The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven (6 page)

Those who are leaving and moving on into
Cardri begin to disengage themselves from the others. The pit
fighters move to face the recruits as they gather near Delia.

“Now you be on your best behavior!” Scar
tells them.

“If you aren’t,” says Potbelly, “we’ll have
to come and thump you.”

“Leave them alone,” Delia says to them,
“they will be fine. A lot better than the last guards I had. They
were a bunch of drunken layabouts!”

Shorty laughs and says, “You take care.”

“I will,” she says and moves to give him a
hug.

Blushing, he sits there in the saddle and
hugs her back. Behind him, barely heard jeers and inappropriate
comments come from his friends.

Aleya gives Delia and Tersa both a big hug
goodbye.

Turning to the pit fighters, Delia says,
“You boys better be on your best behavior as well.” Nodding to
Aleya she adds, “If I hear of anyone being rude or belligerent
around her I’ll come back and do a little thumping of my own!”

“Yes ma’am,” Stig says with a serious
expression on his face which lasts all of a second before he breaks
into a grin.

“We better go or we’ll never get home,”
states Delia. To those not going with her she says, “You be careful
and bring Tinok home.” Then she turns her horse toward the Pass and
begins the last leg of the journey back to The Ranch. Tersa and the
recruits follow along behind.

Jiron sits there and waits until they
disappear further into the Pass then turns to James. “Ready?” he
asks.

Nodding, he says, “Let’s go find Tinok.”

They spread out in a search pattern not long
after leaving Abi Salim. In the dark they went slow as they kept a
close eye out for any of the others who might be lost in the dark.
By the time dawn comes, none of the young men have yet been
found.

“Zyrn, look,” one of the men who accompanies
him says. Pointing off to the south, he directs their attention to
a dozen wagons moving on an almost parallel course with them.

“They’re heading to the battlefield,” Zyrn
says. He knows those who are driving the wagons, they belong to a
town south of theirs. Not known for their sociability, Zyrn decides
to give them a wide berth. “If they are on the way to scavenge the
dead, they won’t act kindly to anyone who happens by.”

“Maybe they would help us look for the
others?” another suggests.

Shaking his head, Zyrn turns his attention
to the man and replies, “Not these people. They would just as soon
kill you as not.”

Just then, the men driving the wagons take
notice of Zyrn and his group. With a flick of the reins they race
forward to be first to the battlefield, apparently not knowing the
dead have been almost completely scavenged already.

Zyrn gauges the distance between them and
figures the wagons will reach the battlefield first. “We’ll keep
our distance,” he tells the others. “We have more important things
to worry about right now.”

Kicking his horse into motion, he moves
quickly across the desert. He doesn’t travel far before he sees a
body lying in the dirt a little to the north. “Over here!” he
hollers. The others move to join him and they soon reach the body
of one of the missing young men.

Hoping down from his horse, he’s quick to
realize the young man is dead. Lying on his stomach the way he is,
the man almost appears to be sleeping. Reaching out, Zyrn turns him
over.

Jumping back in startlement, he almost loses
the contents of his stomach. One of the men traveling with him does
double over and begins vomiting. The skin of the young man is gray,
gray like the sand surrounding the battlefield. Not only that, but
his features seem to be sagging like wax held too close to heat.
The young man’s eyes are open, the pupils are gray as well.

“I think it is Hakim,” one man says.

“He is,” confirms Zyrn.

“What happened?” another man asks.

“I don’t know but we better find the others
quick,” he says. Mounting he turns to the others and says, “We’ll
come back and get him on our return.” With the rest following he
continues toward the battlefield.

When they reach the beginning of the gray
area he pauses. The face of the dead man they left behind comes to
mind. The fact that his face was gray gives him pause in entering
the gray sand.

“There’s another!” cries out one of the
men.

Further into the area of gray sand lies
another of the missing young men. As one of the men makes to enter
the grayness, Zyrn yells, “Stop!”

“But he may need our help, Zyrn,” the man
says.

Dismounting, Zyrn moves to the edge of the
gray sand. Bending over, he hesitantly reaches down and touches it.
The feel of it is the same as it was when they were here before.
Turning to the man he stopped, he nods.

Kicking his horse in the sides, the man
races over to the body lying in the sand. By the time Zyrn has
remounted the man has stopped and is kneeling by the body. When
Zyrn and the others approach, the man glances back to him and says,
“It’s Ibala.”

His features mimic that of the other dead
man; gray skin that looks like melted wax and pupils that have
turned gray. “Do you think anyone is left alive?” one man asks.

Gazing out over the grey desert Zyrn shakes
his head and replies, “I doubt it.” Further toward the sight of the
battle, he sees the wagons of the other scavengers. They have
stopped before reaching the area where the dead soldiers lay.

“They stopped,” he comments.

The others look to see what he’s talking
about. “What do you think made them do that?” one of his companions
asks.

“I don’t know,” he replies. Putting his hand
across his forehead to keep the sun off his eyes, he tries to get a
clearer view. Then movement catches his eye. Six figures are
running away from the wagons back the way they came. “They are
running away,” he says nervously.

“What should we do?” asks the man next to
him. Despite his attempt to sound calm, fear has crept into his
voice.

“I’m not sure but we better find out what’s
going on,” he says. Kicking his horse in the sides he bolts toward
the fleeing men. Before he has gone half the distance, three of the
men fall and don’t get up. Then another falls and then another.

He reaches the last man just as he hits the
ground. “Stay back!” Zyrn orders the others. Moving closer he
watches as the man writhes upon the ground. Not a sound does the
man make other than that of his limbs moving in the dirt. A spasm
rips through him and he flips onto his back.

Most of his skin has turned gray and is
beginning to sag in the same manner as the young men they found.
One pupil is gray and the other is almost there. The man’s jaw
opens and closes as if he’s trying to say something. Then another
spasm tears through him before his body becomes still.

“Zyrn,” one man says with barely controlled
fear evident in his voice, “let’s get out of here.”

“But we haven’t found my son,” another man
argues.

“He’s dead!” the scared man exclaims. “They
all are!”

“I’m not leaving here until I find my son!”
the man shouts.

They look to Zyrn for a decision.

He glances from one to the others and then
says, “I’ll stay here with Zaki. The rest of you return to the
village and tell them what is going on.”

The fearful man immediately turns his horse
and heads in a straight line home. The others turn to follow
him.

“Thanks Zyrn,” Zaki says.

“Come on,” he replies. Glancing to the
wagons, he sees the horses are down even though they are still in
their traces. Angling away from the wagons, they begin to creep
further toward the battlefield.

Before they go very far Zaki sees another
body further into the gray area. Recognizing the cloak upon the
body he cries out, “My son!” Kicking his horse in the sides he
bolts toward where his son lays.

Zyrn makes to follow him when he notices the
ground ahead of them seems to shimmer and shift. A bad feeling
comes over him and cries out for Zaki to stop but he doesn’t heed
the warning.

Pulling up to a quick halt, he watches as
Zaki’s horse passes into the area that shimmers and shifts. Where
the horse’s hooves touch the ground, the grayness seems to ripple
but Zaki doesn’t notice.

“Come back!” Zyrn yells one final time.

Then suddenly, Zaki’s horse stumbles and
he’s thrown to the ground. Zyrn watches in horror as the grayness
seems to ripple away from the spot where Zaki lands like ripples
across a pond. The horse screams as it hits the ground.

Getting to his feet, Zaki takes a step
toward his son before he notices his hands. The parts that had
touched the ground now have gray flecks across them. He tries
rubbing the gray off on his shirt and some of his skin comes off,
leaving a gray trail across his front.

“Zaki!” Zyrn screams.

Zaki turns to look back and Zyrn can see
where the gray is already beginning to spread across his skin.
Turning back to his son again, he races across the ground until he
reaches his side. By this time his horse has stopped its thrashing
upon the ground and has grown still.

Kneeling beside the young man, Zaki tries to
pick him up but lacks the strength. With a moan, he tips to the
side and begins to writhe upon the ground before growing still.

“Zaki!” cries Zyrn. Lifelong friends, he and
Zaki go way back. He looks in anguish at his friend who lies
unmoving next to his son. “Damn!” he curses.

Just then, his horse rears backward and
stumbles. Zyrn leaps from his horse as it falls and hits the ground
hard. Glancing back to his horse, he sees its forelegs turning
gray. Slowly the gray begins working its way to the rest of its
body. Thrashing about, the horse neighs in fear until finally
growing still and quiet.

Zyrn scrambles backward until he has put
several yards between himself and his now dead horse. He tries to
come to grips with what happened to his horse. He knew he stopped
outside of the gray area and his horse hadn’t moved the entire time
he watched Zaki’s ordeal.

Then he notices how the edge of the gray
area seems to slowly be expanding.
Oh my god! It’s growing!
Scooting backward another couple of feet, he pauses and stares at
the edge to make sure his eyes weren’t paying tricks on him. After
a few moments, sure enough he sees the edge expand again.

It’s not a constant growth, seems to grow in
periodic spurts. Getting to his feet, he casts one last look back
at his friend then turns around and runs for all he’s worth. If
this continues to grow, then his whole village is in danger.
Leaving the grayness behind, he races across the desert.

Four hours past Pleasant Meadows they stop
for the night. A quick meal then right to sleep for they plan to
make an early start in the morning.

Jiron has pulled the midnight watch tonight.
During his watch he keeps a fire going for the comfort of the
others, but primarily stays in the darkness surrounding the camp.
His eyes remain better accustomed to the dark that way.

Walking the perimeter in a continuous loop,
he keeps watch externally with only the occasional glance to those
within the fire. He remembers well the shadows which paid a call
that one night a couple weeks ago. They had come to attack James
and only the quick thinking of Miko and Brother Willim saved him
from death.

He is greatly relieved that Tersa is on her
way back to The Ranch. If there’s anywhere safe in this world it
would be there. During their meal he asked James to use his mirror
to check on them and had found them camped along the trail. From
the way everyone was relaxed around the campfire listening to Moyil
tell a story, he knew they were alright. It must have been a
comical one from the way they were all smiling and laughing.

Every time one of the sleepers would make a
noise, he would glance into the camp. After what James had told him
of Miko’s experience two nights ago, he’s been worried Miko may
have another episode.

It’s drawing closer to the time for him to
wake Stig for his turn. How they all miss the younger guys who use
to pull this duty. Another noise from the camp and again he looks
to where Miko is sleeping. This time he sees one of Miko’s arms
moving, if only slightly. Worried, he moves into the camp toward
him.

When he reaches his side, he sees sweat
beading on his forehead and his lips are moving in silent
conversation. James is lying next to his friend and Jiron quietly
wakes him. Once James’ eyes open and he sees him kneeling beside
him, he nods to Miko and whispers, “He’s having another dream.”

Instantly awake he looks over to where Miko
has begun to thrash more animatedly. “Get Brother Willim,” he says
as he moves to Miko’s side.

Jiron nods and goes to get him.

Just as before Miko thrashes, sweats, and
his mouth works silently. James is about to awaken him again when a
green glow springs to life and Brother Willim steps to his side.
“Don’t,” he tells him.

James’ hand stops bare inches away and he
turns to glance up at the priest of Asran. “Shouldn’t we do
something?” he asks with a catch in his voice.

“Is it the same as before?” asks Jiron. He
was told after the last time that Brother Willim had sensed another
presence during the time Miko was affected by the dream.

Nodding, Brother Willim says, “Exactly the
same.”

“But,” argues James, “we must do
something.”

By this time the rest of the camp has
awakened and stands in a semicircle around them. “I heard about
something like this before,” Scar says. “It was back in…”

“Not now Scar!” exclaims James.

“Yes now!” he retorts back which draws
everyone’s attention. “I know you guys don’t believe half the
things we say but you need to listen now.” Beside him Potbelly nods
in agreement.