Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (33 page)

“I liked your Glerhan at your island
better, Uncle. The kr…uh, krak…”

“Kraken?”

She nodded to her father. “Kraken,
yes. I liked the kraken they rode.”

James patted her on the head. “It
wouldn’t make much sense to have sea creatures in a place like
this.”

The mage remained unconscious; Shorty
and Tinok were given the task of keeping an eye on him. The others
sat some distance away where their conversation would not be
overheard.

Father Keller had remained quiet ever
since the disappearance of the Glerhan. But now he asked, “Will his
flesh really rot from his bones should he try to
escape?”

James shook his head. “No.” Lowering
his voice he added, “It was all a bluff.”

Scar laughed. “After what he just saw,
I doubt if that mage will try to see if anything the Dark Mage here
just said would come to pass.”

Shifting position in order to
alleviate his aches and pains, Potbelly nodded agreement. “From
what we’ve heard, you have quite the reputation down here; master
of demons and mortals alike.”

Father Keller glanced to the mage and
wrinkled his nose. “Then what is that smell?”

“Bug repellant.”

Turning to Miko, Father Keller raised
an eyebrow. “Bug repellant?” Then he glanced to James.

“During the war, we had occasion to
travel through a pest infested swamp. That was something I cooked
up to keep them away. Did a good job, too.”

“Only problem was,” Jiron explained,
“the smell was so strong it attracted everything in the
area.”

James chuckled. “True
enough.”

“Won’t all that magic you did draw
mages to the area?” Father Vickor asked.

“Maybe. But from what Azhan said, the
nearest one is hours away. I doubt if what I did would carry across
such a distance. In any event, if one did sense what I did and does
come calling,” he paused then gestured toward the young mage, “they
would attribute the magic to him.”

Jiron nodded. On the ground before him
were arrayed several important looking documents retrieved from the
pack carried by the leader of the soldiers. One bore the seal of
Lord Cytok. He picked up the one with the seal and held it before
him.

“This looks important.”

“Can Tinok read it?”

Jiron shook his head. “No. He can
speak the language, but not decipher it.”

Glancing to James, Miko said, “Azhan
could.”

“Do you think he would?”

“After what you just put him
through?”

Scar laughed. “I doubt if he could
bring himself to deny you anything at this point. His dreams are
bound to be haunted with visions of rotting flesh and spear-toting
Glerhan for some time.”

The mage stirred as if aware others
talked about him. He took one look at Tinok standing over him and
froze.

James watched as his gaze
darted to and fro until finally settling on him. He wondered what
was going on behind the young mage’s eyes.
Would he try to escape?
That was the
question burning uppermost on his mind.

Moving cautiously as if fearing to
provoke Tinok into attacking him, the mage rose to a sitting
position and crossed his legs. Shoulders drooping, head hung low
and eyes downcast, the mage made a rather pitiable
sight.

“Let’s see if what I did will be
enough.” Raising his voice, he hollered, “Tinok. Bring Azhan over
here. I want to talk to him.”

If there was any doubt that the mage
understood their language, the raising of his head and sudden look
of fear dispelled the uncertainty.

Stepping toward the mage, Tinok said,
“Come on. You heard him.”

Azhan bobbed his head and rose. For a
moment, it looked as if he would bolt. But then his shoulders
sagged and he walked slowly.

Tinok shoved him once to quicken his
pace and the mage was soon standing before James.

“Your name is Azhan,
correct?”

The mage nodded. “Yes,
Master.”

“Ma…?”

James began to question the
use of the title then stopped. He had said,
You are mine, body and soul.
Perhaps
from the young mage’s perspective, he was now the property of the
Dark Mage; in essence, a slave. Despite his aversion to all things
relating to slavery, he thought this misunderstanding might help
keep the mage in line until he figured out what to do with
him.

Extending his hand toward Jiron, he
took the message bearing Lord Cytok’s seal. To Azhan he said, “Tell
me what this says.”

The mage bobbed his head then took the
message. After a cursory examination he looked up from the message.
“It orders my former captain to enter Kazan’s territory and destroy
any patrols encountered.”

“Why would he do that?” asked Father
Keller.

Azhan glanced to the priest. “There
were rumors of Kazan’s men crossing the border and raiding our
villages. This would seem to be the Lord Cytok’s
response.”

James eyed the young mage. “Just your
captain, seven soldiers and you to do this?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You must have no small amount of
skill then.”

Lowering his eyes, Azhan nodded. “I am
deemed competent, Master.”

Staring for a moment at the young
mage, James wondered about him. Azhan didn’t have the feel of one
steeped in power. But then, after the destruction of the School of
Magic and the devastation wrought throughout their ranks, maybe one
such as him would be considered competent in this post-war
Empire.

Raising his hand to reach for the
other papers in Jiron’s possession, he couldn’t help but notice the
way Azhan flinched, as if expecting to be on the receiving end of a
blow. James lowered his hand and the young man relaxed.

To Jiron he said, “Let me have the
others.”

Azhan examined each of the letters in
turn and pronounced them mundane.

James glanced to Miko who nodded
indicating Azhan was being truthful. He then turned to Potbelly.
“Are you ready to ride?”

Sighing as if such a possibility would
be taxing in the extreme, the Pit Master nodded.

“Good.” Coming to his feet, James
announced, “Then let’s get out of here. We’ve still a long way to
go.”

“Kip,” Miko said, summoning his young
novice to him. “Give our guest one of your shirts and trousers. You
are about the same height and attention would be drawn should he
travel in naught but his small clothes.”

“Yes, Reverend Father.”

Lowering his voice, Miko said, “Not
Reverend Father. Just Miko, at least until we return to the
temple.”

“As you wish,” a grin creased his
face, “Miko.”

Once Azhan donned Kip’s donated
attire, they mounted and continued south. The young mage rode next
to James. Behind them came Tinok; ready to intervene should the
mage prove troublesome. But they had little reason to worry. Azhan
appeared, at least for the moment, docile in his new
circumstances.

“Azhan.”

“Yes, Master?”

“If we return to the road, will we
encounter any patrols this side of the river?”

He thought a moment before saying, “I
do not think so, Master. Captain Allin said that another patrol was
being dispatched from Morac to guard this area while we dealt with
Kazan. They are due to arrive in two days.”

“Two days? From today?”

Azhan nodded. “That is what Captain
Allin said, Master.”

From where he rode on the other side
of James, Jiron said, “By then we should be south of the
river.”

They rode for a few moments in silence
before James glanced to Azhan and asked, “Will we be safe once we
cross over?”

The young mage shrugged. “These are
unsettled times within the Empire, Master. For those not of the
Empire, there is no place of absolute safety.”

“But we won’t be hassled by every
patrol we meet.”

“Most likely, no. Once you are beyond
the Tears of Empress, you will draw less suspicion for any soldiers
you encounter will assume that those guarding the borders already
checked you out and cleared you for entry.”

James glanced back to where Miko rode
and raised his eyebrows.

Miko nodded and
mouthed,
He speaks the
truth
.

“You’re uncharacteristically
forthcoming with information,” Tinok accused. “I would think that
you would seek to undermine our efforts at every
opportunity.”

Azhan remained quiet.

“We shouldn’t trust him.”

“Miko says he speaks the truth,” Jiron
argued. “That is enough for me.”

Tinok made a derisive noise before
spitting on the ground.

They rode southeast for an hour before
the road appeared. A ten wagon caravan heading south was making its
way; off the road a bit next to it walked two men and a woman, all
three having bundles upon their backs. All were heading
north.

As they approached the road, the trio
of pedestrians cast glances of mild curiosity their way as did the
teamsters and guards of the caravan. None appeared alarmed by their
appearance.

Scar gave each a friendly wave and nod
as he and the rest of their group rode past. One teamster offered a
greeting that was returned by Tinok. What was said appeared to be
met with approval.

Once on the road, they turned south
and rode at a quick pace.

The rest of the afternoon was spent
alternating between a fast, ground-covering gait and that of a
slow, energy restoring one. By early evening, the glistening waters
of the Ti-Migala River came into view. Not long after that, the
bridge spanning it appeared. Four soldiers in the service of Lord
Cytok stood guard.

James had them slow and come to a
stop. He sat there a moment contemplating the scene.

“Azhan, will they let us
through?”

“Possibly, Master. I was not informed
as to their orders.”

“What difference does it make?” Scar
asked before the mage could answer. “There are only four of them.
We can take them easily.”

“And have Cytok send his men out to
track down their killers? Hardly.”

“You could follow the river west and
cross at Tapu, Master. There are no soldiers garrisoned in
Tapu.”

James glanced to Azhan. “How far is
it?”

“You can’t seriously be considering
this,” Shorty exclaimed.

All eyes turned to him.

“A few hours ago he would have killed
us, now you are going to take advice from him?” The knifer’s
expression clearly indicated he considered such a thought beyond
all reason.

“Shorty has a point,” Jiron said. “How
far can we trust him?”

James turned to Miko. “Well? What do
you think?”

“I believe he is telling the
truth.”

“Okay, then.” Turning back to the
young mage, he asked, “Azhan, how far to Tapu?”

“A long day’s ride, Master.” Casting
his gaze to the position of the sun, he added, “Or rather, a long
night’s.”

Various forms of non-vocalized,
incredulous expressions followed. James allowed it to continue
without reproach. He trusted Miko, and if Miko said that Azhan
spoke the truth, then he would plan accordingly. It would be far
better to cross the river without running the risk of questions
being asked that could not be satisfactorily answered. Once on the
southern shore, suspicion arising from their presence would greatly
diminish.

Coming to Potbelly, he noticed how the
Pit Master’s face was pale and drawn. “Can you ride?”

“Of course I can ride. If you are
asking whether or not traveling tonight will be without discomfort,
I can assure you that it will not.”

Scar stood behind his friend and
rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

James cracked a smile and nodded.
“Very well. Let’s get going.”

They headed northwest until the river,
the bridge and the guards patrolling it faded from view. Then after
another mile or so of westward traveling, they veered south and
continued until the river once again appeared on the horizon.
Keeping it just within visual range, they made for Tapu.

At nightfall, they took a break and
rations were distributed. Azhan looked surprised when James handed
him a share equal to his own.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Not a problem, Azhan.”

Sitting on the ground next to the
young mage, James tore off a chunk of dried beef and started to
chew. Azhan merely sat there holding his ration of dried beef, half
a dried apple and a chunk of bread that was on the stale side of
fresh.