Mazael snorted. “They can blame these creatures of theirs on Simonian or whatever necromancer has raised them. When Lord Richard’s army comes and burns their homes, steals their crops, and rapes their women, they can blame that on Mitor.” He wheeled Chariot around. “Sir Nathan, I’d like you to accompany me. They may know of you. If they do, they’ll undoubtedly respect you. Romaria, come as well. You’ve seen these creatures. You can see if their descriptions match your observations. Gerald, watch my back.”
Gerald snorted. “Your back doesn’t usually need watching.”
“Timothy, come as well,” said Mazael. The wizard sat atop the horse Mazael had given him. “Use your arts to watch for any ambush. And keep an eye out for any magic.”
Timothy nodded, closed his eyes, and began spell casting. He tumbled a piece of quartz wrapped with silver wire across his fingers. The crystal glowed when he finished his spell, and he tucked it away in his pocket.
“What spell did you use?” said Romaria.
“Ah...one to sense the presence of foes,” said Timothy. “The spell to sense the presence of magic is far simpler.”
“Good,” said Mazael. “Now let’s go meet Sir Albert and this Brother Silar.”
Mazael felt the villagers watching him as he rode closer, fear on their faces. Not surprising, given the brutality he had seen Mitor display. The crude gates opened with a groaning creak, and Mazael rode Chariot into the village.
The scarred man waited for them. “Sir Albert and Brother Silar will see you in the church."
Demonsouled Page 18
