He must have dozed off for he’s startled awake when Miko sticks his head in the tent to say, “Dinner’s ready.”
“Be right there,” he says as he sits up. The interior of the tent is dark, the sun must have gone down already. Miko holds the flap open for him while he gets up and makes his way outside.
From the entrance to his tent, he has a commanding view of the Sea as it stretches eastward to the horizon. A few boats are still upon its surface, the lights from their lanterns visible in the deepening gloom of twilight as they make their way home.
“Is Delia back yet?” he asks.
“Not yet,” replies Miko. “Illan said if she wasn’t back soon he was going to send someone to find her.
“She should have been back by now,” he says worried. He spies Illan over to the side near the campfire getting a plate of food from Nerrin who pulled cook duty this evening. Son of an innkeeper, he tends to cook better than most and pulls it more often than the others. Miko they won’t allow to perform this particular duty. Uther said he tried to poison them all the last time. James had to admit the stuff he put in that concoction he called stew didn’t go well together.
Walking over, he accepts a plate from Nerrin and walks with Illan off to the side. “She’s not back yet?” he asks.
Shaking his head, Illan replies, “No, she’s not. Give her another half hour and we’ll send Scar and Potbelly to find her.”
“Alright,” he agrees, concern in his voice.
Jiron is eating with his sister Tersa near the slingers’ area, Aleya and Errin are with them as well. Those four tend to be together more than the others. A bond has grown between Aleya and Errin, and it seems Tersa has begun to join their group. Perhaps because they’re the only girls among all the men. Delia, though a woman as well, is in a position of authority which puts her at some distance from them.
“Finally!” Miko exclaims from the side of the camp closest to Pyrtlin.
James looks up to see Delia returning with the three lads in tow. The packs they’re carrying are bulging from the food they acquired. He finishes the last of his food quickly and hands his tray back to Nerrin on his way over to greet her. “We were getting worried about you,” he says.
“Now don’t be fretting,” she says. “I ran into someone I knew from back before the City fell and we got to talking.”
Behind her James sees Moyil grinning and gesturing with his hand, moving the fingers to the thumb over and over while mouthing ‘yackity yackity yackity’. She glances over her shoulder at him and he stops, all the while putting on an innocent face. James can’t help but smile.
She must have caught what he was doing out of the corner of her eye because her lips curl into a slight frown. Turning back to James, she says, “We bought as much as we could carry. The prices are more than we thought, things around here are scarce. If we succeed, I may start trading between Cardri and Madoc. There’s a profit to be made here.” Despite having put her trading career on hold for the time being, she still sees things as a trader would.
“I’m sure there is,” he says.
Turning back to her helpers, she says, “Moyil, if you would be so kind as to help me distribute these among the packhorses before you eat, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“But I’m hungry,” he complains. He looks to James for help.
“Don’t look at me,” he says.
Crestfallen and starving, he takes the packs from Jace and Caleb and proceeds over to where the horses are tied.
Delia flashes James a grin and follows him over. Maybe he’ll think twice before making fun of her behind her back again.
After everyone, including Moyil who received a scant portion due to his lateness in reaching the cook pot, finishes eating they come together at the center fire pit near the center of camp. There they continue in the tradition James had established back at The Ranch where stories are told and songs are sung.
Tonight Scar and Potbelly are in rare form as they relate a tale of how back at the City of Light when they were but young teens they became entangled in a struggle between two elements trying to wrest control of the less than savory aspects. According to them, they stumbled across an assassination plot of one faction who was targeting the leader of the other.
By means both devious and bordering on the unbelievable, they saved the man, won his trust and had the chance to become his lieutenants in the organization he was creating, but instead passed it over in favor of the fight pits which they had heard about and were interested in joining.
“I don’t seem to recall anything like that going on,” Jiron says as they finally wind down. You can say a lot about their stories, but dull and uneventful are not among them.
“Of course not,” Scar says. “This was before we met.”
“That’s right,” adds Potbelly. “It’s not like events concerning this sort of thing are talked about. These sorts of people don’t take kindly to their affairs becoming public knowledge.”
“That was the biggest piece of trash I ever heard!” Jorry says from where he sits across the fire from the pair. Uther nods in agreement.
“True or not,” Illan says as he gets to his feet, “it’s time for us to turn in. We still have many days ahead of us before we reach Lythylla.”
As everyone but those pulling sentry duty begins turning in, the two pairs eye each other with silent intensity. It seems a rivalry has begun between them and things, not to mention tales, are bound to get more outlandish.
James heads for his tent and can hear Uther say to Jorry, in a voice loud enough to be heard by everyone, “You’d think if they were going to make up a story, they should at least make it entertaining.” Rolling his eyes heavenward, he enters his tent and gets ready for bed.
Lying upon the cot, he stares at the roof of his tent as a smile plays across his face. If nothing else, at least things won’t get boring.
The grass covered rolling hills extend ahead of him until they disappear in the horizon. A beautiful day, sun high in a crystal blue sky, the odd fluffy white cloud drifting by. The scent of wildflowers is borne upon the breeze as it brings a welcoming coolness to the heat of the day.
Small animals race by as he walks, seemingly completely unconcerned by his passing. A deer, or something very similar actually comes right up to him. He reaches out his hand and it allows him to stroke its neck before darting off.
A sense of peace and tranquility fills him as he walks through the grass. He doesn’t walk long before the sound of a carnival reaches him. Scanning the horizon, he can see the top of the Ferris wheel behind a hill off to his right. Intrigued, he turns in that direction and hurries along.
Topping the rise behind which the carnival hides, he sees a sight he’s seen played out many times before. Whenever spring and summer come, so did the carnivals and fairs. This one is just like all the others, carnies working the crowds, enticing them to either buy or play one of the overpriced games.
A smile comes to him as he walks down the hill. The sights, the smells, all remind him of home. Off to one side he sees his favorite amusement park treat in all the world. Cotton Candy. Oh man does he love that. Of course it has to be the pink variety, none other is nearly as good. Reaching into his pocket for money, he realizes he didn’t bring any. All that he produces is a single ride ticket, good for any of the rides. Saddened by being unable to buy the cotton candy, he still walks his way through the midway enjoying the sights and sounds.
It suddenly occurs to him that he is the only one there other than the carnies. He stops in his tracks and gazes around but no one other than himself is there. At least he’ll not have to wait in line to use his ticket.
As he walks along, he looks at all the different rides available to him. Of course there’s the roller coaster, the funhouse and the inevitable carousel. What would a carnival be without one of those?