron exclaims after James gives him the news of Tinok’s disappearance.
“He’s gone,” James tells him again. “Sometime last night, he must’ve saddled a horse and taken off.”
“And no one heard him?” he asks, looking around at everyone.
They all shake their heads indicating they hadn’t.
“We must go after him!” he says.
“No, we shouldn’t,” Delia tells him. She grabs him by the arm and stares him straight in the eye as she continues. “With the wagons we will never be able to catch up with him. And if we abandon them, we lose the reason we’re in the Empire.”
He looks at her in anguish and she says softly, “Let him go, you have more immediate concerns.”
“Like what?” he cries.
Pointing to his sister she says, “Like her.”
Defeated, he nods his head acknowledging she’s right. “Let’s get the horses hitched up and get out of here,” he says miserably. He climbs to the top of one of the nearby hills and turns toward the desert, standing there as he looks out across the rolling, desolate hills. “Tinok!” he yells as his eyes scan the horizon. “Tinok!”
Nothing, dejected at the loss of his friend, he climbs back down and helps the others with getting the caravan ready for the road.
“He’ll be okay,” offers Yorn as he comes up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” adds Scar, “he’s a tough one, he is.”
He turns and looks into the faces of his friends and says, “Thanks.” Then he turns back and finishes saddling his horse.
It’s a somber group that heads down the road this morning. Each remembers the fallen in their own way.
“Remember when Qynn was going up against that sailor who thought he was hot stuff?” Potbelly suddenly says, breaking up the silence.
“Yeah,” Stig replies, chuckling, “the guy thought that Qynn was going to be easy pickings.” Laughing, he continues, “He sure made him respect the quarterstaff that day.”
“I remember,” adds Scar, nodding. Then breaking into a smile, he says, “Remember that tune he would always hum as he was whacking someone to its beat?”
Laughing, Potbelly exclaims, “And how he started doing that stupid dance, making the poor guy even more humiliated!”
Everyone from the pits starts laughing at that, James looks over and can see the beginnings of a grin appear on Jiron’s face.
After several more stories of Qynn’s antics in the pits, the mood is lifted somewhat. Apparently, he had been quite the clown at times.
A little past noon they leave the foothills and are once again in flat desert. The river curves to the south, as does the road and after another two hours they begin approaching another sizeable city. From a fellow traveler on the road they learn its name is Morac.
Even though it’s not getting dark yet, they decide to stop for the night here. Pulling to the northeast of town, they find a suitable spot for a camp and proceed to arrange the wagons and picket the horses for the night.
Delia says to James, “I’m going to take Scar and Potbelly with me to deliver a couple packages. Roland too.”
“Alright,” he says, “just be careful.”
“I will,” she assures him.
Once the others are aboard the wagon, she turns it and begins rolling on into town. In the course of her deliveries, she comes across a temple to Coryntia, The Hooded Lady. If you light a candle in one of her temples after a loved one’s passing, it’s said that she will help them to find their way to the afterlife and not be stranded or lost along the way.
She pulls up to it and tells them, “I’ll just be a moment.” Getting down from the wagon, she goes inside the temple and approaches a table with many candles. Sitting in the middle of the candles is a single silver bowl. Placing a coin into the bowl, she takes a candle and carries it over to where a statue of a veiled woman stands. A couple candles are already lit there at her feet and she lights hers from one of the ones already burning, before placing it alongside them. Kneeling down, she says a prayer for Cassie, that she will find her way.
After several moments, she gets up and turns as she walks back toward the exit. Once outside, she climbs back aboard the wagon and then continues on with her deliveries.
Jiron has been moping around the camp ever since Delia left, hurt that Tinok ran out on him. Tersa comes over to James and asks, “What should we do?”
“About what?”
“About Jiron,” she says as she gestures toward him. “I don’t like seeing him like this.”
“Not much we can do other than just be here for him,” he replies. “He’ll work it out on his own, all we can do is to simply allow him the time to do it.”
“I suppose,” she says, not entirely happy. “But I feel so helpless.”
“I know,” he assures her.
Yorn comes over and joins the conversation, “When the others return, we’re going to take him to get drunk.”
“Why?” she asks.
“To help him forget about things for awhile,” he replies. To James he asks, “You want to come?”
“No, I’m not into that sort of thing,” he tells him.
“Your loss,” he says as he wanders back to the others.
From the wagon where Ezra and Arkie are, they can hear poor little Arkie crying. “He misses her,” Tersa says. “She always played with him after we stopped.”
“We all do,” he admits, “she was special.”
A little while later, when Yorn sees Delia approaching, he grabs Jiron and the pit fighters all head into town. They pause momentarily at the wagon and soon Scar and Potbelly join the group as it continues on its way.
When Delia gets to the camp, she asks James, “Where are they going?”
“To get drunk,” he explains, “at least that’s what Yorn said.”
“Hope they don’t get into any trouble,” she states as she watches them go.
The first place they find is an old tavern with questionable clientele. Walking in, they see the mangiest group of derelicts this side of the gutter. “Perfect!” announces Scar as they sit at a large table off to one side.
A woman with a small beard and a patch over one eye comes up to them and says something that none can understand. Despite the language barrier, they finally make her understand that they want drinks. She brings them over several bottles of a foul smelling concoction that makes their eyes bug out and slightly burns as it goes down.
“Like mother’s milk,” Potbelly squeaks out after downing a large swallow.
“I hope they’re not trying to poison us,” Scar says as the liquid burns its way down to his stomach.
They sit there and drink for awhile, trading tales both true and improbable when a group of tough looking men walk into the tavern. They see them sitting at the table and walk over toward them. When they reach the table, one of them says something belligerently to them, which of course no one understands. Their failure to respond only makes him all the madder.
“What do you suppose is wrong?” Shorty asks.
A man sitting at a table next to theirs says, “You’re sitting at their table and they want you out.”
Jiron looks at the spokesman for the group and he says, “No, you find your own table. This one’s ours.”
Even though he couldn’t understand the words, he understood the meaning behind them. The man suddenly reaches out and grabs Jiron by the shirt as he starts hauling him out of his chair.
Jiron stands up while at the same time swinging his fist with all his strength and connects with the man’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward several feet into his fellows.
Then pandemonium erupts as one of the man’s friends takes a swing at Jiron and both sides join the fray.
“For Tinok!” Scar yells as he trades blows with a large individual, finally sending him to the floor with two quick blows to the stomach and then one to the face, breaking his nose. Turning, he sees Shorty being tossed through the air where he hits the wall with a thud.
The other tavern’s patrons quickly make for the sides of the room or out the door to avoid becoming embroiled in the fighting. Some join in, those who always enjoy a good fight no matter the reason.
The fighting remains fairly even until the town watch shows up. When Potbelly sees them enter he yells, “The town watch!” They all turn to see a dozen uniformed men entering wielding clubs, which they use to start felling brawlers.
Trading a few more blows, they turn and race to the other side of the tavern where they dive through the windows or run out the door into a side alley, to avoid being taken in. A quick survey shows them all there and then they race down the alley.
“Man that was a good fight!” exclaims Yorn, wiping blood away from his nose.
“Just what I needed,” Jiron adds, smiling.
Stig says, “I think one of my teeth are loose,” as he wiggles one.
Walking down a little further, they find another tavern where they’re able to resume their drinking once more. An hour passes and they’re beginning to get fairly drunk, having a grand time. A girl comes over to them and asks, “So, are you boys new in town?”
“Yeah,” Stig replies as she makes herself comfortable on his lap, “just passing through.” He places his arms around her as she leans against his chest.
“I’ve got some friends who would like some company tonight,” she says sultrily and she runs her fingers through Stig’s hairy chest. “If you feel up to it of course.”
“How many friends do you have?” Potbelly asks.
“Oh, more than enough to satisfy you, I’m sure,” she assures him.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Scar says, grabbing the bottle and then getting up from the table.
She gets up off Stig’s lap and leads them out of the tavern.
James paces by the fire, Where are they! Everyone else has already fallen asleep and it’s well past midnight. Probably passed out in the street somewhere. Having to know, he takes the mirror out of his shaving kit and concentrates on Jiron as he gazes into it.
Slowly, Jiron’s image begins to appear and at first it looks like he has in fact passed out somewhere. Broadening the image, he realizes they’re not passed out, but tied up and lying on a dirt floor. He can see the others lying next to him, some are struggling trying to loosen their bonds.
Damn! What did they get themselves into now? Unable to see much more, he puts the mirror away and goes over to wake up Roland.
He gently places a hand on Roland’s arm and gently shakes him.
“What?” Roland says groggily as he wakes up.
“We got trouble,” James whispers to him, trying not to awaken Ezra who’s lying next to him.
Sitting up abruptly, he looks around the camp but doesn’t see anything. “What trouble?” he asks.
“Not here, in town,” he explains. “The guys are in trouble and we need to go get them.”
Roland gets up, gently disengaging himself from Ezra and then goes over to the remnants of the fire with James.
“What happened to them?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” he says and then explains to Roland what he saw in the mirror. “But we better do something.”
“I agree,” Roland says once he understands their predicament.
James goes over and wakes up Delia, explaining the situation to her so she won’t worry if she were to wake and find them gone. Then he and Roland head into town to try and locate them. James makes sure that he has the belt with his slugs around his waist just in case.
“How are we going to find them?” Roland asks as they enter the town.
He moves over to a side alley and then glances around to make sure no one is watching. “Watch,” he tells him as he lets the magic flow and a shimmering, transparent bubble forms in the air before them. In the dark of the alley it’s almost impossible to see unless you know what to look for. “I’ve been working on this the last couple of days,” he says. “Thought it might come in handy in finding Miko when we finally catch up with him.”
“Amazing,” Roland says as he reaches out his hand to touch it.
“Don’t,” says James as he lays his hand on Roland’s arm. “It would most likely disappear if you do.”
Taking his hand back, he says, “Sorry.”
The bubble begins to float away as it leads them in Jiron’s direction. Several times it floats past people on the streets, but in the dark, they fail to notice it. Whenever James loses sight of it, he has it flash a very dim light until he once again spots it and is able to follow.
It takes them through the city, all the way to the other side, where it comes to rest near the door to an old house with a single light emanating from an upstairs window. The bubble starts to dimly flash in the dark.
“They’re in there,” he tells Roland as he cancels the spell.
“Now what?” he asks.
As James approaches the door, he says, “We knock and ask for them back.”
“What if they don’t admit they’re here?” he asks nervously.
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to insist,” he says as he knocks loudly upon the door. When there’s no answer, he pounds a little harder.
From the other side they hear footsteps approach and the door opens a crack. A little old lady sticks her head out, “Yes?”
“Good evening ma’am,” James says, somewhat surprised to see such a harmless woman here. “I’m sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night, but I have reason to believe that some friends of mine are here.”
“There’s no one here but me,” she says.
From a window upstairs, Roland sees a shadow move across it. “Someone’s upstairs,” he whispers to James.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you if I can come in to see for myself,” he tells her.
“I’m not letting you into my home!” she says sternly as she starts to close the door.
James kicks out with his foot, causing the door to swing open and accidentally knocks the little old lady to the floor where she begins calling for help.
Coming in quickly, they shut the door and James says, “Gag her and tie her up so she’ll be quiet.”
Roland stuffs her mouth with a rag lying on a nearby table and then proceeds to tie her hands behind her back. “Sorry ma’am,” he tells her, feeling bad about doing this to an old woman.
Hearing a creak, James turns to see a younger woman standing on the stairs to the second floor. She has a crossbow armed and aimed directly at him. “Release my mother,” she commands.
James concentrates on the crossbow and the wire snaps, rendering it useless. “Come here,” he says to her, motioning for her to come down into the room.
“How did you do that?” she asks, fear in her eyes.
“A little trick I picked up,” he tells her. “Now, come here!” he says sternly.
When she hesitates, he says, “We have your mother, don’t make this difficult. I only want my friends back.”
As she comes into the room, fear in her eyes, she asks, “What are you going to do with us?”
“That depends on how helpful you are,” he tells her. Seeing that Roland has the mother secured, he indicates the daughter and says, “Sit her down by her mother.”
Nodding his head, Roland comes over to where she’s standing and takes hold of her arm and brings her over, sitting her down on the floor near her mother.
“Now, where are my friends?” James asks her.
Defeated, she says, “Downstairs in the basement.” She indicates a door under the stairs she had been standing on earlier.
He crosses the room and opens the door. He’s greeted by the smell of alcohol coming from below. Glancing over to Roland he says, “Keep an eye on them.” When he sees Roland’s nod, his glowing orb appears in his hand and he descends the stairs.
Upon reaching the bottom, he finds them lying there in the middle of the basement floor, tied up and helpless. “Well, well, what have we here?” he asks as he makes his way over to them.
“Glad to see you,” Jiron says.
Scar asks, “Man, how did you find us?”
James takes out his knife and cuts through the rope as he frees Jiron. “Take care of the others, I’ll be upstairs,” he tells him and moves to return up the stairs.
Over on a side table are their weapons, Jiron goes over and retrieves his knives before beginning to cut through Scar’s bonds.
When he leaves the stairwell and rejoins Roland with the ladies he asks, “Now, just what were you going to do with them?”
“Sell their weapons and them to slavers,” she admits.
“Done this before?” he asks.
“Couple of times,” she admits, ashamed. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a woman alone here, without a man,” she cries. “If we didn’t, my mother and I would lose everything and have to live on the streets.”
“No excuse,” he says to her. He turns as he hears footsteps coming up from the basement. Still inebriated, the guys are quite a sight as they stagger along. He smiles and shakes his head.
“What to do with you two,” he muses as he turns back to the women.
“Are you going to kill us?” the younger woman asks, fear in her voice.
“Should I?” he asks. “Or can we leave without anyone but us knowing what transpired here?”
“We won’t tell anyone!” she cries out. “We swear!” Her mother nods her head in agreement.
“Alright,” he tells her. “But if we hear about this from anyone else, I’ll be back. Understood?”
“Yes!” she cries, relief evident upon her face.
Turning to Roland, he says, “Let’s go.” He unties the younger woman and then helps the stumbling drunks out of the house. Being the last to leave, he gives the daughter one final, meaningful look and then closes the door.
With Roland’s help, he gets them moving in the right direction as they work their way through town. They finally meander their way back to camp where the drunks collapse and pass out.
“Everything go okay?” Delia asks when they arrive.
“We’re here aren’t we?” he asks her.
“What happened?” she asks.
Too tired to want to talk, he just says, “Tell you in the morning.” Lying down, he’s soon fast asleep.
The boozehounds all have incredible hangovers from the night before and not too surprisingly, most don’t remember being tied up in the basement. Jiron and Scar remember it somewhat, but mainly it’s all just a blur.
Smelling far worse than normal, James has them all go to the river, clothes and all and at least make an attempt to get the stink out.
While they’re gone to the river, he and the others work to get the caravan ready for travel before they return.
“You going to tell them what happened last night?” Roland asks James as they secure a team of horses in their traces.
Grinning, he says, “If I do, I’ll probably make up a bunch of stuff.”
Roland breaks out laughing and then they finish securing the horses to the wagon. Everything is set to go by the time they see them coming back toward the wagons, drenched and cold. With the heat of the day already beginning to rise, it won’t take long before it dries them out.
Sitting atop his horse, James watches and waits while they return and mount their horses. This day, Jiron is to drive the wagon while James gets to ride point. James is wearing his floppy hat that he bought back at Korazan to keep the sun off.
When everyone is ready, he takes the lead and soon they’re back on the road following the river south. After riding for several hours, an odd fog bank appears off to the east, several miles away. “Do you see that?” he asks Jiron when he pauses to allow the wagon to catch up with him.
Shielding his eyes against the glare, he replies, “Yeah, so?”
“I’ve never heard of there being fog in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the day,” he says. “Certainly not during summer, the heat should’ve burnt it off long ago.”
When Roland catches up to them, James asks him about it.
“I think it’s called the ‘Mists of Sorrow’,” he explains.
“Why do they call it that?” Jiron asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies. “I just heard someone passing through mention it once.”
By this time the whole caravan has stopped to see what’s going on. They all stare at the fog in the distance.
“What is it?” asks Shorty.
“We’re not sure,” Roland explains. “It might be the ‘Mists of Sorrow’.”
“Oh,” he says.
“We’re not getting anywhere by standing here gawking,” James says to everyone who’s gathered around him. They get back on their horses and wagons as he resumes riding to the south.
Throughout the rest of the day, the fog bank remains a permanent fixture on the horizon, they all can’t help but keep glancing at it from time to time. James notices how the traffic is all but nonexistent on this road. The few travelers they do encounter tend to be nonsocial, giving only short responses to greetings if they give any at all.
When the sun rides low in the sky, they stop for the night next to the river. Before the sun goes down, James looks to the east and can still see the fog bank sitting there, miles away.
The next morning, he’s shocked to discover the wall of fog had moved during the night. Now it’s no more than a half mile from the road. It easily extends fifty feet high and is so dense, you can’t see anything within it.
“Wow,” says Delia when she wakes up and joins him where he’s gazing at it. “Creepy.”
“You said it,” he agrees.
“Should we go check it out?” she asks.
Shaking his head, he says, “No, it makes me feel uneasy. Might be a good idea if we stayed away from it.”
Then suddenly, they see a shadow pass through it along the fringe, the density of the fog keeping them from getting a clear view of it. It was half the size of a horse and was running like a dog.
They look at each other and she asks, “What was that?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, “but I think we need to be moving.”
Waking everyone quickly, they set a new record in getting the caravan ready and moving down the road. With uneasy eyes on the fogbank, they make haste down the road. For the first couple miles the fog stays fairly close but then begins to recede again until it is once again several miles off in the distance. By the end of the day, they’re unable to see it any more, much to the relief of everyone.
Next morning, James looks to the east and is happy to still see no trace of the fog at all. After rolling down the road for two hours, they come to another town. A large congregation of people can be seen out in front of a two story building set a little ways into town.
As they come closer, they notice that the people are upset about something and are talking agitatedly among themselves. “Go see what’s going on,” James says to Roland.
Roland gives him a nod, climbs down off the wagon, and then walks over to the crowd of people. The others wait for him on the road.
James sees him moving through the crowd, talking to several different people until he finally begins to make his way back. “Well?” he asks as Roland returns.
“You’re not going to believe this,” he says. “Last night the garrison Sub-Commander was murdered.”
“So?” Jiron asks.
“He was murdered by a northerner,” he says, “and there were witnesses. Also, drawn in blood on his forehead, was a heart with two dots.” He turns to Jiron and says, “Sound familiar?”
“Cassie’s necklace?” Jiron replies. “It was a heart with two stones.”
“You mean Tinok did this?” Delia asks, not really believing it.
He turns to her, “It would appear so, but we have no real evidence, though the description of the murderer matches him fairly good.”
“What is he doing?” Jiron wonders, angry. “That fool’s going to get himself killed.” He turns to James, “He’s close, maybe we could find him and help him?”
“Let’s get a ways out of town and then I’ll look and see what I can discover,” he tells him.
Jiron nods his head and they follow the road as it passes through town. Once the town has disappeared behind them, they pull off the road and James takes out his mirror to attempt to locate him.
Settling down on the ground, he gazes into the mirror, concentrating on Tinok and then lets the magic flow. Tinok begins to appear in the mirror, he’s riding his horse fast across the desert.
“Where is he?” Jiron asks.
“I don’t know,” James says, “somewhere to the east, I think. The sun is too high for me to be able to tell for sure by the shadows.”
“How far away is he?” demands Jiron.
“I can’t tell that,” explains James.
“Damn him!” Jiron curses in frustration. He turns and stares out into the desert to the east, hoping beyond hope to be able to see him. “So close!”
Delia comes to him and says, “But he doesn’t want us to find him.”
“Why do you say that?” he shouts at her in anger. “Why wouldn’t he want to be with his friends?”
“I don’t know,” she replies, gently. “But if he did, he would be here.”
“He knows where we’re going,” Yorn tells him. “He can find us if he wants to.”
Potbelly comes over and says, “Sometimes, a man’s just got to work things out on his own. And a hurt like he’s had could take a long time, if ever.”
Jiron continues gazing out to the desert and then his head droops as he turns to walk back to his horse. “Let’s go,” he says to them despondently.