Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (27 page)

“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.”

Her little face grew animated as she
got into the story.

“One day while Little Tail hid in the
forest after his brothers had stolen his food and driven him away,
he found the Golden Acorn.

“Poor Little Tail was so hungry that
he ate the Golden Acorn and was transformed into a sly fox. He then
returned home and ate his brothers.”

Her grin was infectious and James
couldn’t help but smile. “And the acorn glowed?”

Her little head bobbed up and
down.

“So the mage was Little
Tail?”

Potbelly’s question generated much
laughter. James ignored it. He stepped forward and patted her on
the head. “Thank you, Jira. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You’re welcomed, Uncle.” Turning
about, she returned to her seat.

“It is possible the mage’s artifact
came from The School of the Arcane,” Nerun suggested. “Who knows
what they may have had secreted away in there. Once it blew, things
hidden may have been revealed.”

James nodded. “That makes sense. Once
the masters were gone, their apprentices might have helped
themselves to potent magical objects.”

“The one who attacked your island,
after having discovered the latent magical powers of the object in
his possession, went after you for the rewards being offered?” Scar
proposed.

Potbelly nodded. “The men with him may
have been mercenaries, and not associated with any of the
Warlords.”

“Very likely.” James turned to Illan.
“What do you think?”

Illan considered Nerun’s theory for a
moment. “We have heard nothing of this. Had someone suddenly come
into so much power as you say this object provided the mage, I
would have thought our spies would have gotten wind of it. Also, we
would have heard if anyone was putting out feelers for mercenaries
to take you on.”

“Still, that would explain why we
hadn’t heard of this object before, or the mage wielding
it.”

“True,” Illan agreed.

James glanced at Jiron. “The School
wouldn’t be too far out of our way.”

“Are you thinking of paying a visit
and see if we can discover anything?”

“Possibly.”

“I understand your need to reunite
with your wives,” Illan said. “But you must realize, the Empire
remains in utter chaos. Passing through unmolested will not be
easy.”

“Patrols are everywhere,” Captain
Ranthus added. “All the main roads are watched, as are the areas in
between. It won’t be long before they will know who it is that has
entered their territory.”

“Be that as it may,” James replied,
“that is where our road lies. We have business within the
Empire.”

“Investigating the whereabouts of this
mage?” queried Nerun.

“In part, yes. But there is another
matter of slightly more importance that needs doing.”

“What is that?”

James smiled. “A task that has long
been overdue.” What that task may be and how it could possibly be
of more importance than discovering the identity of the one who
attacked his island, he kept to himself.

“I would appreciate it if
you could send word to
Ollinearn,
as well as Ellinwyrd in Cardri
. One of them may have some idea as to the identity of those
behind the attack, and might also have an idea about the yellowish
object of power the mage wielded.

“Don’t bother attempting to find us in
the Empire. If you learn anything, send the information to
Meliana’s father in Corillian.”

Illan nodded. “I can do that. Might
take some time, though. Corillian is no small distance from
here.”

“I understand.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard to find us,”
quipped Scar. “Last time we entered the Empire, we left a swath of
destruction behind us a mile wide.”

“This time, we are going to slip
through quietly.”

Potbelly shook his head. “We tried
that once, remember?”

In the guise of caravan merchants,
James and the others had first traveled to the slave markets of
Korazan where they rescued Jiron’s sister from the slave block,
then pushed deeper into the Empire to find Miko who had also been
captured and enslaved.

Throughout the trip to Korazan, the
plan went off without a hitch. After that, things had taken a turn
for the worse culminating in a desperate fight and flight from the
Empirical Capital, Azzac.

“Yes, I do,” James replied. “I also
remember that it was a certain pair that had gotten us into most of
it. I trust we will have a better appreciation for discretion this
time through?”

Scar nodded, then jerked his head
toward Potbelly. “I’ll make sure to keep him in line.”

“Me? Who was it that went
drinking…?”

“Enough.” James waved them to silence
as he turned to Illan. “We leave in the morning.”

The sound of a stool scraping across
the floor heralded the rise of Miko. “In that case, my priests and
I have work to do.”

Fathers Vickor and Keller stood.
Father Keller glanced to their young novice. “You too,
Kip.”

Engrossed in a game of Bones and
Daggers, one which he was on the verge of losing, Kip failed to
notice. A sudden quick blow to his shin from a well-placed,
beneath-the-table kick from Jira brought him back to the here and
now.

Giving her a grimace, he followed her
nod and saw his superiors staring at him. “What?”

Miko broke into a half-grin. “Come,
Kip. There are people who need attending.” As his apprentice hopped
to his feet, he said to Illan, “We shall do what we can before
departing.”

“Any help would be most
appreciated.”

Nodding, Miko led his priests and
novice from the room.

Once they were gone, James retook his
seat, turned to Illan and said, “Now, what can we expect once we
pass into the Empire.”

Throughout the rest of the afternoon
and well into the evening, they discussed patrol patterns, the
political climate, and a myriad other points needful for those
seeking to slip through unnoticed. A map was produced marked with
the boundaries for each of the Warlords. Illan made it clear that
these lines were impermanent and were but rough
estimates.

The intelligence was most detailed in
the area north of Korazan. After that, it was spotty at best. They
worked out an initial route. Once they left Tinker, they would move
south-west toward Zereth-Alin. South from there would take them to
Tears of the Empress, a sizable lake on whose eastern shore laid
Korazan. James planned to skirt the western shore and avoid coming
anywhere near the slave markets. Too many chances of being spotted.
Memories of what he did there still ran deep. Once across the river
they would at that time determine the best way to
proceed.

Miko spent a sleepless night with the
mindless victims of the mage-turned-creature. Despite his best
efforts, by the time the sun rose over the horizon he had come no
closer in restoring them to their former selves.

“This is not my task.” That was his
answer when James queried him about his ineffectualness. “Had
Morcyth wished me to be the bringer of their restoration, they
would have been restored.”

“Why wouldn’t Morcyth want you to heal
them?”

Shrugging, Miko replied, “I do not
know. Maybe they are beyond even Morcyth’s reach. Or maybe he does
not care.” James’ frown prompted him to elaborate.

“Each god has a purpose to which they
strive. Morcyth is not a healing god though we, his priests, can
heal. His mandate is more that of a teacher.”

James’ frown remained as he glanced to
the vacant-eyed villagers around them. “Couldn’t he teach you how
to cure them?”

“Most likely. But he has not and we
must accept his will. Gods do not obey the wishes of men. Not even
those of their High Priests.”

“Then what good are they?”

Turning, they found Tinok staring at
them from astride his horse.

“The gods hold the balance of the
universe in their hands. Woe to us should the gods
depart.”

“I doubt that.”

About that time, Jira came running up
to James. “Are we ready to go see Mother?”

“It’s still a long road
ahead?”

“I know.” She glanced over her
shoulder and saw her father riding toward them. “It’s exciting.”
Darting forward, she took three steps and leapt. Jiron extended his
hand, Jira grabbed it and was plopped before him on the horse. She
turned to him and hollered, “Come on, Uncle. Let’s go.”

James grinned as he and Miko crossed
to their horses and mounted.

Illan was there to see them off; as
were Nerun and Captain Ranthus. “You shouldn’t have any problems
for the first day or so. After that, be wary of anyone you
meet.”

“I think it’s the other way around,”
Shorty said. “Everyone should be wary of us.”

The group setting off from Red’s Place
that morning was about as deadly a bunch as one could every hope to
bring together: First there was The Dark Mage; a High Priest who
happened to be one of the most deadliest sword fighters around; and
a bevy of ex-pit fighters that would love nothing better than to
enter a fight, each a deadly foe in their own right. James felt
fairly confident that there was little his group couldn’t
handle.

Illan grinned. “You may be right. But
be careful anyway.” He came and extended his hand.

James took it and said, “We
will.”

“Bye, Uncle Illan.”

“Tell your mother I said
‘hi’.”

Jira bobbed her head. “I
will.”

Scar and Potbelly once again took
point as their group headed out from the ramshackled collection of
buildings. At Tinker, they encountered a group of Raiders with
another six villagers in tow on their way to the
stockade.

“Hope they find them all,
Father,”

Jiron gave her a hug. “So do I,
Jira.”

From Tinker, they followed the same
trail as they had on the way in. Once they hit the main road, they
turned to the right and began the two day ride to
Zereth-Alin.

As Illan predicted, the first day
remained uneventful and they made good time. The second day proved
just as lacking in hindrances. Twice they saw patrols off in the
distance, but none bothered to come and investigate. When the
skyline of Zereth-Alin came into view the sun hung low in the
sky.

Illan had indicated that their group
would be well advised to not only give the town a wide berth, but
to head cross-country from this point.

“You run a greater risk of
encountering a patrol after reaching Zereth-Alin. Once past, stay
east of the road until reaching Tears of the Goddess.”

As supplies were not yet an issue,
they cut cross-country through farms and fields. A few farmers
turned to gaze at the group passing before returning to their
toils. The sun was all but set by the time Zereth-Alin faded from
view in the growing dusk.

They continued on until all vestiges
of daylight were banished and stars reigned supreme. After making
camp, a watch was scheduled that included everyone but James and
Miko; James because he was in charge, and Miko due to being a High
Priest. The one-time street kid didn’t mind the arrangement at
all.

While the adults talked among
themselves, Jira and Kip settled in for a game of Bones and
Daggers. She was growing ever more proficient at the game, a
situation that did not sit well with the young novice.

In the beginning, his wins came
easily. Now though, he had to work much harder for every victory;
victories that were no longer certain.

Once the board was set, Jira grinned
that mischievous grin of hers and asked, “Six?”

Kip shook his head.
“Three.”

“Okay.”

The last time game they played where
Long Daggers could capture and retain six pieces, Jira had trounced
him unmercilessly. He still felt the shame of that loss. After all,
he was nearly a young man, and she but a child of five!

In a regular game, whenever a Dagger
captures either a Bone or an opponent’s Dagger, the piece is placed
beneath it and the Dagger becomes a Long Dagger. With each
succeeding piece placed beneath, it gains one additional move. At
six, Jira could move nearly halfway across the board, readily
penetrated his defenses and snatched his own Long Daggers out from
under him. He vowed never again to play a game beyond the normal
three.

“Going to beat her this time,
Kip?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw
Shorty approaching.

“Of course.”

“Hmmmm.” As he came and sat before the
board between them, he turned to Jira, “What do you
think?”