Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (15 page)

Jira moved to follow her father but
was told to remain in the room with Kip. The way she stomped her
foot and the set of her jaw clearly laid out how she felt about
that.

Taking the steps two at a time, James
slowed his pace to a more moderate level as he reached the bottom.
By the time he had crossed to the main door, Father Vickor was
coming to a halt outside and dismounting.

“Where are the others?”

Father Vickor looked up to see James
striding toward him and Jiron appearing in the doorway a moment
later. He jerked a thumb back toward the road. “They’re waiting at
the junction. Miko felt it best if he and the, uh, others kept out
of Inna’s Bend.”

“Others?” Jiron asked. “Is Tinok with
him?”

The priest nodded. “Yes, he’s there,
too.”

Something about the way he
said
too
gave
James the feeling there was more to the story. “Anyone
else?”

“Uh, you better wait and see for
yourself.”

“Who else did Miko bring?”

Father Vickor grew stubborn and just
said they would find out when they arrived.

James glanced to Jiron and saw the
confusion mirrored in his friend’s face. Turning his attention to
the second-story window above, he saw Kip and Jira
watching.

“Meet us at the stable.”

Kip nodded, then he and Jira
disappeared inside. Very faintly, they heard Jira give a
whoop.

As they accompanied Father Vickor
around back, James asked again, “Come on. Who else has tagged along
on our little adventure?”

“They said they wanted it to be a
surprise.”

“They?” Jiron frowned as he mulled
that over, then…”Not Scar and Potbelly?”

James came to a halt and turned to the
priest. “Is that who’s coming with us?” The look in Father Vickor’s
eye said it all.

Jiron nodded. “I could think of a
worse pair to have along.”

A shift in the priest’s gaze indicated
there was more to it. James stared him down until the priest
sighed. “A short fellow came with them. Has a brace of knives
strapped across his chest.”

Glancing to James, Jiron grinned.
“Shorty.”

“Gonna be like old times.”

One-time pit fighter, Shorty was good
in hand-to-hand with knives, but where his talents truly lay was in
the throwing of them. James recalled the deadly accuracy Shorty had
exhibited during their journeys throughout the war.

James couldn’t help but think that if
any more happened to join their group, they would be in serious
jeopardy of being classified as an army. Not a large one to be
sure, but sizeable enough to cause worry in the locals. Maybe he
could convince Scar, Potbelly, and Shorty to return home. He had no
intention of fighting, merely slipping through to reunite with his
family.

Jira and Kip arrived shortly after
they began saddling the horses and their equipment was stowed upon
the packhorse. Kip bowed to Father Vickor after entering the
stable.

The priest wagged his finger at the
novice. “None of that. On this trip, we put the priesthood behind
us. There are those we may encounter that would look upon us in a
less than favorable light. Just call me Vick.”

Kip grinned. “As you wish,
Vick.”

Laughing, “Vick” slapped young Kip on
the shoulder, then helped with getting the packhorse squared away.
In no time, they were riding from the stable and crossing the
bridge on their way to the main trade route.

A canopied tent stood just off the
road to the south. Its opened air interior revealed several
figures, two of which bore the unmistakable silhouettes of Scar and
Potbelly. Despite James’ reservations about such a large group, he
had to admit, their company wouldn’t be completely devoid of
positives.

Off to the pavilion’s west stood a
line of horses, six being loaded with travel goods and equipment.
The odor of cooking sausage wafted upon the autumn
breeze.

Scar was the first to see their
arrival. He favored dual longswords while his partner Potbelly
wielded a single longsword and knife. With his usual exuberance, he
stalked from the tent with a wide grin upon his face. “Well, as I
live and breathe. If it isn’t the infamous Dark Mage returned from
the dead.”

Potbelly followed his comrade, a
sizeable sausage speared upon his knife. “We thought you
dead.”

Giving them a wave, James replied, “So
does the rest of this world. And let’s pray they continue so for
some time.”

Jiron looked for Tinok and found him
within the tent, remaining next to the fire. His friend glanced his
way but made neither salutation, nor acknowledgement that he had
seen him.

“Miko filled us in on the plan,” Scar
said.

Potbelly came to a stop beside him.
“It’ll be just like old times.”

From the tent, Miko emerged looking
slightly chagrined. “I didn’t think these two would be coming. But
since they already knew and volunteered their services, I thought
to bring them along.”

Dismounting, James looked upon the
pair. The arguments he had prepared as to why they shouldn’t come
remained unspoken now that he stood before them. They were true
companions and friends, willing to lay down their lives for the
others. How could he bring himself to demand they
return?

“Fine. But no more.”

Scar jerked a thumb back toward the
tent. “Shorty’s here too.”

“So Father Vickor said.”

The pair turned a frown toward the
priest. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Shrugging, he said, “They
guessed.”

Jiron came forward and slapped them on
the shoulder. “It’s good to have you along.”

“Well, we couldn’t very well allow you
to have all the fun,” Potbelly said.

“The Pits are fun, but nothing like
adventure on the open road.” Turning to Potbelly, Scar added,
“Remember the time when the princess of Carhali ran afoul of the
Crimson Sorcerer?”

“Do I?” Potbelly replied. “We almost
lost our necks on that one.” Spying Kip and Jira, he went forward
to lend a hand in their dismounting. “She was guarded by a pair of
the meanest…”

James cast a grin to Jiron as the pair
began regaling his daughter and the young novice with yet another
of their improbable exploits. “I see they haven’t
changed.”

Jiron shook his head. “Doubt if they
ever will.”

From the tent, Father Keller shouted.
“Sausage and tubers are ready. Better eat them before they turn
cold.”

Hurrying to the tent, Jiron came to
his boyhood friend. “I’m glad you came.”

Tinok nodded. “Had nothing else to do,
and Miko indicated my coming was important.”

“It is.” Laying a hand upon his
friend’s shoulder, Jiron met a gaze difficult to read. “I am
thankful.”

A small smile cracked the stony
visage. “Friends don’t let friends travel dark roads alone.” The
smile vanished.

Jiron wasn’t sure what to make of
that, but chose to take it positively.

“Uncle Tinok!”

Jira had somehow wormed her way from
the pair of storytellers, leaving Kip to being regaled alone.
Spying Tinok, she leapt for the pit fighter.

Catching her with ease, Tinok smiled
as he spun her about. “How are you doing, little Jira?”

“Fine. We had the most fun adventure;
and I met an earth spirit.”

“An earth spirit?” Tinok glanced to
Jiron for confirmation and arched eyebrows when Jiron nodded. “That
must truly have been exciting.”

“It was!”

Keeping his gaze on Jiron, he said,
“There must be more to the story than Miko led us to
believe.”

The others had gathered around the
fire and were helping themselves to the provided fare.

“Some. We’ll talk more once we’re on
the road.”

Receiving a bowl with two sausages and
half a dozen tubers that were marginally warm, James cleared his
throat to draw the others’ attention.

“Just so everyone understands what we
are planning to do, let me start by saying this will be no simple
jaunt through the Empire so Jiron and I can be reunited with our
families.” He eyed each in turn. “Although, that will be our main
objective.

“Somewhere out there lurks the ones
who sought to destroy me. If they learn that I yet live, we may
find ourselves the focus of devastating power.”

“No one can take you on,” Scar stated.
“You’re the Dark Mage.”

James shook his head. “The person who
assaulted my island met everything I could muster and prevailed. It
was only by pure luck that we three managed to escape with our
lives.”

Through a mouth full of tuber,
Potbelly said, “Miko claimed that once you were no longer on the
island, they didn’t bother with the others remaining at the
manor.”

“That is correct. Since our families
yet live and are free, such would be a safe assumption. We will
stop briefly to consult with Illan and get the latest intelligence
from the Empire and see if he knows who may have been behind the
attack.”

“I still think it’s Lord Cytok,” Jiron
stated. “It is widely known that he wishes you dead.”

“There are many who wish me dead. He
may very well be at the top, but he is not alone.”

“It wouldn’t be him.”

James turned toward Tinok. “What makes
you say that?”

“If he had someone with power enough
to take you out, he would first consolidate his rule over the
Empire. Once his powerbase was secure, then he might consider
risking the loss of such a force to one who took on the best the
Empire had to offer and prevailed. He might wish you dead, but
would never risk all on a single throw of the dice.”

Jiron looked unconvinced. “Still, I
would not discount the possibility.”

Tinok merely shrugged.

Potbelly turned to James. “Are you
planning on paying him a visit?”

“I’m not sure. Such a move would
assuredly make any chance for continuing the belief I am dead,
moot. I doubt if he would keep news of my return
secret.”

“I would agree with that.” Tinok
cracked a half-grin. “I’m sure that even if he had nothing to do
with the attack, he knows it has taken place and that you can no
longer be found. He would spread the knowledge of your return in
the hopes those who attacked the first time might return to finish
the job without risk to him or his forces.”

Jiron glanced to James. “Perhaps it
would be best to avoid Azzac altogether.” Azzac, once the seat of
the Emperor, was now the base of operations for Lord Cytok and
those loyal to him.

“I hadn’t planned making a stop there
in any event. The less entanglements with local forces the
better.”

“You could always travel to Cardri and
take ship from there to Corillian,” suggested Potbelly. “The risks
would be minimal.”

James shook his head. “Such a route
would prolong the time before we could reunite with our families.
Besides, I do hope to be able to ferret out who was behind the
attack.”

After the meal concluded, Miko, Vick,
Keller, and Kip broke down the tent and secured it to one of the
packhorses. They got underway and made good time down the road on
their way to Hawk’s Aerie. Once a keep of the Empire, Illan had
taken it over and now used it as a base of operations to keep
Madoc’s southern border secure.

They made it as far as the town of
Loread, some miles south of Reardon. Once an important trading city
situated on the convergence of two main trade routes, Loread had
been all but destroyed during the Empire’s invasion. Now it was but
a modest town that was gradually recouping its former
glory.

The next morning, they headed out
before the sun rose and reached the hills surrounding Saragon at
midday. Saragon had played no small part in the riddle of what had
happened to the previous priests of Morcyth. James and Jiron had
sneaked within during the enemy’s occupation and discovered a clue
put in place centuries before in anticipation of James’ arrival. It
had been mere chance they had come across it.

Its walls were still undergoing
repairs, and the sight of them brought back memories of the courage
and valor exhibited by those that gave their lives so that James
and Jiron might win free. A glance to Jiron revealed that he, too,
remembered.

Once past, they continued south as the
road followed the river. The sun had hit the horizon when Al-Ziron,
a.k.a. Hawk’s Aerie, came into view.

The keep and defensive wall dominated
the landscape. At the time of James’ last visit, there had been
only a small village not far from the keep’s southern wall. During
the interim, it had blossomed into a sprawling town encompassing
nearly three square miles.

“Illan certainly has been good for
this area.”

Miko nodded. “Al-Ziron is rapidly
growing into a major trade city. Merchants from Madoc, the Empire,
and even a few from the Kirken Federation to the east meet here to
trade.” He pointed off to a large open-air market on the western
edge of the town. “Most of the trading goes on over
there.”