Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (26 page)

Like a wave coursing across a still
pond, the crest of disruption expanded outward. Those at the
barricade had but moments to ponder the source of the roar before
being tossed in the air as the ground rose and fell beneath them.
The barricade fared little better, collapsing in several
places.

Kip was instantly at Miko’s side,
offering an arm in helping him rise.

“Thank you, Kip.”

James returned to his feet and
surveyed the scene. A few Raiders suffered minor injury, but the
majority escaped unscathed.

“Do something interesting
again?”

Turning, he found Jiron standing
behind him.

“You might say that.”

“Lord Black Hawk!”

A Raider stood at one of the newly
formed gaps in the barricade. He pointed toward the mine entrance.
“It’s coming out!”

“Get everyone back,” James exclaimed,
then to Miko, “Let’s go.”

Now that he knew how to break the
connection forged by the creature’s magic, it was simple enough to
alter his shield to prevent the connection from penetrating. As
soon as he and Miko emerged from the barricade, his shield was
inundated with a barrage of magic.

Morcyth’s glow surrounding Miko
brightened as the power of his god kept its high priest
safe.

From behind, Illan’s voice thundered,
“Fire it!”

James had little time to worry about
the points of ignition that flared to life throughout the
barricade. The creature stood at the mine entrance, its black eyes
fixed upon him. The barrage of magic striking his shield
intensified.

“It’s pretty powerful.”

Miko drew his sword. The blade glowed
with power. “Keep it busy.” Darting to the side, he raced along the
inner edge of the ignited barricade.

“Sure, no problem,” James replied as a
surge of magic preceded a shifting of the ground. Losing his
balance, he stumbled to the side and fell to one knee. Before he
could right himself, the creature leapt.

Faster than any living creature had a
right to move, it crossed the intervening space only to stop mere
inches from the edge of James’ shield. It struck with both claws
and James felt power being drained.

Lashing out with a blast of his own,
he sent the beast reeling backward. Magic danced to his tune as
stones shot from off the ground and sped to the attack. But just as
the arrows and slingers’ bullets that had sought to bring the
creature down before, the stones never reached it. It was as if
they were met by an impenetrable cushion of air whose density
increased with proximity to the creature.

By this time, Miko had managed to
outflank it and was even now coming up from behind.

Again magic struck the outside of his
shield; and when the creature leapt, he braced for the shifting of
the ground. Instead of falling, he kept his balance and hit the
beast square in the chest with another blast.

As the blow lifted it from its feet,
he felt wild, magical emanations explode from the creature. Raw and
undisciplined, the magic lacked focus. Though powerful, they failed
to wreak any serious harm. The barricade exploded outward in one
spot; James was knocked backward a step; and six separate furrows,
each a foot in depth, marred the ground.

Roaring, its eyes vowed death as it
leapt one more time for attack.

James saw Miko come up behind the
creature. Lashing out with a final blast of magic, he again knocked
it backward off its feet.

Miko’s blade struck. A blinding flash
of light flared as the sword cut into the beast’s side.

A massive explosion of magic knocked
James backward and blasted away a fifteen foot section of the
barricade. When his eyes again were able to focus, he found the
beast dead at Miko’s feet. His blade had severed its torso in
half.

“Wish you could have done that when I
first met you.”

Miko nodded. “Things would certainly
have turned out different.”

From the other side of the barricade,
Jira’s voice cried, “Is it dead?”

James glanced to Miko who nodded.
“Yes. It’s safe now.”

“Father Vickor, Father Keller, attend
me please.” Spying a young face peering through a gap in the
burning barricade, he added, “You too, Kip.”

Morcyth’s High Priest turned and
hurried toward the mine entrance and the man lying unconscious
within; his priests and novice followed.

In the peace of death, the beast took
on more of a human quality. James knelt next to it and examined its
face. The shape of the face, eyes, and nose all said human. If not
for the animal characteristics…

Footsteps behind him preceded Illan’s
query, “Is it the mage?”

“Unless Miko disagrees, I would have
to say it is, or was.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Probably
someone who tried one spell too many and fell prey to
it.”

Returning to the dead mage before him,
he indicated the eyes and face. “He has the look of one from the
Empire, don’t you think?”

Illan nodded. “Hard to tell, but if I
had to guess, I’d say you were correct.”

James sighed and came to his feet. “I
was afraid something like this might happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, five years ago they lost the
School of the Arcane and most of their experienced mages. Those who
are now in the early stages of magical training no longer have the
benefit of all that accumulated wisdom. Mistakes are bound to
occur.”

“Why don’t we see this sort of thing
in Madoc?”

James shrugged. “I don’t know. It
might be because Madoc doesn’t foster the belief that most people
can be a mage. A core belief like that would block most anyone’s
attempt to control magic. Since they believe they cannot; they
cannot.”

Illan pondered that for a moment, then
turned toward the mine as Miko and his priests emerged. Father
Vickor had a body slung across one shoulder; Father Keller had
another. The one Father Vickor carried wore the uniform of a Black
Hawk Raider.

“Captain Ranthus, take charge of
Chellick and the other.”

“Yes, sir.” Orders were hollered and
soon, the two priests were transferring their burdens to Illan’s
men.

When Miko joined them, Illan asked,
“Do you think there is anything you can do for them?”

“If I had time,” he replied as he
glanced to James. “But as it is, they would be better served if you
brought them back to Al-Ziron and allowed the priests there to
minister to them.”

Illan’s eyes flicked from Miko, to
James, then back to Miko. “Captain Ranthus!”

Leaving his men to take the beast’s
victims back to the encampment on their own, he returned those
gathered near the creature. “Yes, sir?”

“Send two riders back to the Aerie for
wagons. We’ll be taking our men and the villagers with us.” As the
Captain turned to go, Illan said, “Oh, and Captain?”

“Yes?”

He nodded to the creature. “Burn
it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Back at the encampment, they gathered
in the miner’s mess where Illan had his headquarters. Riders were
even then on their way to Al-Ziron for the wagons to transport
those afflicted by the creature. It was everyone’s hope that the
priests there would be able to restore their minds. Miko wasn’t
optimistic about the outcome but kept such counsel to
himself.

Illan sat at the table’s head with
James on his right and Miko and Jiron on his left. A meal prepared
from the miner’s stores sat before them. With them at the table
were the grizzled old Raider captain, Nerun, and the slightly
younger captain, Ranthus. The rest of James’ company sat at
neighboring tables.

James had been circumspect in
revealing their future plans while others had been within earshot.
But now that the servers had been dismissed and the only ones in
attendance other than those traveling with him were the two
captains and Illan, he felt comfortable in divulging at least part
of the story. His sojourn back to Earth he didn’t
mention.

“So you do not know who it was that
assaulted your island?” Nerun had been riveted on his every word
throughout the telling.

“No, though since the men wore the
uniforms of the Empire, we think they may have had some hand in
it.”

Illan shook his head. “There has been
no word of any plans to exact vengeance for the destruction dealt
to the Empire. Most of the Warlords can barely hold onto what they
have let alone mount a campaign of such magnitude.”

“I agree,” Captain Ranthus said. “They
are far too busy killing each other.”

“Do you think it a ruse?” Jiron
asked.

“Most definitely.” Captain Nerun
stabbed a small tuber with his knife, ate it, then accentuated his
next statement by pointing the knife at Jiron. “Everyone knows that
the Empire holds no love for the Dark Mage. In fact, there’s a
bounty on his head offered by no less than two factions. Anyone who
wanted to eliminate him wouldn’t want to run the risk of failing
then facing his retribution. Having him run amuck in the Empire,
instead of going after those truly responsible, would definitely be
in their best interests.”

“But who are
they
?”

James’ anger was palpable and the
intensity of it took more than one at the table by surprise. “They
come to my home, destroy much of what I had worked hard to create,
put my family at risk, and…”

“I think you are asking the wrong
question.”

Mouth still open as if to continue his
tirade, James turned toward Tinok who sat at a table to his right
with Scar, Potbelly, and the other former pit fighters.

“The question isn’t who
are
they
, but who
is
he
. From the
tales told by Jiron and yourself detailing the attack, it seems the
one you should be focusing on is the mage. Was he not leading the
attack?”

“A mage of that power had to have come
from somewhere,” Scar added, drawing James’ attention. Next to
Scar, Potbelly nodded.

“Not from the Empire,” Illan stated.
“Our spies tell us that very few remained after the war, and none
of any great power. Had there been one with the power of he who
attacked your island, we would have heard.”

“That’s the truth,” agreed Nerun. “If
one of the Warlords had a mage of that power backing him, the rest
would have been defeated long ago.”

James turned inward as he thought of
the mage.

…in his mid forties as his
hair was beginning to turn gray, the man was definitely from the
Empire. His skin color, the build of his face, everything spoke
that he was of Empire stock.

The mage wasn’t attired in
a robe as had others James had dealt with in the past. Instead, the
man wore common clothes, the kind you would find on the
run-of-the-mill Empire citizen. Yet standing before him was one who
could by no means be called run-of-the-mill.

Part of the ruse; if ruse
it be?
Then…

…
a yellow glow emanated
from the mage’s left hand. Something clutched therein… flared
yellow. A visible beam shot forth… pulsating…

So focused on how the mage and
men-at-arms had appeared to have been from the Empire that until
now, the fact the mage had utilized a talisman of some sort had
somehow eluded him. The mage had held something emitting a
yellowish hue that held unimaginable power; power the likes not
encountered since he wielded the Star.

He cupped his left hand and held it
up. “He carried something.”

“What?”

Turning to Miko, James slowly shook
his head. “I don’t know. Whatever it was, the mage drew his power
from it.”

“A magic artifact?” Scar
asked.

James considered it and then shrugged.
“Anything is possible. Has anyone heard of a powerful object with a
yellowish glow?”

Silence filled the room for several
moments as eyes glanced from one to another. Finally, a small voice
said, “I have.”

Turning toward Jiron’s daughter, he
arched an eyebrow.

Jira nodded as she stood and strode
confidently forward. “Little Tail’s Acorn.”

Grins spread across faces throughout
the room and several chuckles could be heard.

Jiron came to his feet. “Jira, that is
just a fable.”

Turning toward her father, her
confidence waned. “But Father, Uncle asked if anyone had heard of a
‘powerful object with a yellowish glow’.”

James could see that he was the only
one who failed to glean meaning from her words. “What is this
Little Tail’s Acorn?”

“It’s a childish tale bards sing for
children,” Jiron explained. “It was a favorite of Aleya’s when she
was young, and she’s told it to Jira many times.”