The Star of Morcyth: The Morcyth Saga Book Five (39 page)

James glances over to Jiron and sees him
longing to go over and examine the knives. If only they had the
money they would stop and get him a couple. Then suddenly a memory
surfaces, one from early on when he first came to this world.

It was shortly after leaving Trendle that
first time, two men were being robbed and he helped fight off the
thief.
“Well James, if you’re ever in Illion, you’re welcome to
our hospitality,” one of the men had said. “We own and operate an
iron mine and smelter. Maybe you’ve heard of us, Renlon’s
Iron?”

Turning to Jiron he says, “I may have an
idea.” Stopping near a boy on the street he gets his attention and
asks, “Could you tell me where I might find Renlon’s Iron?”

The boy gazes at him a moment and then
points off down to another main street which branches off the one
they’re on. “Turn down there and you’ll find it at the edge of
town,” he says.

“Thanks,” replies James.

Just as he’s about to leave, the boy asks,
“Don’t I get something for telling you?”

“I’m a bit short right now,” he says.
“Sorry.”

“Sorry yourself,” the boy says derisively.
When Jiron makes to move in his direction the lad runs off into the
crowd and is gone.

“You didn’t have to scare him,” rebukes
James.

“I know,” replies Jiron as he turns to
glance at James. When no further comment is forthcoming, they make
their way to the intersection and turn into the lane the boy had
indicated. At the edge of town when the street comes to an end,
they find a large complex of smelters with smokestacks belching
black smoke.

A man is loitering around one of the
buildings and James rides over to him. “Where might I find the
owners of Renlon’s Iron?” he asks.

Indicating a building near the center of the
complex, he says, “Most of the time you can find them in
there.”

James gives him a nod and replies, “Thanks.”
Leaving the man behind, they work their way through the complex
until they come to the indicated building where James dismounts.
“You stay here with the horses and I’ll see if they’re inside,” he
tells Jiron.

Nodding, Jiron remains on his horse as James
enters through the front door.

Inside he finds an office with several
tables and many shelves lined with books. Behind one is the older
gentleman from before. He looks up from where he was making
notations on a piece of paper and sees him walk in. “Can I help
you?” he asks. Then suddenly his face lights up as he recognizes
him. Coming to his feet, he moves around the desk and asks, “James
right?” Holding out his hand, he gives James a vigorous shake.

“That’s right,” he replies. “I wasn’t sure
if you were going to remember me.”

“After what you did it would be hard to
forget you. Here, take a seat,” he says as he gestures to one next
to the desk. As James takes a seat he props himself on the edge of
his desk. “So what brings you around these parts?”

“Actually I was hoping you could help me
with something,” he says.

“If I can I will,” he assures him. “What do
you need?”

James explains to him in brief detail the
robbery and subsequent chase leaving out the parts concerning the
Empire and his magic. Once he’s done, he finishes by saying, “So
you see, I believe they may have sold our horses somewhere here in
Illion along with our other belongings. You wouldn’t happen to know
of anyone who might deal in stolen goods do you?”

Sitting back on the desk, he contemplates
for a moment. Then the rear door opens and his son comes in.
Stopping just inside the door when he sees his father talking with
James, he breaks into a smile and comes forward. “So, you decided
to take advantage of our hospitality after all?” he asks.

“In a way,” James replies.

Glancing to his son, his father fills him in
on James’ plight. Father and son exchange glances for a moment and
then the son says, “You might try Orlander.”

“Orlander?” he asks. “Who is that and where
can I find him?”

Nodding, the father turns to James and says,
“He’s a bad one, into all the less than honest dealings which go on
around here. He runs a tavern on the other side of town. You can’t
miss it, it looks shoddy and in ill repair.”

“If your stuff is with him, you best just
leave it be,” the son warns. “Those who cross him tend to end up
dead.”

“We’ll see,” says James. “I appreciate your
help in this. Thank you.”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do to
help?” the father asks as James makes to leave. “We owe you a
lot.”

Pausing, James glances back to them and
says, “Well…”

He finds Jiron still on his horse when he
exits the office. The father and son come out with him to bid him
goodbye. Walking up to his friend, he hands him a bundle wrapped in
cloth.

“What’s this?” Jiron asks as he takes the
bundle. When James doesn’t say anything he unwraps it and finds a
belt with two exceptionally fashioned knives. “Oh my!” he says as
he pulls one from out of its sheath. Holding it up, he tests it for
balance and sights down the blade as he checks for straightness.
The craftsmanship is exceptional and the balance is the best he’s
ever felt.

“Where did you get these?” he asks,
replacing the knife in its sheath.

“A present from some friends of his,” the
father replies. “For services rendered.”

“Thank you,” he says. Removing his old belt
which had held his now lost knives, he discards it and secures the
new one around his waist. Once it’s secured tightly, he quickly
draws both knives and in a blur of speed, they dance around him
briefly before being returned to their sheathes. “Excellent,” he
says glancing to the two men. “Absolutely excellent.”

“They were made by a master weaponsmith some
time ago,” the son explains. “They were to be a gift but the person
died before we were able to give it to him.”

“You may need them where you’re going,” the
father states.

“What?” he asks.

“I’ll explain as we ride,” James says as he
mounts. Turning to the father and son he says, “Thank you for all
the help. It’s much appreciated.”

“You’re welcome,” the father says.

“Stop by again if you’re able,” the son
says.

“Will do,” replies James as he and Jiron
turn their horses and begin making their way from the Renlon’s
complex. After leaving it behind, he glances over to Jiron and pats
a bulge in his shirt. “They also gave us some traveling money,” he
says.

“Oh?” asks Jiron hopefully.

“Don’t be getting too excited, it’s only
about a gold’s worth,” he explains.

“That should at least last a few days on the
road,” he says.

Nodding, James returns his attention to the
crowded street as they maneuver their way through the people.
Making their way across town to where this Orlander’s tavern lies,
they eventually see a building exactly as the Renlon’s had
described, rundown and looking about to fall apart at the
seams.

Outside are several individuals whom James
wouldn’t want to meet up with on the wrong side of a knife in some
dark alley. They all look like thugs who would just as soon kill
you as look at you. When they near, he signals Jiron to continue
down the street. After putting some distance between them and the
tavern Jiron asks, “Why didn’t we stop?”

“I didn’t think our horses would still be
there when we came out,” he explains.

“Good thinking.”

Finding a reputable business, a chandler’s
shop by the look of it, they come to a stop and secure their horses
among two others already tied there. “We going back?” asks
Jiron.

“You bet,” replies James. “If he has our
stuff, I mean to recover it.”

They begin walking back and Jiron says, “It
could get nasty.”

Sighing, James asks, “You got a better
idea?”

Shaking his head, he replies, “No.”

“Hopefully he’ll listen to reason,” James
says wistfully.

“Doubt it,” Jiron replies confidently.

One way or another, he has to retrieve that
medallion, not to mention the other one he found in the underground
temple. Jiron’s necklace designating him a Shynti was also taken.
If nothing else, those three things must be recovered.

Approaching the thugs outside the
dilapidated tavern, they’re stopped by one of them before reaching
the door. “What do you guys want here?” the thug asks. Standing
there blocking their way with a sword on one hip and red hair
waving in the slight breeze, James thinks he must really think he’s
something.

“Want to talk with Orlander,” he says coming
to a stop.

At that the others edge their way closer to
the pair. “What for?” the red haired thug asks.

“That’s between me and him,” James says with
finality. He stares down the man with courage he didn’t realize he
had. Before coming to this world he would’ve been a quivering mass
of jelly if someone had confronted him like this. Amazed at the
backbone he’s acquired he takes a step forward.

The thug stops him by placing his hand on
his chest and says, “You ain’t getting in.”

Jiron starts to move to take out this man
when James holds up his hand to forestall any violence. Looking
into the thug’s eyes he says, “Either remove your hand or lose
it.”

In the face of such calm certainty the thug
hesitates a moment and then removes his hand. “Thank you,” he says
as he begins to move forward.

Shhhhht!

Five swords leave their sheathes as the
thugs draw their weapons. “Now I said you ain’t getting’ in and I
meant it,” the red haired thug reiterates as he threatens them with
his sword. The other four are close and their swords are less than
a foot away.

Frustration and anger begins to get the
better of him and he’s about to let loose the power when the door
to the tavern opens. “What’s going on here?” a large balding man
says as he steps out. This has to be Orlander. Big, scars covering
most of his exposed skin, and an air of command no one can
ignore.

“These fellows wanted to see you,” the red
haired thug says.

“About what?” he asks.

“They wouldn’t tell me,” the red haired thug
replies.

“What is this about?” Orlander asks.

“I’ll tell that to you inside when things
are less public,” replies James.

Orlander considers it a moment and nods.
“Very well,” he says as he returns inside the tavern.

James takes a step forward and ‘Red’ has to
step aside to prevent from being walked into. Not even looking back
at them, he follows Orlander inside.

The inside looks just like every other
tavern except the clientele is a little more tougher looking. Seven
people are seated at the various tables, four of whom are having a
game of cards off to the side. One is seated on a stool by the bar
with a loaded crossbow laid across his lap, most likely in case of
trouble.

Following Orlander across the barroom, James
feels the eyes of everyone in the room upon him. Ahead of him
Orlander reaches a door on the far side and opens it. Passing
through, he leaves it open for them to follow.

Two men with crossbows and another with two
swords strapped to his back are already in the room as he enters
and takes his seat behind a desk situated against the far wall.
After James and Jiron enter, the man with the swords closes the
door and takes position behind them.

“Now,” Orlander says, “what is all this
about?”

“We’re here to recover some items which were
stolen from us,” he says.

One of the three other men in the room
chuckles at that and Orlander gets an amused expression on his
face. “What makes you gentlemen think I would have anything to do
about that?”

“Word on the street is that you would be the
man to see about such things,” Jiron states.

“I have been known to expedite the return of
certain articles,” he tells them, “for a price.”

“So you might be able to help us?” James
asks.

“First I would need to know of what you are
talking about,” he says.

“Two people, a man and a woman robbed me and
my friends a few days ago,” James explains. “They took off with our
horses and many of our valuables. We know they passed through
Illion and left with less than they arrived with. The only items
which we are truly interested in are three necklaces.”

Nodding, Orlander says, “It seems I recall
such a pair passing through. Don’t know as what they may or may not
have liquidated here in Illion. If those items were to turn up,
say, what would you be willing to pay for their return?”

“What do you mean?” James asks.

“I mean,” clarifies Orlander, “how much gold
would you be willing to give me to expedite their return?”

“We don’t have much on us right now I’m
afraid,” admits James.

“Then why should I even bother with you?” he
asks. Snickers can be heard coming from those around them.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” James
tells him.

Breaking out into a laugh, he says, “Get
them out of here.”

“Let’s go,” the man with the swords says as
he lays a hand on Jiron’s shoulder.

Spinning around fast, Jiron knocks the man’s
hand off as the men with the crossbows take aim.

“We should leave,” James says to him. Then
in a barely audible whisper he says, “Later.”

Swallowing his anger, Jiron backs down and
the man with the swords gives him a grin and then precedes them
from the room.

Following him across the barroom, they move
to the door and are escorted outside. “Don’t come back unless you
have gold,” the man says.

‘Red’ is there looking at them and their
eyes lock for just a moment before James turns. Then he and Jiron
move off down the street.

Once they’re out of earshot, Jiron asks,
“Why didn’t we do anything?”

“I wasn’t sure if he had them or not,” he
says. “I can’t just go around and indiscriminately kill everyone
who crosses my path.”