James watches as he moves away from the top of the stairs. Several minutes pass by before Jiron reappears and comes back down to where James is waiting for him.
“Well?” asks James.
“Up there is pretty messed up,” he explains. “We are going to need to be really careful, the whole place looks unstable and about to cave in at any minute.”
Nodding, James says, “I see. We’re going to need this to remain open so we can get out of here.”
“Exactly,” agrees Jiron. Pointing up the stairs, he says, “Once to the top, we have to cross through the wreckage before we’ll be able to reach the street. I couldn’t see any better way, so we’ll just have to step very carefully.” He looks to James and asks, “Understand?”
Nodding his head, he says, “Yes.”
“Follow me and try to go where I do,” he tells him.
“Okay.”
Jiron again moves to the top of the stairs, this time with James right behind him. When he gets to the top, James understands what he was talking about. The walls near them are still partially standing and no way to leave the building. The only way out is across the broken, burnt floor to where a wall has collapsed outward when the roof had caved in.
“Ready?” asks Jiron. When he gets a nod from James, he steps out onto a blackened piece of wood that used to be a support beam for the ceiling.
James waits until Jiron has completely navigated it and is on another section before following. Piece by piece, Jiron leads them closer to the hole in the wall. Suddenly from the street outside the building, they can hear footsteps approaching and they hold still upon their precarious perches.
The footsteps come close and James watches as several soldiers pass right in front of the hole in the wall they’ve been trying to reach. Had they but looked within the hole, they would’ve seen Jiron standing there on a section of the collapsed ceiling not six feet from them.
When their footsteps can no longer be heard, Jiron resumes moving until he reaches what remains of the floor beside the hole. Jiron steps to the hole in the wall, knife in one hand, as he looks out upon the street running outside the building. When James joins him he says, “Looks clear.”
“Alright,” replies James. “Let’s go.”
The building across the street from them still looks to be in good shape. Jiron gestures with his head toward it and raises an eyebrow questioningly. James nods his head in reply and after again making sure no one is on the street, they race across the street to the doorway.
The door proves to be locked and they have a heart thumping few minutes standing there exposed in the street while Jiron works on the lock. Finally, they hear a click and the door swings open. Rushing in, they close the door behind them.
Chapter Seventeen
The room they find themselves in looks as if it had been ravaged by looters. Tables overturned, items from shelves thrown carelessly on the floor, and even a chair shows signs of being searched. The back of it has been sliced open and most of its stuffing lies scattered across the floor.
“They sure did a number on this place,” James says. Looking around, he picks up a book which has been torn apart. From the intricate design on the cover and the few pages he scans through, it seems a work of art. Saddened, he drops it back to the ground.
From where Jiron is looking out a window he nods without commenting. “Looks like they have slave gangs working to clear the streets,” he says after another minute.
Coming over to the window, James looks out and sees a dozen slaves with two guards further down the street where they’re clearing away the rubble. Several wagons stand ready next to them for the debris of the collapsed and ruined buildings they’re removing from the street. “Maybe they plan to stay here awhile?” he guesses.
“Probably.” Jiron then glances at him and asks, “Now that we’re here, how are you planning on discovering any information?” Gesturing to the slaves outside, he continues, “We’ll be seen sure as anything if we spend any time out there.”
“I know,” he replies. “Any information would be hundreds of years old. We need to locate buildings that have been around for centuries and somehow find a way to search them.”
“That could include over half the town!” Jiron exclaims. “It might take us weeks to be able to search all the buildings that would entail. And that’s only if they’re not currently occupied by the Empire’s forces.”
“We should probably work at night,” James says as he breaks out in a yawn. “Less chance of being spotted.”
“I agree,” replies Jiron. “We could use some rest. I’ll take the first watch. Don’t think I could fall asleep right now anyway.”
A tired James nods, not wishing to argue the point. He turns a couch back upright before lying down. Jiron standing before the window looking out is the last thing he sees before closing his eyes.
It’s almost night before James wakes up. “You didn’t wake me!” he says accusingly to Jiron where he still stands by the window.
“Wasn’t tired,” he says. “You looked like you needed it.”
Getting up, James walks over to look out the window. “Anything happening?” he asks.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “The slaves continued all day clearing the rubble. A short time ago the wagons left and they were taken away.”
The street outside looks deserted in the deepening shadows. The light is beginning to fade as the sun hits the horizon. Jiron points down the street off to the west and says, “The only really old looking buildings I could see from here are down that way. One has the look of a temple, though in its present condition it’s hard to be sure.”
“Then let’s check it out once the light has completely faded,” James tells him.
“Maybe I should go alone?” he suggests.
“No,” replies James, rejecting the idea. “I need to go. There could be something there you’ll not recognize but that I will.”
“As you wish,” he replies. He then nods when he remembers the bronze plaque they found in the complex back in the swamp and how James had recognized its significance.
For the next hour they wait by the window as the light continues to fade until darkness completely envelopes the city. Jiron then opens the door, peering out to make sure the street is deserted. When he finds no one about, he moves into the dark street with James right behind him.
Keeping to the shadows, they move slowly down the street in the direction of the church Jiron had indicated earlier. If there was indeed an old church there, there may also be others in the immediate vicinity.
No patrols walk the streets of Saragon. They’ve been in control of it for so long they no longer need worry anymore about hold out survivors from the time of the city’s fall. This makes it easy for them to move quickly without being seen.
A noise in the night freezes them in their tracks. Keeping still against a wall bordering the street, they wait for a moment, listening. When the sound doesn’t repeat itself, they continue on.
Coming to an intersection of streets, Jiron pauses a moment to make sure the cross street is empty of soldiers. Looking down both ways, he then motions for James to follow as he darts across to the other side.
“We’re almost there,” he whispers as they work their way further down the street.
A great shadow looms in the darkness before them. Its spire, once tall and majestic now lies broken on the street. The smell of charred wood permeates everything, a fire had raged through here not very long ago, a week or two maybe. James glances in through a broken doorway of the building they’re moving along. The light from the stars above reveals a burnt out husk. What function the building held before the fire, can no longer be determined.
Jiron points to the building across the street and says, “That’s the temple I saw.”
“Let’s go then,” James tells him eagerly.