Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two

by Brian S. Pratt

  Scar held still for a moment as he tried to figure out just what happened to him.

  “Priceless,” laughed Potbelly.

  James grinned and came forward. “Don’t worry, Scar. It didn’t do anything. Just gave you a kiss.”

  “A kiss?”

  Touching his face, he searched for signs of damage but failed to find any.

  “Well, a raspberry then.” Glancing to the others, he said, “It was a little game Kenny and I played when he was learning to walk. The bubble would float in the air while he made his way toward it. When he reached it, it would give him a kiss and he’d squeal in delight.”

  Reaching out, he tapped the metal of Scar’s medallion. “You got taken, my friend.”

  Stuffing the medallion back in his shirt, Scar mumbled, “Might still work.”

  “No, it won’t.” To Illan he said, “Let’s go to the mine.”

  A barricade of sorts had been erected along a hundred foot radius with the mine entrance at the center. Constructed of logs, stones, and the larger variety of furniture such as dressers and chairs, it formed a wall six feet high and three feet thick. The only way to pass was through a narrow, two-foot wide gap bordered by quilts soaked in lamp oil. Back a ways from the treated quilts burned a fire; a brace of torches was stacked next to it.

  “It hates fire,” Illan explained when James caught wind of it and eyed him questionably. “We have the entire barricade prepared to ignite should the creature try to leave the mine.”

  “Is that how you drove it into the mine?” Jiron asked. “With fire?”

  Illan nodded. “My men almost burnt the forest down, but we got it in there.”

  Two Raiders stood guard at the entrance and snapped to attention upon seeing their leader approach. Both were young and obviously fairly new to the uniforms they wore. An older Raider emerged from around the right side of the barricade.

  “My Lord,” the Raider greeted.

  “Captain Ranthus,” Illan acknowledge then glanced toward the mine. “Is it still in there?”

  “Yes, sir. It went farther in an hour ago and has yet to reappear.”

  “Might be looking for another way out.”

  “That’s what we were thinking. I wish we had a miner to tell us if there is another exit. I’ve had the men searching but have yet to find one.”

  His eyes flicked to those arriving with Illan. There was no denying the fact that he recognized Miko. A smile grew upon his face and he made to step forward to greet the high priest but his greeting remained stillborn when he spied James. Coming to a startled stop, the color drained from his face and he took a step backward.

  In a quiet aside to James, Jiron quipped, “Guess he didn’t expect the Dark Mage to make an appearance.” There was a touch of amusement in his voice.

  James ignored them both and made his way to the entrance. Pausing before entering the gap, he looked across a charred expanse toward the mine entrance. The shadows within were thick and concealed their secrets well.

  Trees were scorched and ash covered nearly every square inch of ground between the barricade and the mine. Even outside the barricade the foliage showed evidence of their attempt to contain the creature.

  Shorty shook his head. “You weren’t joking about almost burning the forest down.”

  Tinok came to stand next to James. His hand rested on a knife hilt. There was an eagerness in his eye, one that James feared might drive him into doing something rash.

  “Stay here with the others. If it gets past us, do what you can.”

  Never looking away from the dark maw of the mine, Tinok nodded.

  James could feel the prickling of his skin that always accompanied the nearness of active magic. Glancing to Miko he asked, “Are you ready?”

  The light of Morcyth sprang to life around him. “Yes.”

  Sending out his senses, James searched for the creature. He found it less than a hundred yards from the entrance. It was not alone.

  “Something’s in there with it.”

  “A miner?” Illan asked.

  Concentrating on the other presence, James nodded. “I think so. The only magic is coming from the creature; tendrils connect them.”

  Miko closed his eyes. “Feels like the creature is feeding off of him.”

  “Him?”

  The High Priest nodded. “It is a man, in his thirties. His mind is gone.”

  “Might be Chellick,” Captain Ranthus suggested. “He’s unaccounted for.”

  “Whoever it is,” Miko replied, “he’s growing weaker.”

  James concentrated on the tendrils drawing the life from the man. “We can’t leave him in there with it.” He had thought to simply bring down the mine entrance, but now that Chellick was at the creature’s mercy, plans had to be altered.

  “I agree.”

  The tendrils drew a constant flow of energy from the man. If he could break the connection… Drawing on the knowledge developed while crafting spells for his crystals, he formed a barrier and severed the link.

  In his mind’s eye, he could see the tendrils snap back to the creature. A god-awful roar followed and the prickling of his skin increased tenfold as a burst of magic flared from the creature. The released energy had no direction, no intelligence behind it. Slamming into the walls of the tunnel, it caused the ground to lurch.

  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 ou
tside 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.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  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? The
n…

  … 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.”

  “Oh, yes,” Jira exclaimed excitedly. “It’s a wonderful tale of this young squirrel named Little Tail that grows up with two evil brothers, Dramon and Tom Lee. They treated Little Tail most horribly.”