Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) (24 page)

“
If
I do not kill him it could mean my life,” Sane stated. His tone did not suggest
fear, merely fact.

“
Then
tell the king that he is dead,” she whispered for fear of prying ears, “or tell
him that you could not find the boy. That is close enough to the truth.”

Sane
looked to Kellen silently seeking guidance. The warrior simply nodded. He knew
the sorcerer would make the honorable decision without his encouragement even
if Sane did not know it himself.

“
Very
well, I will leave him in your care.” The sorcerer slumped in his chair as if a
great weight had just been taken from him.

Avelice
got up from her seat and leaned over Sane. She kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“Thank you, brother. You are doing the right thing,” she said before she turned
and walked out.

“
Welcome
all!” Priest Mantellus shouted with a wide grin and open arms as if he could
embrace the entire congregation that had come to worship Ashura on this holy
day. Throngs of people entered the temple on the eve of Sunshillah, the first
day of the new spring and the celebration of new life honoring the revered
goddess. It was fitting in some small way that Mantellus Firekin found himself
taking on the role of a priest in the service of the goddess on this day when
new beginnings were celebrated considering how different his life now was
compared to just a few years earlier.

“
Blessings
to you, good sir,” said an old woman as she scurried past the priest. Her back
was hunched over from a lifetime of hard work, but otherwise she appeared to be
a very healthy and happy person.
No doubt
from the virtues of living a clean and moral life
, thought Mantellus
earnestly.

“
And
to you, dear daughter,” returned Mantellus with a nod. “Please let me help you
to your seat,” he added cheerfully taking the old woman's arm gently in his
own. Their pace was slow as they found their way to one of the pews near the
front of the temple and they talked of simple things like the beautiful trees
that have grown over decades to form the walls and how they give the temple
such a serene feeling or the wonderful weather they were having recently. It
was so sunny and warm, but the heat was not yet overbearing, as it would soon be
in the summer months. Mantellus admired the elderly matron for growing old with
dignity and absently wondered if when her time came she would die with as much
grace as she now possessed. The new priest had seen many men who were
supposedly strong and brave that when faced with the absolute certainty of
their end cried and pleaded for mercy. It was almost humorous to think that the
heartless magician, Mantellus Firekin, ever had any mercy to give.

Not
like the priests of Ashura with their odd sense of compassion. They understood
what it meant to give of themselves. Three years had passed since Mantellus was
dragged into their temple back in Colum. His body was covered in dirt and blood
from his ordeal leaving Baj and he was not sure how he made it there. The now
priest vaguely remembered people helping him get to the temple, but even after
so much time it was all a blur like a half-remembered dream.

The
priests healed him. They gave him a place to sleep and food, but Mantellus saw
an opportunity to help himself further. He stayed nearby attending their masses
and acting the devoted servant to the goddess all in an attempt to get close
enough to steal one of their holy magic staffs. However, in time he grew to
understand there were many advantages, beyond the protection they offered, to
being a priest and gave himself over to the order in body if not in heart. He
had to admit that moments like this gave him a new appreciation of the world he
lived in. His father taught him as a boy that the world was full of pain and
suffering and so when he became a magician being hated and feared felt like a
natural progression to his life. It was like he had moved to the top of the
food chain and everyone else was just there to feed his desires and satisfy his
curiosities. Such an existence had its fun moments to be sure, but being
admired was a new and surprisingly welcome experience.

“
Will
you be delivering the sermon?” asked the old matron breaking Mantellus’ train
of thought.

“
No,
dear lady, I will not. That honor falls to our leader, High Priest August
Rankin,” and with a bow he went about his business greeting the rest of the
exuberant citizenry.

After
a time the crowd in the back of the temple parted from the doorway, moving to
either side as the sounds of horns blew, signaling that the royal family had
come to partake in the celebration. The royal guard escorted them as they took
their seats in a place of honor on the dais. King Kale and his wife, Wendi,
both wore red silk to commemorate the holiday. The king was dressed in a finely
made shirt of the highest quality and tailored brown pants that offset his
simple solid gold crown and the queen wore a flowing gown with gold embroidery.
Their son, Prince Janus was dressed similarly to his father except his shirt
was a dark purple and his crown was not nearly as large.

A
part of the killer-turned-priest wanted to destroy these people regardless of
the personal consequences. It would be so easy to point his staff at them and
send a wall of fire across the room incinerating them, along with a good
portion of the congregation, in an instant. Their burned bodies would be a
testament to the power of magicians and Mantellus would go down in history as
the man who ended the royal line in one mighty stroke, but unlike Xander Necros,
he had no desire for political power. He cared nothing for ruling or for the
fate of magicians beyond his own freedom. Life was so much more interesting
when there was a bit of anonymity and danger involved.

Once
the new spring sermon began and the high priest began pontificating at the
alter Mantellus slipped out a side entrance to get some air. He heard the
Sunshillah sermon before and it held little interest for a man far more
interested in endings than beginnings. The priest looked around making sure that
no one was paying him any notice before he left the temple grounds and began
strolling in a way that appeared to be almost aimlessly through the city.

Mollifas
was the capital of Aurelia and was by far the largest city on the continent.
After an hour of walking, the priest was well into the warehouse district
before his steps began to quicken. The crowds were much smaller in this area
and Mantellus had to force his own excitement down as he thought about what was
to come soon.

It
was another half hour before the priest stopped to look around and make sure
that he was not followed. Seeing no one, he walked a few more streets until he
was in front of an abandoned storage building. He entered hurriedly, but again,
not so fast as to attract any unwarranted attention from any passerby that the
priest may have missed.

The
interior of the building was empty or at least it appeared to be to the naked
eye. Mantellus pulled his priest's staff free of its harness as he approached
the rear wall. He pointed it at the wall and said, “Release,” causing the wall
to shimmer and reveal a door and three closed windows that led to an office.

The
priest entered and said, “Good evening, sweetheart,” to the young woman lying
tied to the dirty bed pushed up against one of the interior walls. His captive
was no more than fifteen or sixteen years and her dress showed she came from a
family of means. Her hair was golden brown and her eyes were a shade of light
green that Mantellus found intriguing. It was her eyes that brought her to his
attention. Those green eyes were unique and seemed to draw the priest in. They
made Mantellus want to know her, but not in the way that a man knows a woman,
but in the way that an artist knows his muse. There was no denying that there
was a certain art to death and Mantellus fancied himself a gifted artist.

“
If
I remove your gag do you promise not to scream? If you scream then I will be
forced to hit you,” the dark priest told his caged bird very calmly. He did not
fear anyone hearing her and only gagged the young woman, because her screaming
the night before ceaselessly irritated him. She nodded in compliance and he
removed the gag taking a seat next to her in the only chair in the room.

“
Why
have you taken me?” she asked her face was wet with tears, but she still had an
air of defiance. Mantellus smiled appreciatively knowing he chose well when he
picked this one. She had fire buried deep inside her- just like him.

Ignoring
her question the priest said, “There is no need to discuss such things yet, my
daughter. If there is one thing I have learned since becoming a priest it is to
be more patient. Let us get to know each other a bit first. I am Mantellus…”
When she did not answer he prodded, “And you are?”

“
I
am the Lady Tian Nightwind, daughter of Warlord Ethiel Nightwind, ruler in his
king's stead of the Western Province of the North Lands!” she said with the
assurance of one who claimed the title many times in the past. She no doubt
expected that her father's name would scare the priest.

Mantellus
whistled. “That is impressive. I am Father Mantellus, servant to the goddess,
Ashura, formerly Mantellus Firekin, journeyman fire elementalist and former
resident of Baj Prison,” he bowed from his seat as he introduced himself in a
faux display of courtesy.

“
If
it is coin that you desire my father will pay handsomely for my release,” the
Lady Tian ventured.

“
I
wish it were that simple, but there is something I desire far more than mere
coin. It is difficult to explain,” Mantellus paused looking for the right
words, then added, “It is more of a hunger that must be sated- a primal need if
you will.”

The
Lady Tian's eyes darted to her bright yellow dress with many ruffles and
frills. Her body tensed and Mantellus smiled knowingly. “No, child, that is not
what I wish of you. If it were, then our time together would have been done
long before now. Although what I have in mind- well, let me say you will be
less happy with what I have planned than if I were to simply force myself upon
you.”

“
You
mean to kill me?”

“
A
mundane choice of words for an act that is infinitely powerful and, dare I say,
beautiful, but yes, that is what I intend,” Mantellus' smile grew to a wide
toothy grin, “but as I said 'Let us get to know each other a bit’ before the
end comes.”

The
dark priest held his hand flat in front of Lady Tian's face palm up with his
fingers and thumb bent pointing toward the ceiling. Little flames burst from
each digit as if they were five little candles like on a birthday cake. For a
moment he watched as the light from his fingers flickered against Lady Tian's
frightened countenance. Then Mantellus turned his hand over and dug his fingers
into her chest burning through the pretty yellow dress and searing the flesh at
the points of contact.

The
Lady Tian Nightwind, daughter of Warlord Ethiel Nightwind, ruler in his king's
stead of the Western Province of the North Lands, screamed in agony.

“
His
lordship, Ethiel Nightwind, thanks you for your swift arrival,” declared the
courtier, Sevu. His deep bow and formal demeanor did little to hide the old
attendant's concern for the missing Lady Tian. The daughter of his lord and
master had been missing for nearly a week. She disappeared on a trip to the
marketplace to buy a new dress for the Sunshillah festival. Prince Janus would
be at the festival and it had been her wish to impress him.

“
Thank
you for your hospitality, Sevu,” said Sari politely bidding the courtier to
rise. “And this is my apprentice, Marian Lightfoot of Colum. I do not believe
you two have met before. Is his lordship in attendance?”

Marian
nodded to the courtier and politely told him, “It is a pleasure, sir,” but said
nothing more instead choosing to keep her own counsel.

“
The
pleasure is mine,” Sevu told her and added to both of them, “Right this way, my
ladies.” The courtier led them down a long hallway. “Lord Nightwind and his
wife, Edessa, have been beside themselves with worry. They have not left the
estate even to attend the Sunshillah masses or the festivities that started
today. They traveled all this way to visit the king and partake in a little
merriment after all that has happened back home...”

Sari
nodded. “So the rumors are true? The orcs have been crossing the mountains on
your southern border into Lord Nightwind's province. Do you know why?”

“
Who
knows the minds of brutes?” Sevu shrugged.

“
Do
not be so quick to judge,” Sari cautioned. “Orcs have a rough and savage nature
to a certain extent, but they are not mindless predators like ogres and trolls.
If they are making the trek across the Dread Marsh and the mountains beyond
they have a good reason to do so.”

“
Agreed,
I have found the orcs to be an honor-bound if inhospitable race although I have
only had the opportunity to travel into their lands once.” Marian added. The
two rangers looked at each other and smirked sharing a private joke.