Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (41 page)

“So let me get this straight. He first
used magic to save everyone’s life. Then, at your request, he used
magic again to rescue Miko and myself.”

Several nods affirmed his
statements.

“Then, to save the life of his
friend,” he glanced to Jiron, “he used wind to blow you aside.
After that, he made that thing.”

“That is all true,” Miko
said.

“It seems to me that had he intended
to hurt anyone, he would have used something more devastating than
a gust of wind. I’m sure he knows far more lethal magic than
that.”

He extended his hand and Jiron helped
him to his feet.

“Let’s see if we can get them out of
there.”

“What of the other mage?”

Using Jiron’s shoulder to steady
himself, he turned his attention to the earthen mound and sighed.
“For Azhan’s sake, he better have been worth it.”

After first making sure his aching
head would not interfere with the calling of magic by summoning an
orb, he closed his eyes and sent his senses into the
mound.

He was immediately met by resistance.
Upping his endeavors, he blasted through Azhan’s defenses and knew
he had sent the young mage staggering backward.

“Both are alive.”

Alive, but scared to
death.
The fear inside was so thick, he
probably could have cut it with a knife.

Looking to Jiron, he said, “Get
everyone back a ways.”

As the others moved to a safer
distance, James once again gathered magic to him and in a powerful
push, dislodged the top half of the mound and sent it sliding down
the other side. Several smaller ones later and the two young mages
were revealed.

They knelt toward him with heads bowed
low so their foreheads touched the ground. A dusting of dirt
covered them. Azhan’s friend trembled nearly
uncontrollably.

He let the dread linger in the air a
few moments before stepping forward. The crunching of dirt beneath
his boots caused Azhan’s head to rise ever so slightly and his eyes
peered up at his master.

“Rise, Azhan.”

The young mage lowered his eyes as he
climbed to his feet.

Putting as much menace and promise of
doom and horrific retribution as he could into his voice, he said,
“You have disobeyed me.”

Azhan paled. For a moment, James
thought the boy would pass out.

“Not only did you use magic, but you
attacked one of my men.”

With visions of Glerhan dancing
through his mind, and a case of the shakes threatening to loosen
his bowels, he said, “F…forgive me, M…master.”

“Why?”

Head raising slightly, Azhan’s gaze
rose to meet that of his master. “Why?”

“Yes,
why
?
Why would you
do such a thing if you knew death would follow? You knew that magic
was forbidden you.”

Azhan glanced from his master to those
standing behind him, then back to James. “I hoped I would be
forgiven since it was with magic that I saved the lives of all who
traveled with you. And…”

“And what?”

He glanced to where his friend still
trembled with forehead against the ground. “Hikai is a good mage
and would be a great benefit to you, Master.”

James heard a chuckle from behind but
dared not glance back to see who it was. It might have been
Miko.

“I see.”

“He will be as faithful as I,
Master.”

Warring thoughts fought for supremacy.
He either had to kill the young mage, or take him as he had Azhan.
Neither prospect set very well with him. But killing someone just
because not doing so would be inconvenient had never been something
he could do.

“Have him rise and face
me.”

Hikai trembled as he raised his head
and gazed upon the features of the one who had taken down the
Empire. As he rose, the knocking of his knees nearly dropped him to
the ground. Somehow he managed to make it to an upright
position.

James gazed into the
terror-filled eyes for just a moment before turning and motioning
Miko to come forward. Once the High Priest stood by his side, he
did as he had with Azhan. Summoning magic he began,
“I am the Dark Mage…”

Not waiting for Hikai to regain
consciousness after being inducted into the service of the Dark
Mage, they tossed him across the saddle of one of their newly
acquired horses.

With the two that survived the blast,
and eighteen taken from the patrol, they now had sufficient mounts
for all with seven left for baggage. James was annoyed that the
Geiger Counter had been wrecked. At least the radiation suits had
survived. Without them, getting the Star would be nearly impossible
for a very long time. He gazed at where Azhan stood next to the
horse bearing the unconscious Hikai.

“Now you have two.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw
Miko approach.

“Yes, but what do I do with
them?”

“Do? What does any master do with
those in his charge? Take care of them.” He paused a moment before
adding, “Teach them.”

“Teach?”

“Azhan has a fire in his belly to be a
Master. Who better to learn from than the Dark Mage?”

James hadn’t allowed his thoughts to
travel so far. “So, they are, my apprentices?”

“I am certain that is how Azhan thinks
of himself. Hikai, I think is just glad to be alive. The reality of
his situation has yet to fully sink in.”

“But, I don’t want apprentices. I’ve
never wanted that.”

Miko shrugged. “You have them now.
Just traveling with you will teach them more than they could ever
hope to learn as they were.” Noticing how James grew ever more
troubled, he added, “You could always kill them.”

“No. I could never do
that.”

“And turning them loose is not an
option?”

James shook his head.

“So, you have two
apprentices.”

“Great.”

As if he knew he was the topic under
discussion, Azhan turned just then and looked their way.

“Man, what have I gotten myself into?”
He met Azhan’s gaze for a moment then turned to Miko. “Can I trust
them?”

“For the moment, yes. What tomorrow
will bring I do not pretend to know. But right now, yes, I believe
they can be trusted.”

Visions filled with pails of water and
an army of brooms settled upon him. Sighing, he turned and took his
horse’s reins, swung up into the saddle, and said, “Let’s
go.”

As the others mounted, he headed for
the river. Jira bounced along on a brown mare and flashed him a
smile as she came abreast. “What now, Uncle?”

“Now, Jira, we make all speed for our
families.”

Squealing with delight, she dropped
back and repeated that to her father. Jiron nodded and caught up
with James as he came to a halt near the river’s edge.

“Nearest bridge is over a day
away.”

James glanced to him. “We cross
here.”

Without giving Jiron a chance to
reply, he summoned the magic and a shimmering field spread outward
from the bank. It quickly spanned the distance.

“What about not alerting
mages?”

“Too late for that now. We need to put
as much distance between Tapu and us as fast as we can.”

Behind them, excited exclamations
arose from his new apprentices.

“You think that’s something,” Potbelly
began. “You should have been there the time he brought down the
walls of Korazan.”

“Korazan,” Scar scoffed. “That was
nothing. How about the time he raised a storm and stripped the
flesh from an entire army?”

With a constant stream of his exploits
following, James nudged his horse out onto the shimmering field.
The horse was skittish with the rush of the water just below. In
places where the water ran roughest, white crests crashed against
the underside. Not only were the horses unnerved, but so too were
most of the humans riding them. It wasn’t an easy feat to ride
nonchalantly across water that should the field fail, meant their
deaths.

Once on the far side, James waited
until the last rider cleared the bank before banishing the
shimmering, magical bridge. Azhan and Hikai looked at him in new
wonder. Whispered exchanges passed between them in rapid
succession.

Miko’s amusement at his discomfort
irritated James. The last thing he needed right now were two young
mages hanging around. Some of the things he could do were best left
unknown to the world at large.

“Scar, take the lead with
Potbelly.”

As the duo moved forward, James turned
to Miko. “Have your priests watch my two, uh,
apprentices.”

“As you wish.”

James turned his horse as
Scar led them from the riverbank and headed toward the road running
alongside. Once before they had followed this road in their search
of Miko when he had been taken as a slave. The world had changed
much since then. He had changed much as well. It scared him at
times, the power he could command. Too many times throughout
history men had wielded such power, maybe not magical, but great
power nonetheless and very few had avoided its evil
temptations.
Will he be strong enough to
remain true to his heart and soul?
He hoped
he would.

Far to the east, from atop a ridge
three men gazed down into a desolate valley. Darkness deeper than
the night obscured what lay below. So palpable was the evil rising
from the depths that it made their skin crawl.

Two armed men, each bearing twin long
swords stood to either side of a man dressed in plain
leathers.

“This is the last,” Leathers
said.

“It won’t be easy,” said the man on
his right.

“It is our mandate.”

Leathers steeled himself, for he knew
full well that what waited below was powerful indeed. Within that
darkness they would find the bastion of the High Priest of T’Lea,
as well as the remainder of the god’s priests. He sensed their
presence was known and that the dark god’s source of power on this
world lay somewhere below. The Heart of Darkness, a misshapen mass
of black stone beat with power most evil. Destroy that, and never
again would T’Lea bring misery to this world.

The moon was on the rise and to the
east, the sky slowly brightened with the coming dawn. Turning his
back on the valley, he led the two swordsmen to an area some two
hundred yards away where they waited for the first rays of dawn to
shine over the horizon.

Brighter and brighter grew the sky.
When the first ray struck the face of the man in leather, he said,
“Let us begin.”

From one of five packhorses, the
swordsmen removed four ivory poles inscribed with intricate
patterns of symbols. Each stretched four feet in length. They took
them and drove them into the ground to form the corners of a
square, six feet by six.

Leathers motioned them back and moved
to the far side of the square so it sat between him and the valley.
He then produced a pair of ivory wands, each identical to the
larger quartet in the ground, though only a foot in length. Holding
them upright, he summoned the power of his god.

“Gyomias, Lord of this
world, lend us, your servants, power to purge the evil that lies
before us.”
Light erupted from the
wands.

A broiling of the darkness within the
valley drew the swordsmen’ attention. Drawing their long swords,
they interposed themselves between the evil and the man in
leathers.

Power, both good and wonderful filled
the man in leathers. The wands shone ever brighter as more and more
power filled them.

A dark shape emerged from the dark
depths of the valley. Man-shaped yet horribly disfigured, it left a
trail of faint, dark mist in its passing. Sores covered its body
and the eyes were darker than obsidian. Though it loped as if
maimed or in great pain, it covered distance rapidly. Another
emerged after it, then another.

One swordsman glanced to the other,
“Aega’s.”

Never taking his eyes from the minions
of T’Lea, the other nodded.

Aega’s were created from the darkest
souls that had been delivered into T’Lea’s realm. Only those who
never performed an act of good, who had dedicated their lives to
the basest and most evil atrocities were said to be granted such an
exalted position. These were not beings from this world.

“They must not interfere,” Leathers
announced.

“Fear not, my lord.”

Power suffusing the wands flowed to
the nearest ivory pole. When it hit, light flared and then
continued on to the others until the area within was ringed by a
nimbus of bright light. Magic passing to the poles increased in
ever greater amounts until they outshone the rising sun.