A Dream of Mortals (Book #15 in the Sorcerer's Ring) by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online Page A

his eyes, turned his head, and
looked down the hall to see several Empire guards dragging a prisoner. This
prisoner wore a red sash over his shoulder, across his chest, and he hung
limply in their arms, not even trying to resist. In fact, as he got closer, Godfrey
saw that they had to drag him, as he was unconscious. Something was clearly wrong
with him.
    “Bringing me another plague victim?” the guard
yelled back derisively. “What do you expect me to do with him?”
    “Not our problem!” called back the others.
    The guard on duty had a fearful look as he held
up his hands.
    “I’m not touching him!” he said. “Put him over
there—in the pit, with the other plague victims.”
    The guards looked at him questioningly.
    “But he’s not dead yet,” they replied.
    The guard on duty scowled.
    “You think I care?”
    The guards exchanged a look then did as they
were told, dragging him across the prison corridor and throwing him into a
large pit. Godfrey could see now that the pit was filled with bodies, all of
them covered with the same red sash.
    “And what if he tries to run?” the guards asked
before turning away.
    The commanding guard smiled a cruel smile.
    “Do you not know what the plague does to a man?”
he asked. “He’ll be dead by morning.”
    The two guards turned and walked away, and Godfrey
looked at the plague victim, lying there all alone in that unguarded pit, and
he suddenly had an idea. It was crazy enough that it might just work.
    Godfrey turned to Akorth and Fulton.
    “Punch me,” he said.
    They exchanged a puzzled look.
    “I said punch me!” Godfrey said.
    They shook their heads.
    “Are you mad?” Akorth asked.
    “I’m not going to punch you,” Fulton chimed in,
“as much as you may deserve it.”
    “I’m telling you to punch me!” Godfrey
demanded. “Hard. In the face. Break my nose! NOW!”
    But Akorth and Fulton turned away.
    “You’ve lost it,” they said.
    Godfrey turned to Merek and Ario, but they,
too, backed away.
    “Whatever this is about,” Merek said, “I want
no part of it.”
    Suddenly, one of the other prisoners in the
cell waltzed up to Godfrey.
    “Couldn’t help overhearing,” he said, grinning
a gap-toothed grin, breathing stale breath all over him. “I’m more than happy
to punch you, just to shut you the hell up! You don’t have to ask me twice.”
    The prisoner swung, connected right on Godfrey’s
nose with his bony knuckles, and Godfrey felt a sharp pain shooting through his
skull as he cried out and grabbed his nose. Blood squirted out all over his
face and down his shirt. The pain stung his eyes, clouding his vision.
    “Now I need that sash,” Godfrey said, turning
to Merek. “Can you get it for me?”
    Merek, puzzled, followed his line of vision
across the hall, to the prisoner lying unconscious in the pit.
    “Why?” he asked.
    “Just do it,” Godfrey said.
    Merek furrowed his brow.
    “If I tied something together, maybe I could
reach it,” he said. “Something long and skinny.”
    Merek reached up, felt his own collar, and extracted
a wire from it; as he unfolded it, it was long enough to suit his purpose.
    Merek leaned forward against the prison bars,
careful so as not to alert the guard, and reached out with the wire, trying to hook
the sash. It dragged in the dirt, but fell a few inches short.
    He tried again and again, but Merek kept
getting stuck at the elbow in the bars. They were not skinny enough.
    The guard turned his way, and Merek quickly
retracted it before he could see it.
    “Let me try,” Ario said, stepping forward as
the guard turned away.
    Ario grabbed the long wire and stuck his arms
through the cell, and his arms, much skinnier, passed through all the way up to
the shoulder.
    That extra six inches was what they needed. The
hook just barely connected with the end of the red sash, and Ario began to pull
it toward him. He stopped as the guard, facing the other direction, nodding off,
lifted his head and looked