Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (24 page)

“I…I’m not sure.”

Turning back toward the trail ahead,
Potbelly cocked his head to one side. After a moment he shook his
head and said, “It’s gone.”

“What do you think?”

Jiron glanced to James, then returned
his gaze to where the trail ahead passed alongside where part of
the hill had given way some time in the past. Bordering the trail
on the opposite side lay a tangled mass of fallen trees. “Perfect
place for an ambush.”

“Who would there be to ambush us with
Illan and his Raiders in the area?” Shorty asked.

Casting a glance to the
knifer, Jiron shrugged. “Didn’t say there was one, just that it
would be a good place
for
one.”

Potbelly scanned the gap ahead between
the hillside and the trees, but failed to locate whatever had
caught his attention.

Jiron turned to James. “Shall we
continue?”

“Yes, but everyone stay on their
guard.” Despite Scar’s assertion that Potbelly was crazy, he knew
the one-time pit fighter was not prone to nervous imaginings. As
their party resumed heading up the trail, James felt
unease.

Scar took the lead upon reaching the
narrow gap in the trail. He too gave more credence to Potbelly’s
warning than he had led onto. One hand held the reins while the
other rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it forth
should danger develop.

Moving into the gap, he followed the
trail as it moved beyond the collapsed hillside and into an area
where the land rose at a greater angle than what they had yet
encountered. Trees sparsely dotted the landscape.

On his right, the mass of fallen trees
came to an end. As he passed beyond, a flash of white caught his
eye. It appeared for only a brief moment before vanishing behind a
tall oak tree.

Drawing his sword, Scar pointed the
blade toward the tree. “There. Saw something.”

Potbelly drew his sword and came up
next to his friend. “What was it?”

“Not sure. It was white,
though.”

Jira turned a nervous look toward her
father. “A ghost?”

He gave her a reassuring grin. “I
don’t think so.”

Scar and Potbelly nudged their horses
toward the tree with Shorty coming up behind. Father Keller hurried
to join them.

Overhearing Jira’s question, he
glanced to Miko who shook his head. “It is of this world. Of that I
am certain.”

“What is it, then?”

Miko shrugged. “We shall see soon
enough.”

Scar kicked his horse into a trot and
covered the distance to the tree. Keeping distance between him and
whatever lay behind it, he circled around to the left; Potbelly
went to the right.

“Hey!” he cried as he came to a sudden
stop. “It’s a woman.”

“Is she okay?” Concern on his face,
Miko hurried forward.

Ignoring the question, Scar dismounted
and took a slow couple steps toward her. “Ma’am?”

She neither glanced his way nor
indicated in any manner that she was aware of his presence; merely
looked off in the distance to some faraway point. The white that
Scar had seen was that of the woman’s nightgown. Her feet were
bare, muddy, and bore many small scratches; a face that must have
at one time been beautiful was drawn and gaunt.

Scar came to a stop several feet from
her and cast a questioning glance over her head to where Potbelly
still sat atop his horse. Potbelly shrugged and shook his
head.

By this time, Miko had ridden to where
Scar’s horse stood and dismounted. The glow of Morcyth surrounded
him.

“What’s…?” Scar began but stopped when
Miko waved him silent.

“Scar, Potbelly, Shorty, search the
area. See if there are others,” Jiron said.

Potbelly glanced uneasily at the girl
that now stood enveloped in the glow of Morcyth, then
nodded.

“Don’t move out of our line of sight,”
James advised. When the others glanced to him he added, “Just don’t
go too far.”

“Right.” Scar returned to his horse
and the three former pit fighters moved off to canvas the
area.

“Is she okay, Father?”

Jiron glanced to his daughter and saw
the worry in her eyes. “I don’t know, Jira. If she can be helped,
your uncle is the one to do it.”

She couldn’t take her eyes from the
woman. In a small voice, she said, “I hope so.”

Fathers Keller and Vickor came to
stand next to Miko but remained silent so as not to disturb him.
Kip joined them but looked out of place and unsure what he should
do.

Everyone remained silent while the
glow surrounded her. When it at last vanished, Miko turned to James
and shook his head.

“There is nothing.”

“Nothing? What do you
mean?”

“Her mind is gone. Some rudimentary
abilities remain in place, but what made her who she was is no
more.”

“Do you have any idea how this
happened?” James asked.

“Magic. There is a trace of recent
activity about her.”

“Maybe this happened to the rest of
Tinker?”

All eyes turned to Father
Vickor.

“If it happened to one,” the priest
stated, “it could have happened to all. That would explain the
emptiness of the town.”

James nodded.

The sound of approaching horses
heralded the return of Scar and the others. A fourth horseman
accompanied them. As they drew closer, Black Hawk’s emblem could be
seen upon the rider’s left breast. He looked too young to be one of
Illan’s original Raiders, probably one of the newer
recruits.

James pulled his hood close about him
to shield his identity; Jiron did likewise.

Miko ignored the riders and stepped
toward the woman. He laid a hand along the side of her jaw raising
her face. Lifeless orbs such as one would find on a cadaver, stared
into his. He searched for any indication his earlier diagnosis
could be in error. Sighing in sadness, he let go of her chin and
turned to the riders.

“Reverend Father,” the rider said as
he came to a stop before Miko.

Miko recognized him from a visit he
paid Black Hawk a year ago.

The rider glanced to the woman. “I see
you have found another.”

“Another?”

He nodded. “We’ve found them wandering
throughout the hills.”

“I feared as much.”

“I’m sure Lord Black Hawk will want to
confer with you about this.”

“Yes, I would like to speak with
him.”

Taking the horn hanging across his
breast, the rider blew two quick notes. Before the second tone
faded to silence, two Raiders appeared at a quick trot.

“They will see to the woman, Reverend
Father. If you will accompany me, I shall take you to Lord Black
Hawk.”

Miko glanced to James who nodded.
Returning his attention to the Raider, he said, “Give me but a
moment.”

“As you wish, Reverend
Father.”

The two Raiders came and one
dismounted. He very gently lifted the woman onto his horse then
swung up behind her and the three of them headed toward where the
trail moved deeper into the hills.

“You do realize there is no way we can
maintain our anonymity once we reach Illan’s encampment?” Turning
toward his friend, James saw Jiron indicate Jira with a nod of her
head. “Too many know her.”

“I knew it couldn’t last forever.
Hopefully we have already bought sufficient time for us to reach
our families before the enemy discovers our return and moves on
them.”

“We don’t even know who this enemy
is.”

“I know. But we will.”

Illan’s encampment lay three miles
deeper within the hills at a small collection of ramshackled
buildings known only as Red’s Place. A wagon trail departed Red’s
Place toward a mine entrance less than a mile through the hills to
the east.

Before his men’s tents came into view,
other Raiders were seen coming and going. As often as not, those
making their way to the encampment had vacant-eyed villagers in
tow.

One Raider, a grizzled veteran who had
been with Illan during the War of Barrowman’s Field, wept
unashamedly as he rode with a small girl seated before him. Her
eyes were similarly vacant.

A stockade of sorts had been erected
off to one side near the edge of Red’s Place; scores of people were
held within. Some wandered from one place to another, though the
majority simply stood motionless.

“You keep them locked up?” asked
Scar.

The Raider nodded. “If we don’t, they
wander off and get hurt.” He glanced to Miko. “I hope you can help
them, Reverend Father.”

“I shall do what I can.”

As they went around the wooden
stockade, James glanced at the people within. Lifeless eyes gazed
outward; mouths partially opened with drool-streaked dirty chins
and necks; he seriously doubted if Miko would be able to help.
Riding next to him, he could hear Jiron whisper words of comfort to
his daughter. When they left the stockade behind, James was
relieved.

The Raider led them to the largest
building. It was situated between two smaller, single-room
dwellings.

“Lord Black Hawk has set up his
headquarters in the miner’s mess.” Coming to a stop, he dismounted.
The others followed suit.

As they made for the door, it opened
and out stepped a familiar face.

“Well, well, well; are we glad to see
you.”

Tall and brown-haired, Uther gave them
a grin.

Miko stepped forward and shook his
hand. “Heard Illan was out this way.” He glanced to the stockade.
“Didn’t realize things were this bad.”

“Bad? Man, you don’t know the half of
it.”

Grinning at the use of the familiar
rather than “Reverend Father,” Miko asked, “Is Illan
here?”

Uther nodded. Stepping to the side, he
held the door open for Miko and the others to enter.

Inside, they found the one known
throughout the land as Lord Black Hawk seated at a table, deep in
discussion with three of his senior Raiders. He broke off in
mid-sentence upon noticing their approach. His eyes flicked first
to Miko, then to those in attendance with the High Priest,
lingering slightly longer on the two hooded individuals. Upon
spying Jira his eyes widened in surprise then returned to the
hooded man walking next to her. A barely perceptible nod followed.
As he came to his feet, his gaze settled upon James.

“Your timing couldn’t be
better.”

Miko stepped forward so as to
interpose himself between James and Illan. “We are led where we are
most needed,” the High Priest of Morcyth said, as if Illan’s remark
had been directed at him.

Illan took a moment as he grasped the
dynamics of the situation. When he did, he turned to his men and
said, “Gentlemen, you’re excused.”

The oldest of the three Raiders was
one their guests knew well. Nerun, a grizzled old-timer that had
been with Illan since before Barrowman’s Field and had been with
them five years earlier when James took the battle to the Empire,
bore a thoughtful look. His gaze, too, went from Jira whom he knew
well to the hooded men. What his thought may have been he kept to
himself. He merely gave Illan a nod then led the other two Raiders
from the room.

Illan turned to the Raider that had
brought the newcomers. “Holbeck, see that we are not
disturbed.”

Snapping to attention, Raider Holbeck
saluted, turned, and left. Once the door closed, he took position
just outside.

To James, Illan said, “You are the
last person I thought to see in this godforsaken place.”

“Thought I was dead?” Pulling back his
hood, he came forward and shook Illan’s hand.

“Not for one second. I’d have to see
your lifeless corpse before I would ever believe you had been
overcome. The things you did…”

“Uncle Illan!”

Jira disengaged from her father and
raced forward. He clasped his arms around her, lifted her from the
ground, and gave her a big hug. “How have you been, little
one?”

“We’re on our way to see Mother,” she
replied in excited little-girl fashion. “You’ll never believe where
we’ve…”

“Jira,” Jiron said with a commanding
tone. When his daughter glanced over her shoulder, he fixed her
with a disapproving glare and shook his head. “Not now.”

Illan gave her a smile, then set her
back on the floor.

James nodded out the window toward the
stockade. “What happened to them?”

“Word came that there had been
disappearances in this area. I came to investigate. They were like
this when we arrived.”

“Is everyone so afflicted?”

Illan turned toward Miko and nodded.
“As near as we can figure. Not one of Tinker’s inhabitants has been
found otherwise.”