Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two

by Brian S. Pratt

  A wry grin coming to his lips, the leader said, “What is your business in the Realm of the Warlord Kazan?”

  “Our business lies some distance south of the great Warlord’s domain,” Scar explained. “We are but passing through.”

  “Ah. Then I must inform you that his Greatness has decreed that all travelers must pay a tax for passing through his territory.”

  “A tax?”

  The leader nodded.

  “How much?”

  “Everything you have.”

  “Everything? Even my small clothes?” quipped Scar.

  The grin faded from the leader’s face. “Trifle not with us, stranger. It’s everything, or your lives.” A quick upturn of his arm and as one, the crossbowmen had crossbows in hand and aimed at James and the rest.

  His eyes roamed to where Jira sat with Jiron. “And to pay for your insolence, we will have the girl, too.”

  James didn’t take the time to look at Jiron’s reaction to that statement, but knew that his friend would now settle for nothing less than the leader’s death for such a decree. Keeping his hood close about him, he reached into his tunic, pulled forth his coin purse and moved forward.

  “I have fifty golds here. They’re yours if you let us go. No one need die this day.”

  Laughing, the leader turned to the hooded James. “Why take fifty when we can have it all?”

  “You take this fifty, and we will not kill you.”

  “Boastful talk for someone who is outnumbered two to one. Now, either get down from your horses and divest yourselves of all your possessions, or we’ll take them from your lifeless bodies.”

  Calling magic to him, James concentrated it upon the cocked strings of each of the ten crossbows. “Shorty,” James said in a quiet aside, “make sure none escape.”

  “Will do,” came the reply.

  “The leader’s mine.” There was no mistaking the death sentence in Jiron’s voice.

  Realizing they were not going to docilely obey, the leader hollered, “Kill them.”

  James unleashed the magic.

  Ten explosions shattered crossbows, killing eight men outright while leaving the other two handless and knocked from their horses as the animals panicked. Chaos erupted as soldiers, startled by the unexpected turn of events, found themselves under attack.

  Before the battle could be joined, two of the remaining ten soldiers fell to Shorty’s knives; a third knife embedded itself in a soldier’s back as he made to flee.

  Jiron was death incarnate as he flew across the battlefield toward the one who had dared threaten his daughter. Having left Jira upon the horse, he had leapt from its back when the crossbows exploded and was even now closing upon the leader who fought to bring his frightened horse under control.

  The leader became aware of the danger when pain erupted in his left thigh as one of Jiron’s knives sank in to the hilt. His cry of pain was cut short when the other knife entered his side between the second and third rib, driving inward toward the heart.

  So enraged was Jiron that he lifted the man out of the saddle, and with his knives still deeply embedded, flung the leader to the ground.

  “Jiron!”

  Scar’s cry saved his life. Spying the blade coming for him, Jiron had just enough time to dodge backward, a maneuver forcing him to abandon his knives. As the soldier advanced to finish him off, Potbelly arrived and cut the man to pieces.

  Miko made short work of his opponent, as did the one double-teamed by Father’s Vickor and Keller. Scar dropped his and the last fell to another of Shorty’s knives.

  The battle had lasted all of one minute.

  “Anyone hurt?”

  Scar cast a grin to James and shook his head. “These guys were amateurs.”

  “You’ve got that right,” agreed Potbelly. “My old granther on his deathbed could have bled the lot of ‘em.”

  James cast his gaze across the horizon. Nothing moved. “We better get out of here before someone comes looking.”

  Jiron nodded.

  Shorty stared thoughtfully at a dead soldier and asked, “Should we take their uniforms?” He turned and glanced to James. “Might be able to fake our way through.”

  James shook his head. “Wouldn’t do us any good once past the Tears of the Empress. We’ll be in Cytok’s territory and from what Illan said, soldiers of one Warlord are not welcomed in the lands of another.”

  They waited just long enough for Potbelly to scavenge coins and other valuables from the dead, and for Shorty to retrieve his knives. After that, they headed south with all speed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Late the following afternoon, movement was once again detected off to the south. This time however, it wasn’t a patrol out looking for ne’er-do-wells or an easy mark. A caravan consisting of over two-score wagons traveled slowly across the horizon. Accompanying riders rode throughout the long column.

  An oasis, long devoid of its life-giving water and filled with decaying remnants of its former glory, gave scant shelter to James and the rest as they considered their next course of action.

  Jiron gazed at the caravan. “It must be headed for Korazan.”

  “Possibly,” agreed Scar. “They’ll have to take the road out of Akai if they are.”

  Akai was a small town nestled along the northern shore of the great desert lake known as the Tears of the Empress. There, the road from Zereth-Alin split, sending spurs along the lake’s eastern and western shores. James planned staying to the west in order to avoid Korazan. He had done much damage to that city and freed a good portion of its slaves during the war. They would not have forgotten him.

  “There are far too many eyes upon the road for us to slip through unnoticed.” Turning to James, Jiron gestured so as to encompass everyone. “Word will spread of a band of northerners coming out of the desert and heading south. Someone’s bound to come looking.”

  James nodded.

  Once past Akai, they would be in lands Lord Cytok considered his. Though the area abutting the Tears of the Empress was contested by the northern warlord, Kazan, Illan’s spy network knew it to be token at best and that Warlord Kazan held no great sway beyond Akai. Soldiers of both sides patrolled that area and clashes between them were common. Word had it that mages rode with several of Lord Cytok’s border patrols. Illan’s informants had been unable to determine their skill and power. Though any mage, even one of meager ability, would shift the balance of power in any engagement.

  “We shall remain here until nightfall, then cross under cover of darkness.”

  Scar flashed an irritated look.

  “You disagree?” James asked.

  Glancing first to Potbelly then to Tinok and Shorty, Scar’s gaze finally returned to James. “Yes. What do we care if anyone sees us? We should forge straight through; and woe to anyone so foolish as to try and stop us.”

  “So, you want us to leave a trail of blood from here all the way to Corillian?” the look of disgust on his face was clear.

  “Such a move would put those with whom we wish to reunite in terrible danger,” Jiron argued.

  Potbelly laughed. “What? Do you think anyone could ride faster than us? We’d beat anyone there.”

  Jiron turned on him. “Have you forgotten those portals within Dmon-Li’s temples?”

  He didn’t look convinced. “They were all destroyed.”

  “We do not know that,” Miko said. “The Dark God yet retains a presence upon this world.”

  “And until we know who was behind the attack on my island, I will not tip my hand prematurely. They believe me gone, or dead. Until I stand in the presence of Meliana and Kenny, we will take every precaution where their safety is concerned.

  “We do not know why those who attacked did not take them. They could very well have been allowed to escape in the hopes that should I return, I will seek them out.”

  Rounding on Scar, he added, “The last thing we need is a line of carnage pointing straight to them. Understood?” />
  Scar nodded. “Understood.”

  “Good.”

  Stalking away, James caught Jiron’s nod of approval. His friend moved to join him.

  “Our road ahead will be difficult enough without the entire countryside raised against us.”

  James shook his head then sat upon a fallen tree.

  Jiron came to stand next to him then glanced back at the others. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

  “I’ve half a mind to send them home.”

  “That would not be wise.” Returning his gaze to his friend, he could see that it was more frustration and worry over loved ones than any real desire to rid himself of Scar and Potbelly that had prompted him to make such a declaration.

  Sighing, James nodded. “I know. It’s just that there are too many unknowns about what is going on.”

  “Do you truly believe that Meliana and Kenny are being watched?”

  “It’s what I would do were I them. And until I learn the truth, I dare not take the risk that they are not.”

  Off a bit where the others gathered, Potbelly could be seen regaling a rapt Kip and Jira, along with several amused priests and pit fighters, with a tale most likely comprised of exploits far beyond the realm of believability.

  “A couple hours until nightfall,” Jiron said. “Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

  “I doubt if sleep will come; too much on my mind.”

  Catching sight of his daughter’s wave to come join her, Jiron waved back. “Well, see if you can. We’ve still a long way to go.” Moving off, he made his way over to Jira and sat next to her whereupon she promptly crawled into his lap.

  James smiled a sad smile. If only Kenny were here to do the same. How he missed his family. Leaving the others to play audience to Potbelly, he remained where he was and allowed his mind to wander the many roads of wondrous, bygone days.

  With naught but a sliver of moon overhead, it was difficult in the extreme to determine if travelers were about. Scar and Potbelly took the lead as they departed the dry oasis and headed for the road.

  It was unlikely for anyone to be traveling at this late hour. Throughout the deepening dusk, traffic had become increasingly sparse. During the final hour before light faded altogether, only the silhouette of a lone horseman appeared.

  Other than the sound of hooves on dirt, the night was quiet. Not even a breeze disturbed the calm. Making the road without incident, they hurried across and then rode long into the sheltering darkness. By the time they halted for the night, miles of barren countryside separated them from the road to Akai.

  A fire was out of the question. It would be a beacon announcing their presence to anyone nearby. They dared not risk it. Shorty pulled first watch and while the others laid out blankets and prepared to sleep, he listened to the night.

  Nocturnal creatures both aerial and those that scurried upon the ground went about their regular routines. Those that flew hunted, those upon the ground darted and hid; the sounds they made reassured the knifer that others were not in the area. Animals tended to be quiet and still when men were about.

  As he worked out a circuitous route that would circumnavigate the sleepers, he couldn’t help but chuckle as Scar and Potbelly grumbled to each other. He knew they were the best of friends, each willing to lay down his life for the other, but if one didn’t know them they would wonder at such a thought. Sometimes they bickered like an old married couple.

  It was good to be back doing something again. Working at the Pits for Scar and Potbelly wasn’t as exciting as traveling with James. Things always seemed to get dicey when he was about. Already, they’ve had to make a quick escape back at Al-Ziron, take out a patrol, and here they were sneaking through a land that should the powers-that-be realize they were there, would spare no expense to see them destroyed. Yes, it was good to be on the road with The Dark Mage.

  He still hadn’t figured out why Scar and Potbelly had insisted on coming along when Tinok let slip his plans to accompany James and Jiron. Sure, they liked adventure as much as the next, but they enjoyed managing the Pits more. It brought in coins daily and they didn’t have to do anything other than allow strangers, and some not-so-strangers, to risk their lives.

  Time passed as he completed circuit after circuit; keeping on the move helped ward off the onset of sleep. Every once in a while, he would pause and keep silent as he stood motionless in order to listen to the night. When nightly sounds continued unabated, he would resume his trek.

  Snores and sleep-mumblings gradually rose to form an undertone to the night. Other than Shorty, one other had yet to succumb to the siren that draws one to the realm of sleep.

  Jira watched Shorty’s silhouette move in the partial moonlight. She waited until the others were fast asleep, and he was on the far side of camp before slipping from beneath her covers. In her hand she held an apple, a tasty tidbit to entice her Little Brother to show himself.

  She thought of the earth spirit with the dark patch shaped like a crescent moon around the outer edge of its left eye as hers. She felt there was a bond between them, like it was her friend. Why else would it return time and again?

  It had been several days since she had been able to sneak away from the others. The adults seemed to think that she couldn’t take care of herself in the dark by herself. But she could! Maybe when she was a little girl of four she couldn’t, but now she was five, nearly six and no longer a baby that needed watching. But her father and the others didn’t seem to realize that. And so she waited until the others fell asleep and Shorty was the farthest away his trek would take him before she left her bedroll.

  She had tried several times without success to entice her Little Brother in coming to where she lay beneath her blanket in camp. But it had never appeared. Her Uncle James had said they were shy and that they didn’t like being around people. But they liked being around her. Or at least hers did.

  Moving through the sleepers, she had almost made it when she heard Shorty’s voice.

  “Jira?”

  Freezing in place, she turned back to find him coming toward her.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  Her little mind whirled with possible replies, but fear that her secret would be discovered caused her tongue to be glued in place and prevented her from speaking.

  “You best get back to your blanket, Jira. The night is no place for a little girl. You might get lost.”

  Glancing to where Potbelly was snoring quite loudly, she silently thought, Not likely. “I needed to relieve myself.”

  “Okay, then. But make it quick and let me know when you have returned.”

  “Okay, Uncle Shorty.”

  Her plans ruined, she walked a short distance away. There, she laid her apple on the ground and paused only a minute or two in the hopes that her Little Brother would appear. But Shorty was not far off and looking in her direction. Remaining as long as she dared, she whispered, “Good night, Little Brother,” then hurried back to camp.

  Under Shorty’s watchful eye, she returned to her blanket and settled in to sleep. Despite being mad at not being able to be there when her Little Brother appeared, she couldn’t keep awake for long and soon drifted off to sleep.

  They got an early start the following morning. Dawn had barely broken before sleepers were roused and a quick meal consumed. Scar and Potbelly again led the way as the group headed deeper into the Empire.

  In the distance off to their left, the beginnings of the day’s travelers were seen moving upon the road to Akai. Ahead and to the west lay long expanses of lands teetering between being scrubland and desert with but a single farm visible off to their right. Past experience told them that farther south, this area of small growth and sparse trees would degenerate altogether to inhospitable desert. But such a landscape lay days away.

  Hours passed as they forged deeper into the scrublands. The few farms they encountered were easily avoided. It wasn’t until late morning when seven riders emerged from the southern horizon. An attempt to
veer west proved unsuccessful at avoiding their attention. Unerringly, the riders altered course and made straight for them.

  James brought them to a halt upon feeling the unmistakable tingling sensation that came with the workings of magic.

  “They have a mage.”

  Already, the cowled figure could be made out where he rode beside the lead rider.

  Father Keller turned to James. “Black Hawk said we might find mages with their patrols.”

  “I doubt if he’s a match for The Dark Mage,” Potbelly said.

  “Maybe so, but should he and I exchange magic, that will alert every mage in the area. We dare not risk it. Not just yet.”

  “Not a problem,” Scar assured him. “You let me and Potbelly handle the mage.”

  “You got another magic charm, Scar?”

  Turning to Shorty, Scar shook his head. “Not exactly.” Then to James he said, “Trust me. You won’t have to do anything.”

  James glanced to Jiron who didn’t look very certain.

  Potbelly moved his horse to within inches of Scar’s and the group waited for the arrival of the patrol.

  Six soldiers accompanied the leader and mage; four carried crossbows. These riders didn’t bear any insignia such as the ones encountered earlier. They merely wore the traditional uniform of the Empire. Lord Cytok maintained that he was now Emperor and thus retained the uniform as is. His predecessor had “died” during the explosions that took out Dmon-Li’s temples. Some questioned that assertion, believing that Lord Cytok had merely rid himself of the last impediment to becoming Emperor during the ensuing confusion and panic. Unsurprisingly, those who had voiced such speculation tended to disappear shortly afterward. In any event, he did have the largest army and nearly all the mages that hadn’t fallen during the war.

  Though the mage’s hood was in place, it did little to hide his features. The mage was young. If he was more than two years Kip’s senior James would have been surprised. Most likely, he had been an apprentice at the time of the war. The Empire tended to start the training of their mages at a young age; eight to ten had been the norm.