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

he downs it in one
gulp. Giving out with a satisfied ‘aah’ he sets the cup on the
table where another servant carrying a pitcher comes forward and
refills it. “Thank you my son,” he says to the server as he takes
up his cup once more. The server nods and immediately withdraws
back to the wall where he scans the assembled guests for anyone
else in need of a refill.
    “I heard you are leaving in the morning?”
asks Brother Willim after taking one more swallow of ale.
    “That’s right,” replies James. “We’re going
to escort several of our comrades to Cardri. Most of them aren’t
really suited for warfare.”
    “None of us really are,” he states. After
pausing for another drink he says, “I would still like to accompany
you if you don’t mind.”
    “What about your fallen brothers?” he asks.
“Aren’t you going to escort them back with the other two?”
    “No,” he answers. “My brethren can do that
well enough, what I needed to do has already been done.”
    James is delighted to have such a man
journey with him. But then a thought comes. “This wouldn’t have
anything to do with me being the ‘Gardener’ would it? If I remember
right, you called me that during that last big battle in the
desert.”
    Brother Willim gets a crooked grin and nods.
“Somewhat, yes,” he replies.
    “Just what does it mean that I’m the
Gardener?” he asks.
    “There’s an old prophecy handed down from
old…,” he begins.
    “Isn’t there always,” interrupts James with
a sigh.
    “What?” questions Illan who had been
listening in on the conversation.
    Not realizing he had spoken aloud, James
turns to him and says, “Oh, nothing.” Then to Brother Willim he
says, “Sorry for interrupting you, please continue.”
    “Centuries ago, a man came to one of our
lord Asran’s temples,” he continues. “Which one I’ll not say. The
man was wracked with fever and eventually slipped into the sleep of
the dead. Not completely dead yet not completely alive either.”
    Must have been in a coma, reasons
James.
    “During the time when he lay in the sleep of
the dead, there were times when he spoke. At first the priests
attending him thought his words were gibberish until one old
scholarly priest realized the man was speaking in a language long
dead to the world of men. Only the most learned scholars still
understood the language, some of the oldest surviving tomes we have
are written in it.”
    “Immediately they had the priest begin
writing down the words the man spoke. He wouldn’t speak often so
they had the priest stay with the man constantly, ever prepared to
put to parchment the words of the man.”
    “And has anything the man spoke of come to
pass?” James asks.
    Nodding, Brother Willim says, “Yes,
several.” He takes a sip of ale and then continues. “After the
first several months, he began speaking of the end of the world. Of
fire and shadows consuming all life.”
    At that James and Illan glance to each
other. They can see reflected in the eyes of the other the memory
of the shadows they have encountered.
    “There are many passages linking the
Gardener to the end of the world. Some foretell of his coming,
others speak of events that will transpire before he walks upon
this earth.” Glancing first to James then to Illan he adds, “At
least five that I know of have come to pass in the last few
years.”
    “Okay,” says James. “What makes you believe
that I am the Gardener of which he spoke?”
    “I will tell you of two,” he says. “Here is
the first,”

    When evil arises, its
neighbors to swallow,
    A man shall come to lands gone fallow.
    With might and right its tide to slow,
    The Gardener walks the lands to sow.

    “We believe the arising evil is the Empire,”
he states. “‘Swallowing its neighbors’, that’s exactly what it is
doing. And since it mentions the Gardener, that would conclude he
would appear at this time.”
    “But that’s pretty vague,” James says.
Turning to