The Dark Mage (Hand Of Justice Book 1)

by Jace Mitchell

  The Dark Mage

  Hand Of Justice™ Book One

  Jace Mitchell

  Michael Anderle

  The Dark Mage (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2018 Jace Mitchell & Michael Anderle

  Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  A Michael Anderle Production

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, December 2018

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Author Notes - Jace Mitchell

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Other Age of Magic Books

  Books by Michael Anderle

  The Dark Mage Team

  JIT Readers

  Diane L. Smith

  Chrisa Changala

  Peter Manis

  Jo Owen

  Mary Morris

  Angel LaVey

  Paul Westman

  Larry Omans

  Editor

  SkyHunter Editing Team

  Dedication

  To my best friend, Tucker.

  --Jace

  To Family, Friends and

  Those Who Love

  to Read.

  May We All Enjoy Grace

  to Live the Life We Are

  Called.

  — Michael

  Chapter One

  “He’s a jackass! I can’t believe the Prefect actually let him appear in court,” William Teller grumbled as he paced back and forth across the courtyard in the moonlight.

  Riley Trident watched him. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack, William. You’re not as young as you used to be, and all this quick movement combined with stress might just kill you.” Riley grinned. William was about fifteen years older than her, and the only other Right Hand in New Perth.

  “On your best day, you’re not as good as me on my fuckin’ worst,” William quipped.

  Riley smiled wider, although the big man didn’t see it.

  They both were clearly in peak shape, even if he was older than her. William and Riley were deadly assassins of New Perth’s Prefect, whom William served—and the Assistant Prefect, whom Riley served.

  As Right Hands, they weren’t just assassins, though. Nor were they knights, per se. Rather, they were special envoys for New Perth’s rulers. Whatever needed to happen, the Right Hands made it so. In the overall hierarchy, William was higher than Riley due to whom he served. Serving the Assistant Prefect was a stupendous achievement, but until Prefect Ire retired or passed away, Riley would be second in the order.

  Which was fine with her. She only wanted to serve the court—and Assistant Prefect Mason specifically—in whatever way was needed.

  “Why did you call me out here so late to talk about this bullshit?” William asked, still pacing the cobblestone walkway.

  “Because, unlike you, I actually listen to people, and I listened to that man today.” Riley couldn’t stop grinning. This was getting under William’s skin, and she loved it.

  “You listened to him, huh? Then you must think he’s crazy, too? Because otherwise, you’re just as crazy.”

  “That’s what I’m not sure about. What if he’s not crazy?” Riley asked.

  William shook his head. Physically, he was the complete opposite of Riley.

  To which William always replied, “Means you got no business bein’ a Right Hand. You’re too skinny.”

  Riley always responded with, “I’m twice as good as you at half your age.”

  For two Right Hands, they were negative images of one another. Where William relied on massive strength and brute force, Riley leaned on speed, agility, and accuracy. Where he looked like a giant, Riley was lithe. Where he was forty, Riley was only twenty-five.

  The Prefect’s son Mason had chosen Riley, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  “How could the man not be crazy?” William asked, continuing their conversation. “He was in court this morning talkin’ about some mage up north. I’m beginning to wonder if you were actually listening?”

  “I was,” Riley answered.

  “I’m going to Prefect Ire. We have to get your head tested, because you’re clearly losin’ your mind, too. Out of two Right Hands, how is only one of them sane?” A small grin appeared at the corner of William’s mouth. “Clearly I’ve always been better with my sword, but now your mind is turnin’ to mush right along with your physical skills.”

  “I’m not saying I believe him, William,” Riley countered. “I’m saying maybe we should listen a little harder than we did. I mean, the man barely had finished his plea to Prefect Ire before you threw him through the court’s doors.”

  “You’re just mad that you don’t have the strength to throw anyone,” William retorted, the grin growing wider.

  “Keep up that talk and I’ll throw you, old man.” Riley laughed.

  The person they were discussing had come to court today to discuss his concerns in front of Prefect Goland Ire. The Prefect ruled New Perth and allowed the citizens to plead before him once a month, feeling that he needed to hear from his people directly. The man William was raving about had had…abnormal concerns. They weren’t about the rising price of bread or the potholes on a side street.

  “Riley,” William continued, “for one, I don’t like that dirt-covered rats from the street get to say their piece before such a great man. He’s given them everythin’ they could ask for, and still, they want more. However, that guy today was out of his fuckin’ mind. He said a mage up north had kidnapped people and was stealing their magic. He was using their magic to amplify his own! That’s ludicrous, Riley. Absolutely ludicrous!”

  “Okay, okay, chubby. I hear what you’re saying.” Riley nodded. “It does seem ludicrous, but he sounded like he believed it, didn’t he? I mean, if he is crazy, I don’t think he was lying in that he knew he was telling a falsehood. He believed it.”

  “Your head is soft, skinny. Should we follow every single concern that crosses Prefect Ire’s ears just because a crazy person believes it’s true? What if someone comes next month sayin’ they got ghosts in their blood? Should we deploy doctors to look at ‘em?”

  Riley sighed, truly wanting to throttle the big man. His mind was made up, and he wasn’t going to listen to her.

  “I’m just saying, it bothers me how strongly he believed it. He was practically screaming at us that we had to li
sten to him because the mage was coming here next.”

  William laughed. “We’re going to have to see if we can find a replacement Right Hand. You might be good with that sword, skinny, but your head is as soft as fuckin’ puddin’.”

  Riley turned swiftly, hearing movement on the other side of the courtyard’s door. Nothing got past her senses, even when she was in deep conversation.

  The door opened, and one of Mason’s servants entered.

  “Right Hands,” the woman greeted them both, looking down at the ground out of respect.

  Riley was the first female Right Hand in the history of New Perth, and she took great honor in that. She was humbled, to be honest. As of this moment, there were only two Right Hands in the city because the Prefect had only one son.

  Riley looked at the servant in front of her now. Many people in the court didn’t remember those with positions less than their own, but Riley always did. Riley shouldn’t have risen so high since she had started even more humbly than this servant.

  She knew what it was like to come from nothing, so she simply never overlooked those beneath her.

  “Hi, Charlotte.” Riley smiled. “Does Mason need me?”

  “Yes, Right Hand.” Charlotte always used Riley’s title, and Riley always told her the same thing.

  “Please, Charlotte, call me Riley. We both serve the kingdom. There is no difference between us. They just gave me a sword to carry.”

  Charlotte nodded and smiled but said nothing, both of them knowing she would call her “Right Hand” the next time they spoke.

  “I’ll be right there.” Riley let Charlotte leave the courtyard, then grinned at William. “What do you want to bet he’s thinking the same thing as me?”

  “He might be, and I ain’t gonna speak ill of the Assistant Prefect, but this is nuts. That man is nuts. And you are definitely nuts.”

  It was ten at night, and Mason hardly ever summoned Riley this late.

  “I’ll let you know what he says, chubby.”

  Riley left the courtyard, heading to Mason’s quarters. She was already wearing appropriate attire: her sword and robe. It was a deep purple garment that fell to just above her feet and was much better suited to her style of fighting than William’s. She could move easily beneath the cloth, striking out with her sword at a moment’s notice. It was like fighting draped in air, and she actually preferred it to the armor that decorum called for sometimes.

  Riley reached Mason’s door. Charlotte was sitting outside with a book in her hand. She placed the book down and stood up as Riley arrived.

  “Oh, no need to stop on account of me.”

  “Yes, Right Hand,” Charlotte replied, although she didn’t sit down and reopen the book.

  Riley kept from smiling, knowing that the woman was giving her utmost respect to Riley’s position.

  “May I enter?” Riley asked, offering the same respect back to the servant. It was her job to monitor the comings and goings at this hour, and Riley would not presume to simply enter without permission.

  “Yes, Right Hand. Assistant Prefect Mason is waiting for you.”

  “Thank you,” Riley answered.

  She pushed the door open and stepped into the trappings of royalty.

  A large plush couch was in front of a fire pit, although the fire was out. Paintings adorned the walls—portraits of Mason’s family, and of famous battles fought.

  Mason’s bedroom was in the back, although the door was closed, as it always was when Riley entered. The two had known each other for fifteen years, and never once had Mason been anything but a gentleman. He wouldn’t even show her a bed, especially at this late hour.

  Mason stood at the window with his back to her and his hands folded in front of him. The moon was high above the city, and Riley could see through the window that New Perth was still awake. Candles burned in windows, and people moved to and fro from bars and restaurants.

  “Did I wake you?” Mason asked.

  “No, Your Grace. I was awake.”

  “I’m sorry for calling you here so late, but I’ve been thinking all day long.”

  “Your Grace never needs to apologize to me.”

  “Will you drop the ‘Your Grace’ stuff, please?” Mason requested, still not turning around. “You don’t like Charlotte calling you ‘Right Hand,’ do you?”

  Riley smiled. “Okay, Mason.”

  “That man today…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Father thinks he’s crazy, but he just seemed so…confident.” Mason asked, “Did it bother you?”

  “What he said?”

  “No, his confidence.”

  Riley understood this was why she’d been chosen as his Right Hand. It wasn’t her ability with the sword, her speed, or even her temperament. It was because they were always in sync.

  “Yeah,” she responded. “It’s stuck with me most of the day.”

  “Me too. I’m wondering if my dad made a mistake sending him away.”

  “I wouldn’t mention that to William.” Riley gave a slight smile. “He’s likely to toss you off the Grand Bridge.”

  “No, I don’t plan on mentioning it to him or to Dad, but I’d be failing in my duties if I didn’t follow up on it. Dad has so much else going on that it’s hard for him sometimes to understand who the crazies are versus who actually deserves our attention.

  “He’s a good man.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t make him perfect.” Mason turned around finally and looked at his Right Hand. “Listen, that man should still be in the city. I want you to find him and see exactly what he’s talking about. There wasn’t enough time at court today, so a lot of what he said sounded crazy, but that doesn’t mean it was. It might just mean he didn’t have time to explain it properly.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Mason shook his head, and Riley knew she’d made a mistake. “Okay, Mason.”

  “Don’t tell anyone else what you’re doing, okay? Just keep this between us for now.”

  “Of course,” Riley replied. “Do you need me for anything else?”

  “No, that’s all. If something is brewing on the northern coast, we need to know about it.”

  Riley didn’t sleep much that night. She didn’t like to see Mason worrying; it made her worry more. Perhaps she dozed for an hour or so, but she was awake when the sun rose.

  As soon as she saw it shining, she got out of bed. She didn’t want to waste time when Mason assigned something to her, and if the sunlight was burning, then it was time for her to work.

  She thought briefly about whether to wear her official garb or something that wouldn’t identify her so readily. Since she was the Assistant Prefect’s Right Hand, people would probably figure out who she was, but the purple robe would give her away immediately. Mason wanted this done as quietly as possible, so the robe was out of the question.

  Riley dressed down, throwing on trousers and a simple shirt. She wouldn’t be able to hide her sword from anyone, nor the adornments on the hilt. It would be at her side, and perhaps her hand could cover it some, but there wasn’t a lot else she could do.

  “Where are you off to?” William asked as she walked toward the stairs. Both Right Hands resided in the same wing, and their rooms were close to one another.

  “Out.” Riley stopped to face him for a moment.

  “Dressed like that?” William asked.

  “I know the people don’t like you much, but they fawn over me, William. If I leave in my robe, I may never make it back. The crowds will be too large.” Riley smiled as she spoke. She obviously wasn’t going to tell William the truth, but he wasn’t dumb. If she tried to lie, he’d ask more questions. If she joked, he might let her go without too much more pestering.

  “You think you’re cute, don’t ya?” the big man asked.

  “I only know I’m not as ugly as you, William.” Riley smirked.

  William grunted and closed his door.

  Riley turned back to the stairs and started down the
m. It took her a few minutes to exit the castle from the back. It was a massive structure, towering over the rest of New Perth. Riley knew she was lucky to live in it, especially since she came from a home that was more shack than house.

  Riley knew the back paths to the castle well, though she doubted William did. When he left, he went through the main entrance, the double doors dwarfing even him in comparison. He would never try to sneak out the back, but Riley knew well that what she lacked in raw strength could be made up with speed and cunning—thus, always have more than one exit.

  She quickly found herself in the market. People bustled around, the sound of vendors filling the streets, yelling about their produce and fish. Riley didn’t pay it any mind, and no one was looking at her either. This was where she’d grown up, so the noises that might startle the royalty of the castle were only background to her.

  She knew where she was heading. If anyone had an idea where the man from the court had gone, it would be Lucie.

  Riley moved quickly through the streets, weaving in and out of people like water in a stream. The alehouse was on the corner at the end of the market. It was early in the morning, and while the market was busy, the alehouses weren’t. Even drunks needed a break, which was why the market was so busy. Most of the restaurant proprietors were out getting their food for the rest of the day.

  A large sign was over the door, simply reading LUCIE’S.