For the first time, Avelice smiled, but it did not last long. “You care for him.” Again it was not a question. “He is safe with me and I will see that he gets the education he needs. Will that suffice?”
“If I do not kill him it could mean my life,” Sane stated. His tone did not suggest fear, merely fact.
“Then tell the king that he is dead,” she whispered for fear of prying ears, “or tell him that you could not find the boy. That is close enough to the truth.”
Sane looked to Kellen silently seeking guidance. The warrior simply nodded. He knew the sorcerer would make the honorable decision without his encouragement even if Sane did not know it himself.
“Very well, I will leave him in your care.” The sorcerer slumped in his chair as if a great weight had just been taken from him.
Avelice got up from her seat and leaned over Sane. She kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thank you, brother. You are doing the right thing,” she said before she turned and walked out.
Book 2: Master
Chapter 30
“Welcome all!” Priest Mantellus shouted with a wide grin and open arms as if he could embrace the entire congregation that had come to worship Ashura on this holy day. Throngs of people entered the temple on the eve of Sunshillah, the first day of the new spring and the celebration of new life honoring the revered goddess. It was fitting in some small way that Mantellus Firekin found himself taking on the role of a priest in the service of the goddess on this day when new beginnings were celebrated considering how different his life now was compared to just a few years earlier.
“Blessings to you, good sir,” said an old woman as she scurried past the priest. Her back was hunched over from a lifetime of hard work, but otherwise she appeared to be a very healthy and happy person. No doubt from the virtues of living a clean and moral life, thought Mantellus earnestly.
“And to you, dear daughter,” returned Mantellus with a nod. “Please let me help you to your seat,” he added cheerfully taking the old woman's arm gently in his own. Their pace was slow as they found their way to one of the pews near the front of the temple and they talked of simple things like the beautiful trees that have grown over decades to form the walls and how they give the temple such a serene feeling or the wonderful weather they were having recently. It was so sunny and warm, but the heat was not yet overbearing, as it would soon be in the summer months. Mantellus admired the elderly matron for growing old with dignity and absently wondered if when her time came she would die with as much grace as she now possessed. The new priest had seen many men who were supposedly strong and brave that when faced with the absolute certainty of their end cried and pleaded for mercy. It was almost humorous to think that the heartless magician, Mantellus Firekin, ever had any mercy to give.
Not like the priests of Ashura with their odd sense of compassion. They understood what it meant to give of themselves. Three years had passed since Mantellus was dragged into their temple back in Colum. His body was covered in dirt and blood from his ordeal leaving Baj and he was not sure how he made it there. The now priest vaguely remembered people helping him get to the temple, but even after so much time it was all a blur like a half-remembered dream.
The priests healed him. They gave him a place to sleep and food, but Mantellus saw an opportunity to help himself further. He stayed nearby attending their masses and acting the devoted servant to the goddess all in an attempt to get close enough to steal one of their holy magic staffs. However, in time he grew to understand there were many advantages, beyond the protection they offered, to being a priest and gave himself over to the order in body if not in heart. He had to admit that moments like this gave him a new appreciation of the world he lived in. His father taught him as a boy that the world was full of pain and suffering and so when he became a magician being hated and feared felt like a natural progression to his life. It was like he had moved to the top of the food chain and everyone else was just there to feed his desires and satisfy his curiosities. Such an existence had its fun moments to be sure, but being admired was a new and surprisingly welcome experience.
“Will you be delivering the sermon?” asked the old matron breaking Mantellus’ train of thought.
“No, dear lady, I will not. That honor falls to our leader, High Priest August Rankin,” and with a bow he went about his business greeting the rest of the exuberant citizenry.
After a time the crowd in the back of the temple parted from the doorway, moving to either side as the sounds of horns blew, signaling that the royal family had come to partake in the celebration. The royal guard escorted them as they took their seats in a place of honor on the dais. King Kale and his wife, Wendi, both wore red silk to commemorate the holiday. The king was dressed in a finely made shirt of the highest quality and tailored brown pants that offset his simple solid gold crown and the queen wore a flowing gown with gold embroidery. Their son, Prince Janus was dressed similarly to his father except his shirt was a dark purple and his crown was not nearly as large.
A part of the killer-turned-priest wanted to destroy these people regardless of the personal consequences. It would be so easy to point his staff at them and send a wall of fire across the room incinerating them, along with a good portion of the congregation, in an instant. Their burned bodies would be a testament to the power of magicians and Mantellus would go down in history as the man who ended the royal line in one mighty stroke, but unlike Xander Necros, he had no desire for political power. He cared nothing for ruling or for the fate of magicians beyond his own freedom. Life was so much more interesting when there was a bit of anonymity and danger involved.
Once the new spring sermon began and the high priest began pontificating at the alter Mantellus slipped out a side entrance to get some air. He heard the Sunshillah sermon before and it held little interest for a man far more interested in endings than beginnings. The priest looked around making sure that no one was paying him any notice before he left the temple grounds and began strolling in a way that appeared to be almost aimlessly through the city.
Mollifas was the capital of Aurelia and was by far the largest city on the continent. After an hour of walking, the priest was well into the warehouse district before his steps began to quicken. The crowds were much smaller in this area and Mantellus had to force his own excitement down as he thought about what was to come soon.
It was another half hour before the priest stopped to look around and make sure that he was not followed. Seeing no one, he walked a few more streets until he was in front of an abandoned storage building. He entered hurriedly, but again, not so fast as to attract any unwarranted attention from any passerby that the priest may have missed.
The interior of the building was empty or at least it appeared to be to the naked eye. Mantellus pulled his priest's staff free of its harness as he approached the rear wall. He pointed it at the wall and said, “Release,” causing the wall to shimmer and reveal a door and three closed windows that led to an office.
The priest entered and said, “Good evening, sweetheart,” to the young woman lying tied to the dirty bed pushed up against one of the interior walls. His captive was no more than fifteen or sixteen years and her dress showed she came from a family of means. Her hair was golden brown and her eyes were a shade of light green that Mantellus found intriguing. It was her eyes that brought her to his attention. Those green eyes were unique and seemed to draw the priest in. They made Mantellus want to know her, but not in the way that a man knows a woman, but in the way that an artist knows his muse. There was no denying that there was a certain art to death and Mantellus fancied himself a gifted artist.
“If I remove your gag do you promise not to scream? If you scream then I will be forced to hit you,” the dark priest told his caged bird very calmly. He did not fear anyone hearing her and only gagged the young woman, because her screaming the night before ceaselessly irritated him. She nodded in compliance and he removed the gag taking a seat next to her in the only chair in the ro
om.
“Why have you taken me?” she asked her face was wet with tears, but she still had an air of defiance. Mantellus smiled appreciatively knowing he chose well when he picked this one. She had fire buried deep inside her- just like him.
Ignoring her question the priest said, “There is no need to discuss such things yet, my daughter. If there is one thing I have learned since becoming a priest it is to be more patient. Let us get to know each other a bit first. I am Mantellus…” When she did not answer he prodded, “And you are?”
“I am the Lady Tian Nightwind, daughter of Warlord Ethiel Nightwind, ruler in his king's stead of the Western Province of the North Lands!” she said with the assurance of one who claimed the title many times in the past. She no doubt expected that her father's name would scare the priest.
Mantellus whistled. “That is impressive. I am Father Mantellus, servant to the goddess, Ashura, formerly Mantellus Firekin, journeyman fire elementalist and former resident of Baj Prison,” he bowed from his seat as he introduced himself in a faux display of courtesy.
“If it is coin that you desire my father will pay handsomely for my release,” the Lady Tian ventured.
“I wish it were that simple, but there is something I desire far more than mere coin. It is difficult to explain,” Mantellus paused looking for the right words, then added, “It is more of a hunger that must be sated- a primal need if you will.”
The Lady Tian's eyes darted to her bright yellow dress with many ruffles and frills. Her body tensed and Mantellus smiled knowingly. “No, child, that is not what I wish of you. If it were, then our time together would have been done long before now. Although what I have in mind- well, let me say you will be less happy with what I have planned than if I were to simply force myself upon you.”
“You mean to kill me?”
“A mundane choice of words for an act that is infinitely powerful and, dare I say, beautiful, but yes, that is what I intend,” Mantellus' smile grew to a wide toothy grin, “but as I said 'Let us get to know each other a bit’ before the end comes.”
The dark priest held his hand flat in front of Lady Tian's face palm up with his fingers and thumb bent pointing toward the ceiling. Little flames burst from each digit as if they were five little candles like on a birthday cake. For a moment he watched as the light from his fingers flickered against Lady Tian's frightened countenance. Then Mantellus turned his hand over and dug his fingers into her chest burning through the pretty yellow dress and searing the flesh at the points of contact.
The Lady Tian Nightwind, daughter of Warlord Ethiel Nightwind, ruler in his king's stead of the Western Province of the North Lands, screamed in agony.
Chapter 31
“His lordship, Ethiel Nightwind, thanks you for your swift arrival,” declared the courtier, Sevu. His deep bow and formal demeanor did little to hide the old attendant's concern for the missing Lady Tian. The daughter of his lord and master had been missing for nearly a week. She disappeared on a trip to the marketplace to buy a new dress for the Sunshillah festival. Prince Janus would be at the festival and it had been her wish to impress him.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Sevu,” said Sari politely bidding the courtier to rise. “And this is my apprentice, Marian Lightfoot of Colum. I do not believe you two have met before. Is his lordship in attendance?”
Marian nodded to the courtier and politely told him, “It is a pleasure, sir,” but said nothing more instead choosing to keep her own counsel.
“The pleasure is mine,” Sevu told her and added to both of them, “Right this way, my ladies.” The courtier led them down a long hallway. “Lord Nightwind and his wife, Edessa, have been beside themselves with worry. They have not left the estate even to attend the Sunshillah masses or the festivities that started today. They traveled all this way to visit the king and partake in a little merriment after all that has happened back home...”
Sari nodded. “So the rumors are true? The orcs have been crossing the mountains on your southern border into Lord Nightwind's province. Do you know why?”
“Who knows the minds of brutes?” Sevu shrugged.
“Do not be so quick to judge,” Sari cautioned. “Orcs have a rough and savage nature to a certain extent, but they are not mindless predators like ogres and trolls. If they are making the trek across the Dread Marsh and the mountains beyond they have a good reason to do so.”
“Agreed, I have found the orcs to be an honor-bound if inhospitable race although I have only had the opportunity to travel into their lands once.” Marian added. The two rangers looked at each other and smirked sharing a private joke.
“Yes, well I will take your counsel under advisement and send some of our own men to investigate further once we return to the Western Province.” Sevu stopped at the large set of double doors at the end of the hall. “Please wait here while I ask his lord if he will see you. It is merely a formality of course.” Sevu disappeared into the large room closing the door behind him.
A minute later Sevu returned. “Lord Nightwind will see you now.” The trio entered the small throne room and the old courtier announced, “Lady Sarianna of the Red Tree Clan and Lady Marian Lightfoot of Colum are here to see the honorable Warlord Ethiel Nightwind of the North Lands Western Province!”
The ladies bowed in unison before the warlord. He was a well-built and handsome man in his mid-forties with a strong jaw line. His sandy blonde hair was shoulder length as was common in his region. His wife, Lady Edessa Nightwind, sat to his left and wore a gown that was long and made of red silk- a common site among the nobility since the color red was often associated with people of their station.
Warlord Nightwind said, “There is no need for such formality. We are here to discuss a grave matter and I do not wish to waste time on simple niceties while my daughter is in danger.”
“Of course, your highness, and if I may, I know I speak for my apprentice as well as myself when I say we will do everything within our power to find Tian,” Sari told them falling into a formal tone that she rarely used.
Marian nodded in agreement. Her education in the ways of the world had been extensive in the last few years, but she still felt unsure of herself around members of the upper classes.
“Can you tell us where Tian was last seen and how she came to disappear?” Sari asked.
Lady Edessa spoke up, “It will have been a week ago tomorrow that Tian and I went to the markets to buy her a new dress. She was very excited to see Prince Janus. There are not many children of high rank near her age and she was looking forward to seeing him again.”
“Tian also has a bit of a crush on the prince despite him being ten years her senior,” interjected her father.
Edessa continued, “We took a carriage to the marketplace along with an escort of our honor guards...” The normally stoic woman's eyes began to water as she spoke.
“And she disappeared from the markets?” Marian asked sympathetically.
Lady Edessa dabbed at her eyes with a kerchief. “Tian had gone to one booth while I was at another not far away when a fire suddenly broke out. It was small at first, but quickly spread and grew in a matter of seconds. We were separated as the flames came between us.
“One of our escorts tried to reach her, but he was caught in the fire and suffered severe burns to his arms and hands. Tian was backed into an alley to escape the fire and that was the last that I saw of my daughter.” Lady Edessa fought back tears and only allowed a few to be shed. It was considered unseemly for a noble woman to show such emotion even under the most difficult of circumstances.
“Thank you, Edessa. I know this is painful,” Sari told her reassuringly, “If I may ask two questions: What was Tian wearing when she disappeared, and what was the name of the booth you were shopping at when the fire broke out?”
“Tian was wearing a yellow gown with ruffled sleeves. I was shopping at Draker's Designs and Garments, but I do not know the name of the place where the fire broke out. However, it would be
hard to miss if you go to the markets.” Edessa dried her tears and added, “Sarianna, please find my daughter. I-I could not go on without her.”
“We will, your ladyship.”
Once the rangers left the estate Marian stopped Sari. “I know how she feels. My own son is out there somewhere- missing. He may have run off on his own, but the not knowing is the same. Byrn could be hurt or dead and there is nothing I can do about it. I want nothing more than to know he is safe and happy just as the Lady Edessa does for her own child. We must find this girl!”
“It is more than that. Lady Edessa blames herself for Tian’s disappearance and I fear what she may do if her daughter is not found.” Sari placed her hand on Marian's shoulder. “We will find Tian Nightwind. I promise.”
Chapter 32
The burned out stall where Tian went missing was easy to find just as Lady Edessa said it would be. The husk of the fire's remains was still untouched a week after the young noblewoman’s disappearance. Sari and Marian surveyed the scene and saw the shop Draker's Designs and Garments opposite the charred mess. A middle-aged man with a protruding gut was hanging several well-tailored shirts and dresses on display before opening for business.
“Go question Draker while I look around,” Sari told her apprentice. Not waiting for a response, because none was needed, she headed to the blackened remains of the unrecognizable market booth.
Marian approached the tailor striking up a conversation. “What a lovely dress,” she said picking up a light blue velvet gown with black lace sewn strategically at the bosom and cuffs. “I must say I have been trying my hand at tanning leathers of late and making my own clothing so I can appreciate the level of craftsmanship that goes into such fine work,” she made a show of examining the stitching and added, “Of course, I could never do such wonderful work as this.”
Rogue Magician (The Magician Rebellion) Page 17