The Mists of Sorrow: The Morcyth Saga Book Seven Read Online Free

everyone has taken a drink and thus
honored the toast, Illan sets his goblet down and says, “Friends
and comrades. I for one never thought I would host a dinner here in
the fortress of Al-Ziron.” At that several chuckles sound out from
various men in the hall.
    “Tonight we honor one who more than any
other made this happen,” he says. Picking up his goblet once more,
he turns to James and says, “To James. Mage and ally of Madoc,
without whom Madoc would even now be grinding under the heel of the
Empire.”
    “To James!” the cry resounds throughout the
hall. Jiron glances to his friend and grins. He knows how James
hates the spotlight and would rather just sit at the fringe
observing.
    “Now,” announces Illan, “let the feast
begin!”
    From the sides of the hall, men bearing
platters of food enter and begin sitting them on the tables. Not a
great variety, nor are there any specialized treats, this is the
best that can be had on short notice.
    During the meal, the talk gravitates from
the past, to the future then back to the present. All are hoping
for a complete and quick halt to the war. Once the feast begins to
wind down, Delia takes Shorty by the hand and soon has him out on
the floor dancing. Aleya, not one to be outdone, drags Jiron out as
well.
    The night is spent with feasting, music and
friendship. They all try to forget that their group will soon be
splitting up as James and those going with him leave on the morrow.
At one point the musicians fall silent and are given a break while
Jorry and Uther regale those at the feast with a tale of how they
got the better of an assassin who was trying to kill Jorry. Seems
he besmirched the daughter of a well-to-do merchant who hired the
assassin to take care of him. One thing led to another and the
assassin was eventually handed over to the town guard and the
matter was never again brought up.
    When they finished their tale, the listeners
responded with a vigorous applause. Scar and Potbelly were about to
start in on one of their own when the musicians started up again.
Scar glances over to the musicians and was about ready to tell them
to stop when he sees Delia standing there next to them. Giving him
a glare and shaking her head, she moves to Yern and drags him out
to the dance floor. Apparently she wanted to dance more than hear
another of his wild tales.
    About this time, Miko makes an appearance.
Blood soaked clothes and some serious bags under his eyes, he walks
through the main doors. James notices in one hand he’s holding a
half eaten tart. Where he managed to acquire one of those he has no
idea.
    Plopping into the seat next to him, Miko
stuffs the remainder of the tart in his mouth.
    “Where did you get that?” James asks
him.
    “The cook,” he replies. “One of the men I
healed was his brother. He asked me what my favorite food was and I
replied ‘Tarts, though I doubt if there are any to be had here.’
Well, two hours later here he comes with a plate containing half a
dozen steaming hot tarts.”
    “Don’t suppose you have any left?” he
inquires.
    Looking somewhat guilty, Miko shakes his
head. “Sorry, that was the last one.”
    James pats him on the shoulder and gives him
a grin. “That’s okay,” he says. “After all you’ve done for
everyone, you deserve them.”
    “Next time I’ll save one for you,” he
assures him.
    A few minutes later, Brother Willim and the
other two priests of Asran enter the hall and make their way toward
them. When Brother Willim draws close James indicates the chair
recently vacated by Jiron while he’s out dancing with Aleya.
    Taking the seat, Brother Willim leans back
in the chair and sighs. The other two priests join Derek and the
others at their table.
    “Tired?” asks James.
    “Yes, very,” he replies. Nodding to Miko he
adds, “I think between Miko, my brothers, and I many lives were
saved. What there is left can be readily dealt with by the
healers.” A server brings him a cup of ale and