Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (28 page)

She giggled and shook her head. “As
Uncle would say, ‘He’s toast.’”

Shorty grinned. “That he would, Little
One.”

Kip glanced between them, grimaced and
moved the first piece.

“See,” Jira said as she slid a Dagger
forward. “He always starts with the same piece.”

“You better watch yourself, boy. When
a woman learns your ways, you’re in trouble.” He winked at Jira who
giggled.

Kip nodded, smiled half-heartedly, and
kept focused on the board. A second piece moved forward to join the
first.

One of Jira’s Daggers moved into
position and Kip discovered he could capture it. “Aha!” he
exclaimed and moved his own Dagger to take it. Now he had a Long
Dagger able to move two spaces. He met her gaze and smiled most
satisfactorily. From where his Long Dagger sat, he had a good
portion of her pieces pinned in place. For her to move any of them
would enable him to strike.

She moved a piece forward along the
edge of the board. Thrice more they alternated moving pieces. When
it came her turn again, she gave him a worried look then pushed a
piece forward that put it within two spaces to the right of his
Long Dagger.

A grin spread across his face as a
two-move Long Dagger struck. Now his piece could move three spaces.
At three, it was now the mightiest piece on the board.

But, since his Long Dagger now sat on
the right side of the board, pieces on the left were vulnerable.
One of Jira’s Daggers struck and took one. He moved his Long Dagger
to the left, but failed to reach her piece before it took a
second.

“You’re in trouble, boy.”

Kip ignored him. Her Long Dagger was
now equal to his. He could no longer get within striking distance
without putting his own piece at risk. Indecision turned to
recklessness. Moving a piece to threaten hers, he lost another
which gave her a second Long Dagger.

As he sought to pin her Long Daggers
down, her smaller, single-move Daggers snatched his out from under
him which turned them into Longs. Oh sure, he took a few of hers,
but she laid waste to his pieces until he had no choice but to
capitulate.

Shorty laughed and clapped Jira on her
back. “You are your father’s daughter.”

Kip glowered at him. “What do you mean
by that?”

“Son, you don’t rise to become one of
the best knifers in the world without understanding strategy.” He
pulled one of his knives from the brace around his chest. “Against
a sword, this isn’t much of a defense. You have to think ahead and
plan your moves…” thrusting the blade toward Kip, he halted it less
than an inch away from his heart, “or you’re dead.”

He nodded toward Jira. “She does
that.”

“And I don’t?”

Gesturing to the scene of his latest
defeat, Shorty asked, “What do you think?”

Jira’s grin faded as she grew to
understand how Kip’s mood was turning sour. “I like playing with
you.”

“What you need to do, is not be so
predictable. If you play with someone long enough and always use
the same strategies, eventually they’re going to catch on. Like
Jira has with you. Try new ways to win. It might work. Or, it might
not.”

“But she’s only five!”

Shorty laughed. “What does age have to
do with it?” Turning, he flung his knife and skewered the apple
right out of Potbelly’s hand as he was about to take a bite? “I
could do that before I could walk.”

Kip doubted that, but left such
sentiment unsaid.

Getting to his feet, Shorty went over
to retrieve his knife and mollify an indignant Potbelly.

The young novice watched him go until
Jira asked, “Another game?”

Meeting her hopeful look, he nodded.
“This time, things will be different.”

She giggled and began resetting the
pieces.

The next two games he concentrated
less on what he was doing, and more on her moves; he lost badly. By
the third, he began to understand how she thought and tried
predicting her reactions to his and managed to lose only by a small
margin. The fourth game he maneuvered her three-move Long Dagger
into a trap and this time won.

Two eyes watched Potbelly’s silhouette
as it moved just beyond the campfire’s reach. It was a quiet night;
stars filled the sky and off in the distance came the cries of
nocturnal predators. Completely unaware that his movements were
under surveillance, the Pit Master moved a little farther from his
sleeping comrades and sat upon a nearby fallen tree.

The owner of the eyes kept still until
certain he planned to remain where he was, then crept from hiding.
The small form snuck stealthily through the camp; its gaze never
once leaving Potbelly. When the Pit Master shifted position upon
the trunk, it hit the ground and froze.

A snore from two feet away broke the
stillness of the night. Had Father Vickor been awake, the priest
would assuredly have seen the diminutive person that attempted to
avoid detection.

Picking itself up, it hurried through
the camp toward where the horses were picketed and the supplies
kept. It took only moments once it arrived at the packs, small
hands searched and found the store of apples. Taking two, it
glanced to ensure Potbelly’s attention was still focused in another
direction, then raced quietly for the night.

Fifty feet from the camp, it came to a
halt. A knife glittered in the moonlight as an apple slice was
removed. With stars as the only witness, it set the slice upon the
ground, took two steps back and sat. Legs crossed, it hummed a
soothing tune and waited.

Time passed; its head swiveled
periodically to glance back at the camp to see if its nocturnal
activities had been discovered. Finally, motion appeared out of the
night. A hand, smaller than the one that had stolen the apple,
snatched the slice from where it laid upon the ground.

Even in the scant light from the stars
above, the crescent shaped patch around its left eye was
unmistakable. It was the same as had come in Uncle Miko’s
temple.

Jira kept still as the
Little Brother ate the apple slice. When the sound of its chewing
ceased, she cut another. This time, she held it out upon her
upturned palm.
Would it take it?
Resuming the soothing melody, she
waited.

By small, hesitant steps it drew
nearer.

Her arm grew cramped from
been extended for such a prolonged period of time, but she feared
that shifting to a more comfortable position would ruin what she
hoped to accomplish.
Come on, Little
Brother. It’s okay.

When it snatched the apple slice out
of her hand, she fought the squeal of delight that threatened to
burst forth. Though only a barely-heard gurgle escaped, it was
enough to startle the earth spirit and she was once again alone in
the dark.

Inside she was jumping up and down
with joy. Removing another slice from the apple, she laid it upon
her palm, extended her arm, and waited.

Moving about in daylight was risky to
say the least. At the slightest indication they might encounter
someone, be it a farmer or patrol, they would press farther into
the scrub-brushed landscape.

There were few farms that needed
navigating around. In some, farmers toiled in their fields while
others remained vacant. It was while they skirted an
abandoned-looking building set off in the distance amidst a sparse
collection of scraggly looking trees that James brought his horse
to a sudden stop.

“Magic.”

“Where?” Jiron came next to him while
scanning the surrounding countryside.

The rest converged on them as they,
too, sought the source of what James felt.

He pointed toward the lone building.
“I’m not entirely sure, but I think over there.”

After a moment’s scrutiny, Jiron said,
“I don’t see anything.”

“Neither do I,” added
Potbelly.

“Irregardless, there is magic coming
from over there.” James glanced to Miko for confirmation and
received a nod.

“I feel it too. It is only present for
a moment before disappearing, only to reappear again.”

While keeping his gaze pinioned on the
building, Scar asked, “Should we investigate?”

“My first impulse is to say no. But
then I think about what we had to deal with back at the
mine.”

“It’s another stupid mage?”
By
stupid
, of
course, Jira referred to a mage who didn’t know what he was
doing.

James glanced to her and chuckled.
“Stupid or otherwise, it’s definitely a mage.”

The intermittent pricklings continued
and grew annoying. Then when a sustained one struck, he turned to
Jiron. “Let’s check it out.”

“All of us?” Scar asked.

“Yes, but let Miko and me lead the
way.”

The Pit Master gave a nod. “Not a
problem.”

“What’s the matter, Scar?” Potbelly
asked. “You’ve got that protective medallion.”

As more than one took humor at Scar’s
expense, he took a swing at Potbelly only to miss by a solid foot;
which only fueled their laughter.

James eyed the pair. “Enough.” Nudging
his horse into motion, he turned it toward the building and broke
into a canter. Miko fell in beside him.

The building turned out to be the
remnants of a barn; most of it having collapsed some time ago. Of
the farmhouse, there was nothing. No chimney, nor any other
evidence that would indicate where it had been.

As James approached, he
heard Miko say, “Odd.” Motioning for him to remain silent, James
nodded to the barn and mouthed,
In
there
.

The side facing them spanned fifteen
feet, hardly more than a fourth of its original size. James reached
the side, and as he moved to look through a gap, heard the
unmistakable mooing of a cow.

Surprised, but not deterred, he peered
through and saw a brown and white bull with an impressive pair of
horns staring back. The micro pulses of prickling resumed once
again, indicating magic was still being performed
nearby.

A quick scan failed to reveal the
source of the magic. Moving along the side of the barn, he reached
where it had collapsed and peered around to the inside. Again, all
he found was the cow. His attention then went to the opposite side
of the barn. Less than ten feet of it remained intact, but it was
of sufficient size to conceal the presence of a mage.

James pantomimed for Miko to go around
the other side while he crossed the interior so they could come at
it from either side. When Miko nodded and headed off in a quick,
but silent pace, James eyed the bull warily.

It stood between him and where the
mage had to be hiding. Hoping that the bull would not take
exception to being disturbed, James eased past the edge of the wall
and entered the barn’s interior. Other than eyeing him curiously,
the bull failed to react.

“Easy, boy,” he said ever so
quietly.

Taking each step so as not to startle
the bull, he crossed to the far side. By the time he arrived, the
bull had resumed eating the short grass that had sprouted at this
end of the barn. Figuring Miko to have already gone around the barn
and would be at the other end by now, he made ready to summon the
magic at the merest hint of attack and then peered around the
corner. The space was empty. There was no mage, yet the
intermittent prickling persisted.

Miko peered around the far side of the
barn and upon seeing James, came forward. Keeping his voice low, he
asked, “Where is the mage?”

James shrugged. “I don’t
know.”

With little in the way of trees or
large areas of standing brush to hide behind, any mage in the
vicinity should have been readily detected. And other than the
continued micro-pulses of tickling, James would be hard pressed to
believe that anyone, let alone a mage, was even in the
area.

Invisible?

He gave such a thought little
credence. For one thing, if a mage were using magic to cloak his
whereabouts, the prickling would remain constant. The fact that the
pulses were intermittent seemed to indicate the magic was not
continual. Therefore, no invisible mage. So where was it coming
from?

A barely heard zapping reminiscent of
static electricity intruded upon James’ inner contemplation.
Glancing around, he asked, “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“Something…”

Zap!

“There!”

Miko nodded. “I heard it too. I
think,” he said as he turned toward the barn, “it came from within
the barn.”

James stepped back within what
remained of the interior and was greeted with a curious, bovine
stare.

“There’s nothing…”

Before the statement could be
finished, a spark ignited upon the upper rear portion of the bull,
not far from the tail. With his senses no longer concentrating on
locating a mage, he caught a whiff of char in the air.