Mujahid’s old emblem of office, now hanging from Tithian’s neck, caught his attention. He cared little for the office, or the illusion of power that came with it, but the emblem brought back painful memories.
“Ahh yes,” Tithian said. He glanced down to where Mujahid was staring. “I didn’t take pleasure in succeeding you.”
“You’ve had forty years to voice a complaint.”
“Can’t say I blame you for your suspicions. But I’m here to tell you something, old friend.”
“And what would that be,
old friend
?”
“Something went horribly wrong that day—the day the heir disappeared. I did everything I could to turn Kagan from his course, but he would not listen to me.”
“You address the
Most Holy Archmage
by name now?”
“You have no idea how fine the line is that I walk. He sent me to find the boy. But you know of his return already.”
Mujahid’s suspicions were confirmed. Tithian was aware of the forged talisman.
Tithian waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I understand why you did it.”
“Then you must know that he’s gone.”
Tithian retrieved his Talisman of Archmages, hanging from a golden chain around his neck, and stared at it. “Of course,” he said. “The gods bring us hope, then yank it from our grasp. Typical. But then a god has the luxury of whim, whereas you and I—”
“Much has happened in forty years for you to blaspheme so casually,” Mujahid said. “There was a time you would have flogged someone for less.”
“Forgive me. It seems I’ve forgotten your religious sensibilities.”
“Only mine?”
“Come now, Mujahid. This should be a joyous reunion, not one filled with—”
“Are you delusional, man?” The heat rose in Mujahid’s face. “Forty years. Not a single attempt to reach out to my brother or me, and yet you have the audacity to seek me out now under the guise of…what is this, friendship? Have you completely forsaken your vows? I should kill you where you stand and be done with it.”
“The vows,” Tithian said. “They seem quaint now.”
“Quaint?” The anger rose higher in Mujahid’s throat. “Is the color white so tempting after all?”
“Does it get lonely on that pedestal of yours, Lord Mukhtaar?”
Mujahid stood and turned toward the decrepit staircase. “If you try to—”
“You weren’t the one to stay behind. You have no idea what it was like after you left…the atrocities I witnessed, all in the name of Religion.”
“Now you hold Religion accountable for the evils of humankind?”
“I hold Religion accountable for being more concerned with the good of Religion than the good of humankind. If you can’t…please, let’s stop this. We have much to discuss and this isn’t helping.”
Mujahid channeled a small amount of power, allowing the symbol of ascension to pulse. He knew the effect it would have on his appearance, and he wanted to drive home the point.
“Never forget what I am, Tithian. I am not concerned with your existential crisis. Nor am I concerned with your revision of history. You placed a sacred purpose above yourself the day you took the vows. I am your superior,
priest
, and I will hold you to your sacred duty, with or without your obedience. Now, I would know your intentions, and the span of time you have to fill the gaps in my knowledge grows shorter with every breath you take.”
Another bead of sweat formed on Tithian’s brow. He held up his hands. “I am here to
help
you.”
“Oh happy coincidence.” Mujahid released the power and his vision returned to normal.
Tithian leaned forward. “I knew two things.” He held up a finger. “One, you hoped the boy would return. You took your talisman and left me with a fake. Why else would you do this? Two.” He held up a second finger. “When the boy was killed—near Caspardis I believe—I knew you would charge off to the Pinnacle yourself, feeling you had nothing left to lose. When word reached me of the
godlike
feats you accomplished in Caspardis—something along the lines of slaying the entire army and raping their loved ones, if the stories are correct—I knew you’d have no other choice but to come to Agera. You are here. I was right. No mystery. No scheme. No coincidence. Logic.”
“You’ll forgive me if trust comes slowly.”
“I’m here to help.”
“You’re correct in one thing…I intend to make for the Pinnacle—”
“My friend, I don’t—”
“And I need to get out of Agera. Either you’ll help me, or you won’t. I don’t advise attempting a
third
course of action.”
Tithian took a deep breath and exhaled. “That’s why I’m here. You can’t approach the dock during the day. You discovered that yourself. We should wait for darkness.”
Mujahid nodded. Tithian might be a traitor, but he was right.
Tithian settled in with his back against the wall, glancing through the opening to the street below from time to time.
“Tithian,” Mujahid said. “Just so there’s no misunderstanding…if you betray me, there will be no place in the multiverse for you to hide. If I have to consume the life force of a thousand innocents to see your end, I’ll gladly pay Zubuxo’s price.”
Tithian looked away. After several moments, he nodded, his expression inscrutable.
Several hours passed in awkward silence, save for the occasional rodent scampering about. The sun set, blanketing the room in darkness as a humid chill swept through the air. When it was full dark, Mujahid stood and followed Tithian out of the building.
No militia patrolled, which made no sense to Mujahid. But if the absence of militia on the streets made no sense, their absence at the docks was madness. Not a single guard patrolled what would be, in any large city, the most crime-ridden area. Something wasn’t right…and it grew less right the more Mujahid considered it.
Tithian stopped and pointed ahead. “The captain of that boat owes me a favor.”
Mujahid wasn’t sure what would kill him first, local militia lying in wait or an ambush of Tithian’s fashioning. But he knew that sometimes the best way to avoid a trap was to spring it.
An older man emerged the wheelhouse of the boat and called for a couple of deckhands. He nodded when he saw Tithian and Mujahid, but the way his eyes darted between them made Mujahid feel uneasy.
“Lord Tithian,” the man said, and Mujahid’s eyes widened.
Tithian saw Mujahid’s expression and shook his head as if to suggest Mujahid should ignore the comment.
“I won’t be long,” Tithian whispered.
Mujahid grabbed Tithian’s shoulder with a firm hand. “Captain Roberts addressed you as
Lord.
Surely you intend to correct him?”
“Kagan bestowed the title years ago, nothing more. The captain isn’t suggesting I’m a
Mukhtaar
—”
“You’re damned right, nothing more,” Mujahid said and released Tithian. Outrage boiled beneath the surface. Better men than this traitor had lost their lives to the Rite of Testing.
“You don’t say no to Kagan,” Tithian said.
“
I
said no. You were there. A Lord says no when no
needs saying.”
“Is this the passenger?” The captain jerked his head toward Mujahid.
“Captain Filo Roberts, I present to you Mujahid Lord Mukhtaar,” Tithian said, introducing the two men according to the old custom.
Captain Roberts lost all color when Tithian pronounced Mujahid’s title.
“You were expecting us, Captain,” Mujahid said, reaching out to shake the captain’s hand. “My companion gets around most efficiently, it seems.”
“Lord Tithian and I are old friends, Lord Mukhtaar,” Captain Roberts said, bowing his head when he pronounced the clan name.
“I engaged the Captain’s services before you arrived,” Tithian said.
Mujahid had suspected Tithian would betray him at the first possible opportunity, but knowing with certainty was like a knife in his back. He weighed his options and decided he had better chances on the riverboat than dealing with the Agera militia.
The boat’s deck was flat, like a barge, except for the aft wheelhouse, which rose two stories above the deck. A deckhand led them toward a row of doors on the first story.
They settled into a room below the wheelhouse and the deckhand announced the ship would be leaving momentarily. Tithian prepared his bunk and sat on the side of it.
Mujahid needed time to think, and he couldn’t spend another minute in that room with Tithian. He walked over to the door and opened it.
The cool night air was refreshing as it rushed into the room. He stepped out onto the deck, careful to keep an eye on Tithian. Two deck hands ran down the gangplank, as if something had gone wrong with the launch, and Mujahid took a closer look. He thought better of it and looked back toward the room.
Tithian was no longer on the bunk.
Mujahid ran into the room, thinking he had missed another door, but there was only one way in or out. Tithian was gone.
Mujahid ran out on deck.
The sound of creaking wood startled him and he spun around.
Tithian was sitting on the bunk as if he had never left.
“Why so frantic?” Tithian said.
“Where did—”
The boat heaved away from the dock and pulled a portion of the pier with it. Mujahid fell to the deck and rolled before he could stabilize himself against the wheelhouse. He watched as the river drained away, pulling the boat and part of the pier along in its wake. The river appeared stable as always, but the world tilted at an impossible angle, making Agera appear to be up in the sky, while the opposite bank of the river appeared to be the ground.
“Quake!” Captain Roberts said.
One of the deckhands shouted and pointed back at the dock. A mooring line was coiled around the upper thighs of a trapped crew member like a giant snake, and the man was struggling to free himself. The boat lurched farther from the dock and the serpentine lines pulled tight, severing the man’s legs from his torso and dropping them into the chaotic river below. The man’s torso convulsed on the dock as his life drained from him in a pool of red death.
Mujahid prepared a symbol that would put the man out of his misery, but the river heaved once more and broke his concentration. When the waters receded from the dock, the suffering man was gone, swept into the churning waters.
The quake lasted less than five minutes, but the damage it had caused to the Agera docks was considerable. Mujahid thanked the gods that dry rot had chosen the pier instead of the boat.
“Is the boat sound, Captain?” Mujahid said as stood.
“No way to be sure without climbing up under it myself. But she’s seen worse.”
Between the quakes and the archmage’s lackeys, Mujahid wondered if
he
would survive.
The city of Three Banks, the northernmost city of the Kingdom of Tildem, received its name from the convergence of the great Orm River with a tributary that originated from Union Lake at Agera. The two rivers came together to create a large triangle of land pointing due south, which locals referred to as
North Bank
.
North Bank was the city’s commercial center, and docks lined both sides of the great triangle for mooring riverboats and barges of all sizes. The Sea of Arin was too treacherous for commerce, only navigable at certain times of the year, and then by only the most knowledgeable captains. The Orm provided a safe alternative for merchants to transport their goods.
A great signal tower at the point of the triangle was the largest feature of North Bank, standing several stories higher than the tallest buildings in the city. Men in the tower carried flags of various colors to regulate the flow of water traffic.
The trip from Agera had been a long one, and Mujahid had grown tired of keeping a close watch on Tithian. He was sure the man was up to something, but conversation had been minimal. Whenever it was unavoidable, however, Tithian would warn Mujahid against traveling to the Pinnacle. Mujahid wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he had to admit Tithian looked genuinely concerned about him. The man had more layers than a Turian onion.
“Make ready,” Captain Roberts shouted from the wheelhouse, and deckhands darted about. The boat drifted away from North Bank, heading toward the docks on what the locals called East Bank.