The Star of Morcyth: The Morcyth Saga Book Five (7 page)

“I can’t believe you’re actually defending
him,” states Miko.

Getting a slightly angry look on his face,
Jiron says, “I’m not defending him, merely answering your question.
I don’t like him.”

“Neither do I,” admits Miko. “I try to get
along with him for James’ sake.”

“I know,” he says.

Knock! Knock!

“Come in,” hollers Jiron. James opens the
door, his friend Dave is standing in the hall behind him.

“We’re heading down for something to eat,”
he tells them. “You guys want to join us?”

“Sure,” says Miko as he heads for the
door.

“Be down in a minute,” replies Jiron.

“Alright,” says James as he steps aside to
allow Miko to pass into the hall. “See you in a bit.”

Illan and Fifer have just come out of their
room and they all go downstairs where they find a table large
enough for all of them. Several minutes later, Jiron joins
them.

They order their food and are soon enjoying
a meal of spiced ham, bread and assorted vegetables. A group of
four musicians take the stage and before long the room is filled
with rollicking music.

James sits back and enjoys himself,
listening to the musicians and watching them play their
instruments. From all around him, the buzz of conversation is
subdued as they all wish to hear and enjoy the music of the
musicians. From out of the buzz, one comment is overheard from a
man sitting just behind him.

“…hear the Empire’s ambassador is seen going
to the castle regularly the last few days.”

“I heard that too,” the other man at the
table says.

Turning around, James asks them, “Did you
just say there’s an ambassador from the Empire here?”

Somewhat taken aback at his interrupting
their conversation, one man says, “It isn’t polite listening in on
other people’s conversation.”

“How rude,” the other man says with an
annoyed expression.

“Sorry,” apologizes James and turns back to
his own table.

He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to
find one of the men looking at him. “But yes, there is an
ambassador from the Empire here, has been for a little over a
week.”

“That’s right,” says his friend, nodding in
agreement. “Why he’s here isn’t known though, but the popular rumor
is that they want us to join their fight with Madoc.”

His friend laughs at that, “Like that would
ever happen.”

“Thank you,” replies James.

The man nods his head and then resumes his
conversation with his friend, this time keeping their voices
slightly softer to avoid being overheard again.

Leaning close to Illan, he asks, “Did you
hear that?”

“Yes I did,” he says. “If you figure the
time it took the herald to reach The Ranch and how long it took us
to get here, then we could assume he was dispatched shortly after
the Ambassador’s arrival.”

“What could that mean?” asks James.

“Not sure,” he replies, “but you’ll find out
soon enough tomorrow.”

“I suppose,” states James. Out of the corner
of his eye, he sees Dave give out with a big yawn.

“Tired?” he asks his friend.

Nodding, Dave says, “I think I’ll head up
and go to sleep.”

Handing him the key, he says, “Alright, I
probably won’t be up for a couple of hours.”

“Don’t worry about me,” replies Dave. “I’ll
be dead to the world in a short while.”

As Dave leaves, Jiron watches him go with
some delight. “I thought I’d take Fifer and we would tour the bars
tonight and see what we could find out.”

“Not a bad idea,” agrees James. “See if you
can discover any more rumors regarding the Ambassador’s visit.”

“Will do,” states Jiron. Getting up, he
glances to Fifer and says, “Ready to go?”

“Always,” he says.

They move away from the table and head out
the door.

Illan, Miko and James remain at the table
late into the evening enjoying the music. Once he starts yawing,
James gets up and heads to his room where he hears Dave’s snores
coming from within before he even opens the door.

Getting undressed in the dark, he slips into
the other bed and quickly falls asleep.

Jiron and Fifer leave the Silver Bells and
head to the outer section of the city. There they’ll find the more
disreputable establishments where rumors flow more readily. Never
staying very long in any one place, they have a few drinks while
listening to the conversations around them. Once in awhile asking a
few discreet, innocent questions before moving to the next.

By the fifth such dive, they have
accumulated rumors ranging from an attempt to kidnap/assassinate
the king to an arranged marriage between one of the king’s
daughters and a noble within the Empire. All of which seems rather
implausible. The most improbable story yet is how the Empire is
here to open a slave market within Cardri where they can sell the
slaves taken in their war with Madoc. How that one started, no one
seems to know and few believe. One man said, ‘It’ll be a cold day
in hell before that ever happens’.

They wander outside the outer walls and plan
to hit some of the seediest places yet. The first one they enter
must have been standing a very long time. The walls are slightly
slanted and most of the windows are boarded up. The odor and
density of the smoke within makes it hard to breathe.

Moving to the bar, they order a couple
drinks and set about drinking as they take in the clientele. Most
are what Jiron would call sewer rats, little more than drunkards
and layabouts. The fact that they’re even in a place like this
tells him all he needs to know.

One man sitting at a table near them, who
only has one hand, catches Jiron glancing in his direction. That is
all the excuse he needs. Getting up from his chair, he moves toward
him and says, “I don’t like the way you’re staring at me!”

The other patrons perk up at that. “No
trouble tonight, Lonn,” says the barkeep from where he stands
behind the bar.

“I’m not looking for trouble, mister,” Jiron
says to him. “I apologize if I’ve bothered you in any way. I assure
you it was not my intention.”

“You think I don’t know what you’re thinking
about ol’ Lonn?” the man asks, anger beginning to build in voice.
“Poor ol’ Lonn. One handed he is and good for nothin’!”

Jiron can smell the liquor on his breath.
He’d like nothing better than to put Lonn on the floor, but he
doesn’t want to do anything that could come back to James. “I’m not
thinking anything like that,” he says, trying to diffuse the
situation. “Here,” he says as he produces a coin out of his pouch,
“let me buy you a drink.”

“I ain’t no drunk!” he says, now enraged.
Using his one good hand, he takes a swing at Jiron’s jaw.

Easily anticipating what Lonn was going to
do, he blocks the attack and follows through with a punch to the
jaw. The blow snaps his head backward and Lonn stumbles into a
table with three men. He smashes the table, tossing the men’s
drinks onto the floor, one which spills across one of the men’s
shirt in the process.

“Get them!” the man cries as he and his two
buddies launch themselves at Jiron and Fifer.

Fifer flashes a grin to Jiron as he moves to
meet the oncoming men. Both he and Jiron are veterans of the fight
clubs back in the City of Light and readily wade into the men. The
first man approaching Fifer soon finds himself lying on the floor
several feet away, blood running out of his nose from where Fifer
had connected with a roundhouse.

Jiron joins the fray as he deflects an
uppercut from one individual while striking out with his foot at
another. Fists and feet flying, he and Fifer mow them down quickly
and it’s over before it even begins.

Standing back to back, they look around at
the men lying on the floor groaning. When no others move to join
the fray, they relax and return to the bar to finish their
drinks.

“Sorry about that,” replies Jiron to the
barkeep behind the counter.

“That Lonn’s a hothead alright,” he says.
“You boys sure know how to handle yourselves.”

“Thanks,” says Fifer with a grin.

“Would you be interested in making a little
extra money on the side?” the barkeep asks.

Shrugging, Jiron replies, “Maybe, what do
you have in mind?”

“There’s this group of individuals who are
looking for someone to fight their champion,” he says. “They would
pay pretty well, whether you win or lose.”

“What kind of fight?” asks Jiron,
interested. “Fists or weapons?”

“If you fight with weapons, you get more,”
he says. “But you can choose either way.”

Jiron looks to Fifer who’s wearing a grin.
“When would this take place? I’m not sure how long we’ll be here,”
he tells him.

“Tomorrow night,” he says. “Would you boys
be interested?”

“Possibly,” says Jiron. “Where would the
fight take place?”

Gesturing behind him, he says, “Out back.
There’s a small lot behind us that’s fairly clear. We’ve held
fights like these out there from time to time.”

Nodding, Jiron says, “How much?”

“Weapons, you get a gold,” he says. “Just
fists, two silvers.”

“Win or lose?” he asks.

“Win or lose,” the barkeep replies.

Nodding, Jiron says, “Alright, I’ll do
it.”

“Great!” the barkeep says excitedly. “Just
two hours after sundown tomorrow night.”

“I’ll be here,” he says. Then glancing to
Fifer, he nods his head to the door as he begins making his way out
of the inn. Fifer downs his drink and moves to follow. Lonn and the
others are just now beginning to get up off the floor.

After they leave, Lonn gets up and moves
over to the barkeep who slides a silver across the counter to him.
“Thanks,” he says.

Picking up the coin, Lonn grins and says,
“Anytime.”

The following morning when they all meet
down in the common room for breakfast, Jiron and Fifer tell them of
the rumors they discovered the night before. They do not tell of
what transpired at the inn or the fight later in the evening. Jiron
told Fifer to keep quiet about that, he didn’t think James would
like it, much less approve.

“There was no mention of you from anyone we
talked to,” Fifer tells him. “Most of the rumors were really quite
farfetched. I don’t think anyone really knows what they’re doing
here.”

“Miko,” James says after mulling over what
they said for a few minutes, “you’re good on the streets. See if
you can find out what’s going on.”

“Will do,” he says, glad to be of help.

“What are you planning to do about going to
see the king?” Illan asks.

Before James has a chance to reply, Jiron
breaks in and says, “About that. The Royal Court convenes in the
afternoon, we did find out that much.”

“Afternoon?” muses James. “Good, maybe I’ll
be able to track down Ellinwyrd and see if he knows anything before
I go.”

“How are you going to do that?” asks
Jiron.

“Go to the gates to the castle area and
request an audience,” he explains. “Last time I was here he said I
could stop by anytime.”

“Want us to come with you?” asks Illan.

Shaking his head, he says, “No, I don’t
think that will be necessary. I doubt if anything’s about to happen
here.”

“Very well,” states Illan. “One of us will
always be here in case you need help.”

“Don’t worry,” James assures him.

After breakfast is over, Miko excuses
himself and leaves the inn as he goes to ferret out information on
the streets.

Dave gets up and says, “I think I’ll just
stay here at the inn in case you need me.”

“Good idea,” says Jiron and their eyes meet.
Jiron still carries a resentment toward him that manifests itself
every once in awhile.

Frowning, Dave turns and heads back up to
his room.

“I wish you would take it easy on him,”
James says to Jiron after Dave has left.

“I’ll try,” replies Jiron though from the
tone of his voice he isn’t planning on trying too hard.

“You have the letter the herald gave you?”
Illan asks.

Patting the pouch at his waist, he says,
“Right here.”

“Good, you’ll probably need it to get in to
see the Royal Court,” Illan advises.

“That’s what I figured.” Getting up, he says
his goodbyes. Waving a farewell to Miss Gilena, he heads for the
door and is soon out on the street. Moving toward the gates to the
castle area, he goes down several blocks and notices Miko standing
with a bunch of older youths near the side of a building. In his
hands is a bag of tarts which he is sharing with the others. James
just chuckles at that.
That’s one way to get the locals to open
up to you.
What amazes him is how he got them so fast.

The gates to the castle area are well
guarded and when he approaches, one of the guards comes forward and
asks him his business.

“I would like to talk to Ellinwyrd, the
Archive Custodian,” he tells the guard.

“Does he know you’re coming?” the guard
asks.

Shaking his head, he explains, “No. I
arrived into town last night and he told me that if I was ever in
the area to stop by.”

The guard looks him up and down, as if he’s
trying to assess the validity of what he just said. Motioning for
one of the junior guards to come over, he asks James, “What’s your
name and business with him?”

“My name is James,” he says. “I came through
some time ago and he was nice enough to help me with a bit of
research. My business I will explain to him.”

Looking to the junior guard, the first guard
says, “Go tell the Archive Custodian that James is here and would
like to speak with him.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard replies, then moves
through the gates and is soon out of sight.

The first guard stands there near James
while they wait. He has him move to the side to allow people to
pass through from one side to the other. None of the people passing
through look even vaguely familiar to him. Which isn’t very
surprising since he didn’t spend all that much time in this area
last time he was here.