“A little bit of both I am afraid.” He then explained the latest news from Illan, and the sense of forebodings that have come over him of late.
Listening, James couldn’t help but feel a shudder upon hearing of the massacred village. Strange things indeed were afoot. “Dmon-Li stirring up trouble again?”
“Illan is not sure and I have yet to hear anything in that regard.”
“What has Perrilin to say about it?” Being a bard who was also an agent of the Cardri royal house, Perrilin was often sent into the Empire to ferret information.
“He has not been heard from for two years. He used to stop off at the Hawk’s Nest when passing through, but Illan says he has not been there for some time.”
Such information wasn’t necessarily bad, in and of itself. Perrilin has been known to disappear from time to time during periods of undercover work deep within the Empire. He thought about the significance of his disappearance coinciding with the attack on his island and the destruction of the village. It could be a coincidence. He hoped that it would be.
A period of quiet settled over the pair while James digested the news.
Miko watched as his friend slowly closed his eyes and slipped away into slumber. “Sleep, my friend. I shall see what can be discovered.”
He remained in his chair until Kip and Father Keller returned with a trio of broth-filled bowls and a single loaf of bread, suitable fare for those recuperating. “Kip, attend to their needs.”
His young Novice nodded.
“Father Keller, we have work to do.”
The Father fell in behind Miko as he left the room. He remained silent until the door had closed and they moved down the hallway toward the Inner Sanctum. “Things are bad, aren’t they?”
Miko glanced to the man beside him and nodded gravely. “They very well could be,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “His island was attacked and very nearly lost his life.”
Father Keller gasped. “Who could have done such a thing?”
“That is the problem. We do not know. To be honest, I did not think anyone could stand toe-to-toe with him and prevail.” Taking a left at a smaller, branching corridor, he hurried forward. “His wife and child are missing, as is Aleya.” Aleya being Jiron’s wife who had been in attendance on the island at the time of the attack.
Coming to the entrance of the Inner Sanctum, Miko paused before a blank wall. Intoning arcane, priestly words and passing his hand across the wall’s surface, he made an opening appear. Once they were through to the other side, the opening automatically sealed itself.
This had been where he and his priests had drawn James, Jiron and Jira from the ether on that fateful night. To his right, a narrow archway led to a small room wherein sat a mirrored table remarkably similar to what James had back on the island. Perhaps the most important lesson Miko had learned during his travels with James, had been the need for good intelligence. Between this table, and his itinerant priests going out to spread the word and searching for likely candidates, he had a pretty good idea of the happenings in the world.
Standing opposite Father Keller, Miko called forth the power of Morcyth and the flat surface answered his call. No longer a glassy, reflective field, it fluxed as he sought Meliana. Figuring her to be the one he could most readily find, he sent his senses southward. If James was correct in his assumption, then her father would have collected them and returned with them to his home in Corillian, a major port city on an island south of the Empire.
He would never tell James, but since he drew his magic from Morcyth, he had an easier time at this. James often complained that the farther away the target was, the more magic had to be expended. Miko on the other hand, felt no such additional draw. He put it down as one of the many benefits given him for his life of dedication.
Shortly, he felt something familiar as the magic narrowed its focus, the familiarity being the presence of Meliana and Kenny. They sat in an atrium upon a stone bench. She wore black as befitted a widow, Kenny had on dark browns.
“They’re alive,” commented Father Keller.
Miko nodded. “That will make James happy.” With a mental directive, the image changed to that of a kitchen where half a dozen women busily worked at various cooking functions. The image settled upon one woman wielding a knife as she shed tubers of their skins. She too dressed in black. Aleya.
Returning the image to Meliana one last time, he watched her for several moments before giving the magic another directive. This one was easy. In a flash, the image of James’ island appeared; a familiar view he indulged in from time to time.
Settling over the manor house, it revealed the structure intact with no sign the enemy mage had attempted to breach its defenses. “Strange.”
Father Keller flicked a glance toward his superior. “How so?”
“Why would the mage not make an attempt to capture or slay James’ family?” He looked up from the image.
“Perhaps he was only interested in destroying The Dark Mage.”
Miko remained silent.
Shifting once again, the image now showed the devastation surrounding where James’ workshop had once stood. Only one, seriously charred wall remained. The entire area was black, a huge swath of trees that once ringed it were but shattered remains of their former glory.
“A duel of such power. It is surprising he survived.” Of the teleportation pad that his friend had been working on there was no sign.
The image began scrolling along the path of destruction that went from the workshop area to the dock.
“What do you think he will do?”
Miko glanced again to Father Keller and shook his head. “I do not know. We shall have to wait until he awakens. In the meantime, see what our contacts on the streets know.”
“As you wish.”
While Father Keller departed to implement Miko’s orders, the image once again returned to Corillian where the mother and son sat in quiet sadness. He was glad they lived, for had they not, The Dark Mage would have turned the world asunder to wreak vengeance. With a thought, the table went blank and he left the Inner Sanctum.
Chapter Two
The feeling of being watched drew him from the nether reaches of slumber. Cracking open an eye, he was met by a pair of baby blues.
“Uncle! Mama lives!”
Engulfed by a pair of arms that elicited no small amount of pain in their exuberance, her words brought him fully awake. “She lives?” Glancing about the room, he caught sight of Kip and Miko sitting not far away playing a game of Bones and Daggers, a more ruthless form of chess popular among those of the streets.
Miko grinned and came to his feet. “And so are Meliana and Kenny. You were correct in your supposition that Kendrick would ferry them back to his home.”
Disengaging from Jira’s embrace, James sat up on the edge of the cot despite the discomfort such activity caused.
Kip was immediately at his side and offered a hand to help him to his feet.
“Show me.”
“Are you sure you feel up to it?” The look Miko received said volumes. “Very well.”
“Besides, if I collapse, you can always heal me, right?”
Miko chuckled and shook his head. “Not necessarily. The power of Morcyth must not be used lightly. Aches and pains are beneficial in their own way.” He cocked his head to the side. “They tell you when you are supposed to take it easy and allow your body to heal.”
James waved the comment aside. “First, show me my wife and son, then I’ll rest.”
As they made to leave, Miko relieved his young novice from helping James. “Stay with Jiron, Kip. I can take it from here.”
“Yes, Reverend Father.”
Miko rolled his eyes at the use of the honorific but remained silent. They took it slow in difference to his friend’s condition. Jira, with the resilience of youth, had already regained much of her vigor. Aside from an ache now and then where the bullet had struck, she felt fine and her step was spry.
/> At the room with the mirrored table, Miko had Jira move to support her uncle while he brought the image into being. Meliana and Kenny were no longer in the atrium. Instead, they were abed as the hour was late.
A tear rolled down his face as James gazed upon the blissful countenance of his wife. For so long had he feared the worst; slavery or death. To know they were safe in the protective care of her father had opened the floodgates of emotion.
Jira stood at the table, both hands gripping the edge and looking with keen interest at the sleeping pair. “Show mama, Uncle Miko.”
The image moved slightly and Aleya was found asleep in an adjacent room. Her long hair cascaded about the pillow. Jira reached out and traced her mother’s face.
James laid a hand on Miko’s arm and the image again returned to Meliana. How he longed to be with her; to feel her in his arms.
The image shifted again and his island came into view.
“The manor was not even touched,” Miko explained. Then the image shifted yet again. “Your workshop, though…”
James didn’t need for him to explain further. The devastation revealed within the image was as he remembered.
Just then, Father Keller appeared and glanced to his superior. “We have news.”
Miko nodded. “Let us return and allow our patient a chance to eat and rest.”
As the image disappeared, James took hold of Miko’s arm.
“Thank you.”
Patting him gently on the shoulder, the High Priest of Morcyth gave a nod and grin. “You are welcome.”
Jira grabbed his other arm, and with all her five year old authority, proceeded to lead him back to his cot. “When can we go and see my mother, Uncle?”
James glanced down at her. “Once your father is well enough to travel.”
“Tomorrow?
Chuckling, her uncle shook his head. “He will need more than a day to recover. Perhaps a week.” James glanced to Miko who nodded.
“That might be about right.”
She chewed her lower lip in thought. “I’ll help him to get better and we can leave sooner.”
Laying his hand upon her head, he patted her twice. “I’m sure you will.”
Back in the room, they found Jiron still asleep with Kip sitting next to him, using a cloth to dab away sweat droplets upon his brow.
Concerned, James asked, “Anything the matter?”
Coming to his feet, Kip spun to meet them. “No, sir. Merely trying to bring him what comfort I may.”
Miko nodded with approval. “Very good.
They sent Kip to the far side of the room to his cot with Jira in tow. Since he was their primary caregiver, as well as the fact they didn’t want him strolling through the temple and intermixing with his peers, they had him remain in the room with his patients. He set up the Bones and Dagger game as Jira was anxious to learn how to play. While the two were thus occupied, James laid down while Miko and Father Keller sat nearby.
“Rumors are circulating through the marketplace that something may have happened to The Dark Mage.” Father Keller kept his voice low so as not to allow the two across the room any chance of overhearing.
“Any particulars?” James asked.
“Plenty, but everyone is saying something different. One states that the Empire took you out. Another that your demonic servants turned upon you, and still another that the gods called down hellfire upon you in retribution for some perceived offense.”
James had to grin at the last. “Which one is the most popular?”
Father Keller cast a quick glance to Miko before returning his gaze to James. “Actually, none.”
“None? That seems surprising.”
“Uh, not really.” Miko gave him a crooked grin.
“Why?”
The two priests cast glances between them.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Well, it’s because the events everyone is speculating about happened over a fortnight ago,” explained Miko.
“So?”
“The people find those events hard to believe since you were seen in the City not two nights ago.”
James looked skeptical. “I was?”
Father Keller nodded. “You were in your usual black outfit while visiting your, uh, regular haunt.”
“My regular haunt?”
“The Pits.”
“The Pits? I’ve been nowhere near there. I hate everything…” Realization suddenly dawned. “Scar and Potbelly?”
Miko grinned and nodded. “They have this one fighter that looks sort of like you. Once a week or so, he makes an appearance at the Pits as you. Scar says the nights he’s there they make a killing.”
James was dumbfounded. They hadn’t even asked his permission. “I don’t suppose the guy does magic?”
“Actually, he does.”
“You’re kidding. How did they pull that off?”
“Tricks mostly. Slight of hand, that sort of thing. He is rather convincing.” Miko met James’ gaze unflinchingly, wondering what sort of reaction he would have. “They did not think you would mind, thought it would bolster your notoriety.”
Sighing, James shook his head, then chuckled. “Those two always have an angle going.”
Father Keller looked relieved. “You’re not angry?”
“No. I doubt if it would cause me any problems.” He glanced to Miko. “They don’t know I’m here, do they?”
Shaking his head, Miko replied, “No. Only my priests and I know your whereabouts.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
“I remember very well your scoldings time and again during our exploits on how you did not want anyone to know your business. And, considering the manner and condition in which you arrived, thought discretion to be prudent.”
James laughed. Maybe it was the fact he was on the mend, or perhaps a euphoric rush coming on the heels of knowing his loved ones were safe, but he couldn’t help it.
“You should rest,” Miko said. “Your body still has a ways to go before being fully healed.”
Stifling a yawn, James nodded agreement. “I think you may be right.”
“Kip will remain here and keep Jira occupied.”
James turned his gaze to the pair hunched over the game board. “He seems competent.”
“I have a feeling about him.”
Returning his attention to Miko he asked, “Oh?”
“Nothing like that. It is just that he is smart and very devoted. I figure he will make Acolyte quickly if he maintains focus.”
Once a Novice showed an aptitude and temperament for the priesthood, they were raised to Acolytes. After a period of study, and provided they retain their zeal for the work, they become Brothers.
Brothers were the workforce of the temple. To them fell the chore of training the Novices and Acolytes as well as being sent out as Recruiters. From Brother, one went on to become a Father who would then become a leader of the Faith, as well as one of Miko’s Inner Circle. It was after being raised to Brother status that martial training began, usually with swords or maces.
After Father came Reverend Father, or High Priest. Miko had gradually worked out the tiered system based on temples he had known during his younger years. Though, if the number of Morcyth’s followers continued to swell, he may have to institute a sixth tier either between Brother and Father, or Father and himself. But that decision was years away. He had far too much on his mind to worry about it now.
James nodded. For even in the short time he’d known the lad, Kip had shown intelligence and no small amount of spunk. Trying in vain to stifle another yawn, James laid his head back on the pillow.
“Get some sleep, my friend.”
“Might be a good idea at that.”
Sleep came quickly and lasted long into the next day.
Jiron didn’t regain consciousness for another two days. And when he did, he was as insistent as James had been in seeing his wife when Jira told him the good news. But unlike Jam
es, he had to be practically carried by Kip and Miko. James had offered, but Miko wouldn’t allow it, saying how he was still recovering.
Jiron openly wept upon seeing his lovely Aleya as she sat with Meliana in the atrium with Kenny on the ground before them. Wiping away tears, he sought, and failed, to get his emotions under control.
“Such unexpected expression of emotion is expected,” Miko assured him. “Especially considering how your spirit had departed your body for a short time.”
Eyes wet with tears turned upon him. “Yeah. Thanks for that.”
“I could not very well allow Jira to lose her father now, could I?”
He shook his head. Laying an arm across his daughter’s shoulders, he smiled. “I wish we could let her know that we have returned.”
James caught his eye and gave a little shake of his head. “Not yet.”
Meeting his friend’s gaze, understanding was slow to dawn. But when it did, he nodded. “You don’t want those who attacked your island to know you’re back.”
“Precisely. If that knowledge got out, Aleya, as well as Meliana and Kenny could be in danger. Unable to get to me, they might take them to be used to draw me out. We dare not risk it. Better sadness, than fear and harm.”
Jiron nodded again, then returned his gaze to the image upon the table. A tear filled with gladness and a touch of longing fell upon the surface.
“We best return,” Miko said as the image faded. “You still need days of rest.”
“I’m fine.”
Chuckling, Miko shook his head and with Kip’s help, practically carried him back to his cot. “When you can walk on your own, I will agree that you are fine.”
No sooner had he been laid out than he fell asleep.
James sat on the edge of his cot and gazed at Jiron’s sleeping form. “How long do you suppose it’ll be before he will be up to traveling?”
Sitting in his chair, Miko shrugged. “If it was anyone but Jiron, a month. But he’s strong and favored of the gods, so probably sooner.”
“Favored?”
“I believe so, yes. Did you not tell me how Igor selected and trained him so as to help you?”
Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two Page 2