Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two

by Brian S. Pratt

  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, a signpost appeared from out of the moon-shrouded landscape. The sign itself was comprised of three boards, each bearing hastily scrawled lettering in the Empire’s tongue.

  Though the appearance of the signpost itself, in an area far from any road, drew their interest, it was the three human skulls resting against its base that caused them to stop. There was just enough moonlight for the riders to distinguish their unmistakable characteristics.

  “What is this?”

  Scar glanced back to James, who in turn looked at Azhan. “Something we need to know?”

  The mage hesitated only a moment before replying, “No, Master.”

  “He lies.”

  No sooner had Miko announced the mage’s duplicity than Tinok’s knife appeared. He took hold of the mage’s tunic and laid the blade against his throat. “I knew we couldn’t trust him.”

  Father Vickor summoned the power of Morcyth and his hand was enveloped with its white glow. The emanating light allowed the sign to be seen in greater detail.

  “Look here.”

  With his other hand, the priest pointed to the sign’s lower left corner and the trio of dots forming the points of a triangle with lines running between them yet not touching. It was the symbol of Dmon-Li’s Warrior Priests.

  “He’s playing us for fools!” Tinok exclaimed. The set of his face said he was prepared to end the young mage’s life right then.

  James held up his hand, “Wait.” To Azhan he asked, “What is this?”

  Gulping hard around the blade pressed to his throat produced a drop of blood, Azhan worked to still his fear of dying and spoke.

  “Tapu is said to be cursed, Master. The sign warns all travelers to go no further.”

  “Cursed?” Scar snarled.

  James waved for Tinok to move the blade away. “Is this why the bridge is not guarded?”

  Azhan nodded. “Yes, Master.”

  “What is the curse?”

  “Some believe it is the manifestation of the god Dmon-Li’s wrath for what happened during the war. Others that it is a deviltry concocted by,” he glanced nervously to James, “The Dark Mage, set to bring misery and suffering, for…that is what…he likes to do to people.”

  Looking disgusted, James shook his head. “It wasn’t me. And just so you know, I do not like bringing misery and suffering to others.”

  “How does the curse manifest?”

  Turning to Miko, Azhan replied, “Loss of strength, withering of flesh, and death.”

  Scar cursed. “You didn’t think that worth mentioning?”

  Fear sprang anew upon the features of the young mage; he remained silent.

  “He plans to get us killed!” Shorty exclaimed.

  “No, Master!”

  Returning his gaze to James, Azhan emphatically shook his head. “That was not my intention.”

  “Then what was?” Father Vickor asked.

  Azhan remained silent.

  “Well?” James asked.

  Though fear was clearly etched upon his young features, Azhan met his master’s gaze. “You needed a way of crossing the Ti-Migala River that would allow you to avoid detection. Every bridge is guarded; crossing at Tapu is the only way.”

  “Better to kill a few guards then risk getting cursed.”

  James glanced to Scar, then turned to Miko.

  “What do you think?”

  Shrugging, Miko nodded to the sign. “Something prompted them to post this.” He gazed off through the darkness in the direction of Tapu. “I do not sense anything.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Potbelly shifted in his saddle. “Maybe it’s a curse that gets you only when you get close to it.”

  “Could be a proximity triggered release,” agreed James. “Though I think the reason we can’t sense anything is because we’re not close enough. We do have a High Priest with us should this curse prove real.”

  Scar didn’t look convinced. He gestured to Miko. “No offense, but he’s a bit new at this whole High Priest thing. This could be something beyond his ability to handle.”

  Father Vickor snorted.

  “Our Reverend Father is more than capable to deal with whatever may arise.”

  Kip bristled a bit himself at the thought that his High Priest was somehow inadequate.

  “I’m sure,” James interjected before things got heated, “that between Miko and I, we can deal with it. Now, let’s proceed.”

  Scar motioned for James to take the lead.

  “What,” chided Shorty, “scared of a little curse?”

  Flashing the knifer a glare filled with ire, Scar shook his head. “It only seems prudent for James to lead when there’s a likelihood of encountering magic.”

  James nodded. “I agree.” Moving to take the lead, he was joined by Miko.

  “Let someone else eat dust for a while.”

  Chuckling, James rode past the sign and headed for Tapu.

  Father Vickor gave the sign one last worried look before releasing the power of Morcyth, allowing the shadows to return. He nudged his horse into motion. The dark somehow felt more ominous than it had a moment before.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Despite James’ boast that he and Miko could handle anything, it was with no small amount of trepidation that he continued toward Tapu.

  What was this curse? If it was bad enough for the Empire to completely vacate a town and post warnings to keep others away, could he handle it?

  Five minutes past the sign, his skin began to tingle. A sidelong glance to Miko showed that he felt it too.

  “Magic,” he whispered so as not to alarm the others.

  Miko nodded. “There is nothing malign about it.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  He continued leading their party forward until a small, dark mass appeared out of the shadows. Moving closer revealed it to be the remains of a wild dog, ones that were common to the area. Even in the faint moonlight they could see that its skin was shriveled tightly against its bones.

  Miko dismounted and knelt next to it. He pointed toward the head. “Looks like it was trying to leave Tapu.” Calling the power of Morcyth to him, he caused his hand to glow, providing sufficient light for a more detailed inspection.

  Taking a stick from off the ground, he turned the dog over.

  “No wounds. It appears to have just up and died.”

  A few pokes against the skin showed it to be tough and leathery.

  “The curse get it?”

  Glancing up to Scar, Miko shrugged. “Difficult to say.”

  “But it could have.”

  Nodding, Miko said, “Yes, Scar. Based on the description of the curse Azhan gave us, it most definitely could have.”

  The Master of the Pit nervously glanced to the shadows surrounding them.

  “We should head for the bridge and put this accursed place behind us,” Potbelly said.

  Miko released the power and mounted.

  James glanced in the direction of the river. “There’s no reason we have to go through Tapu.”

  “True,” agreed Miko. “Following the river may be the prudent course of action.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  Moving from the road, James led them toward the river. The tingling sensation remained constant. But once they reached the water’s edge and made for the bridge, it intensified.

  Several minutes passed before Father Vickor rubbed his arm and asked, “Do you feel that?” He glanced to Father Keller.

  “Yes, I do,” agreed his fellow priest.

  “It’s magic,” announced James from the front. “It’s been with us for some time.”

  “Magic?” queried Scar.

  “It’s not very strong,” James assured. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Scar snorted. “Nothing to worry about? Try explaining that to the people who used to live here.”

  Potbelly nodded.

  Surety laid in his words, not
in his heart as James continued leading the others along the riverbank. The steadily increasing tingles running along his skin worried him far more than he let on. Had the river been fordable, even if doing so was taking a risk, he would have given up on trying to gain the bridge and crossed right there. Unfortunately, the river was far too deep for them to make the attempt. The bridge was the only way across if they wished to remain unnoticed.

  He scanned the distance ahead in an attempt to determine how far they had yet to go in order to reach the bridge. But all he could make out were periodic areas where moonlight sparkled upon the water. The darkness maintained its hold upon the location of the bridge and refused to give it up.

  “If we don’t….” James began just as a momentary surge of powerful magic emanated from somewhere within the deserted town of Tapu.

  Horses reared, men cried and Father Vickor was thrown from his horse before it bolted off into the night.

  White light flared as the priests summoned the power of Morcyth. Those still mounted managed to gain control of their mounts.

  Leaping from his horse, Father Keller went to see to his friend and found him a bit bruised but no worse for the fall.

  “What in the name of….”

  “Quiet!” shouted James, cutting off Potbelly. “Is everyone alright?” He glanced to where Father Vickor rose to his feet and received a nod.

  “It was not directed at us,” Miko announced.

  As if to answer the unspoken question running through everyone’s mind, a dark object fell from the sky and landed among them.

  In the priestly light, the body of a night owl could clearly be seen. Its misshapen body lay twisted in the dirt.

  “What happened to it, Father?” Jira asked.

  Jiron looked to James.

  Returning the look with an uncertain one, James dismounted and approached the bird. Using the tip of his knife, he flipped it over.

  Shrunken flesh, leathery texture; it was identical to the state in which they had found the wild dog earlier. Considering the surge of magic felt just prior to the bird’s fall, there was little doubt as to what caused its death. He stood and turned to Azhan.

  “I thought you said there were stages to the curse; loss of strength, withering of flesh, and then death.”

  “That is what I was told, Master.”

  Miko dismounted and came to join James, as did the others. “It would seem the nature of the curse has changed.”

  “You got that right,” Scar said as he nudged the dead owl with the toe of his boot. “Now it’s one moment you’re alive, the next you’re dead.”

  “And we’re next.”

  James glanced to Shorty, held his gaze a moment, then nodded. “You may be right.” He then turned his attention to the ribbon of moon-dabbled water winding its way through the darkness.

  “Azhan, any idea how far to the bridge?”

  “No, Master.”

  Miko came next to him. “What do you propose?”

  James kept his eye on an expanse of river far ahead. Press on or head back? They would lose time and risk detection if they left Tapu and crossed elsewhere. But dared they continue?

  From the river, his gaze traveled toward where he believed the surge of magic originated. Though Azhan said the place was cursed, and the sign affirmed that belief, he simply could not shake the feeling that the surge of power he felt was something else. It had attacked the bird; drained it of all its energy. A defensive spell? One designed to kill any living thing that encroached within a specified area?

  Such a thing was possible; he had implemented similar defenses for his island; though his were in “sleep” mode until activated. Moreover, who would need such a powerful defense? A mage perhaps that feared retaliation for a certain island attack?

  The more he thought about it, the more the idea that they may have stumbled upon the mage’s lair made sense. If the Empire were behind the attack, then they would have thought little to afford the mage a base of operations, even at the expense of the former inhabitants of Tapu. After all, what better way to keep people away and make ready in secret than to kill off the locals and post signs saying there was a curse. Had James less a sense of morality, he too may have done something similar to maintain his own privacy.

  He turned to Miko. “Do you think Morcyth will protect you from what killed the owl?”

  “Are you thinking of continuing to the bridge?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No. I’m thinking of investigating the source of the attack.”

  “Curse, you mean.”

  James glanced to Scar. “I don’t think it is a curse. Curses don’t act like this.”

  Scar didn’t look convinced. “How do you know?”

  “Call it a hunch. If it was an attack, something that powerful must be hiding something interesting.”

  “Like a mage of considerable power?” Jiron asked.

  He thought Jiron might be the first to make that intuitive leap. “Exactly.” Turning back to Miko, he asked, “So how about it? Care to check this out with me?”

  The high priest nodded. To Father Keller he said, “You and Father Vickor remain with the others.”

  “But you may have need of us, Reverend Father.”

  He dismissively waived away the suggestion. “We will be fine.”

  “Scar,” James said, “you and the others go back downriver several miles until we deal with this.”

  “How will we know when you’re done?”

  Jiron chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll have some idea.”

  Frowning, James shot him an annoyed look, then sighed. “You’re probably right. Come on, Miko. Let’s see what secrets lay within Tapu.”

  As he mounted, he heard Scar say, “Shorty, you take Father Vickor and see if you can’t locate his horse. The rest of you, let’s get out of harm’s way.”

  “Be careful, Uncle.”

  James turned his horse to find Jira looking at him with big, fearful eyes.

  “Not to worry, Jira. Your uncle Miko and I have handled this sort of thing before.”

  Worry gradually faded away and her little head bobbed. “Okay.”

  “See you in a bit.” Then is a quieter voice, one intended to be heard by just her, he added, “Keep an eye on your father. Don’t let him get lost in the dark.”

  All fear and worry vanished as a grin took its place. “I’ll do that, Uncle,” she whispered back.

  James gave her a thumb’s up and then turned his horse back toward Tapu and moved to join Miko. As the two trotted off, the white glow of Morcyth sprang to fully envelope Miko and his horse while a shimmering shield did the same for James and his.

  The two took their time approaching the outskirts of Tapu. James sent his senses forward to ferret out what lay ahead between their present position and the first set of houses. Other than flora common to the area, there was little to indicate the lair of a powerful mage; there was, however, the fact that every few feet or so they encountered another dark lump, the remains of some living creature fallen prey to the “curse” of Tapu.

  It wasn’t until the shadowy outline of a farmhouse came into view that the attack struck.

  Wham!

  A massive surge of magic hit them square on. An eruption of reddish-orange light exploded upon contact with their shields to shatter the darkness. Both their steeds reared. Miko kept his under control while James lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Rolling to the side, he barely avoided the stomping hooves of the terrified creature. He released the shield just long enough for the horse to bolt, then brought it back into being.

  Wham!

  The strike hit the fleeing horse in mid-stride. The force of the blow knocked it off its hooves and caused it to sail through the air until landing with a thud some yards away. It didn’t get up.

  Miko rode to his side as he got to his feet.

  “Are you okay?”

  James nodded. “A little shaken, but nothing broken.” He glanced to where his horse lay. “Guess
I’m walking from here.”

  Miko dismounted. “It might be better that way.”

  Laying a hand against his horse’s neck, he whispered a prayer to Morcyth and the glow continued to surround the creature as it turned to head toward where the rest of their party waited.

  He noticed James’ quizzical look.

  “He will find his way.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  This time they moved quickly to the rear of a single-story home. A dark opening not far to their right indicated the presence of a window. Moving toward the opening, they paused briefly. The light surrounding Miko did little to dispel the darkness within the abode; illuminating just far enough to reveal what they took to be the corner of a bed.

  James indicated with a nod that they should proceed to the end of the wall and continue working their way deeper within Tapu.

  At the edge of the home, James glanced across the street to another similar structure standing silent witness to the encroachment of these two visitors; then down the street leading to the heart of Tapu. Somewhere in that direction lay the source of the magic.

  Its presence now was quite strong. Though inactive for the moment, James could sense the power waiting to be unleashed. The mage must have accumulated quite a reservoir of magic if he could feel its presence this far away. It was similar in nature to the feeling one of his crystals gave off, one that had reached its limit and could hold no more.

  A tap on the shoulder caused him to jump before realizing that he had been motionless in contemplation for several moments. Nodding to Miko, he kept close to the side of the home as he turned the corner and moved into town.

  His senses still detected nothing that would indicate that something lived in Tapu. They were able, however, to see the emanating presence of the stored magic. It was like the sun when it hits the horizon, deep red and angry. Of the mage, there was still no sign.

  Half a dozen streets and a smattering of buildings lay between them and the magic. Moving out from the side of the building, he made his way down the street and toward the next intersection.

  Wham!

  Magic slammed into their protective shields and knocked them back a step. A momentary flicker in the static mass of magic had occurred half a second before the attack. Attack, though, wasn’t quite the right word. It had been more like a leeching; an attempt to draw magic from them.