Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (39 page)

“If you like.”

Father Vickor walked with the young
mage to the edge of the pit.

The eyes upon him made it difficult
for him to connect to the magic. He knew that if he didn’t get this
right a knife would be in his back in a flash. It took several
moments to quell his shaking nerves and reach a point where his
mind was sufficiently at peace to find the magic.

The distance was greater
than any he had attempted before. The sheer amount of earth needing
moved might be more than he could master. The one consoling thought
that steeled his will to undertake this task was that if he
succeeded, it might prove to The Dark Mage his worth. This had to
be done right. Maybe lead to more than Master and Slave. Dare he
hope,
Master and
Apprentice
?

Taking hold of the magic, he sent his
senses into the ground. As he had been taught, he spread a network
of magic throughout the dirt to either side of where he wished the
earth to rise. He took extra care not to send magic beneath the
pillar upon which his master lay. Such would result in toppling the
precarious perch. Once the magic encompassed a wide enough area, he
altered it slightly and began pulling it toward a central line
stretching from where he stood and across to his master.

The ground shook and an earthen rumble
came from beneath their feet. Raising his hands, Azhan made the
ground dance to his will. Dust blasted upward as the shaking and
rumbling increased. No longer could the pit be seen for the sheer
volume of dust particles filling the air.

As the dirt and rocks moved together
they compacted, then rose. Realizing his initial net had not caught
enough material to create the earthen rampart, he extended it
outward and downward to bring in what was required.

His mind’s eye kept track of it all.
This was his forte. Not many of his peers could do this, and not
many of those above him either for that matter. Pride sought to
disturb his concentration so he banished it and kept focused on the
raising of the berm.

“It’s caving in!” a voice
cried.

Off to his left, Azhan sensed the
surface above an area from which he had drawn earth had
collapsed

“Touch him not,” warned Father
Vickor.

As to whom the priest warned and why,
Azhan gave little thought. His concentration was for the steadily
rising berm alone. It now rose over halfway to the top and still
more earth was being pulled in to elevate it yet higher.

Minutes ticked by as he worked. With
every inch in height, the required stone became more and more. When
it came to within five feet from ground level, he deemed that to
draw more would risk toppling the pillar of earth upon which his
master lay.

The rumbling stopped and the ground
grew still as he let the magic go. He reached to the heavens and
took hold of the winds. This was a skill none of his former masters
knew he possessed and one that he had worked diligently on in
secret. A gentle breeze began to blow to push aside the dust cloud
and reveal his creation.

A level strip of earth, three feet
wide, now lay from the edge of the pit and extended at a slight
downward angle until connecting to his master’s pillar of earth,
five feet from the top.

Father Vickor patted him on the
shoulder. “Nicely done.”

“Thank you.”

Azhan received several nods of
approval and more than a few grins. Glancing to Tinok revealed no
sign of approval. The stony visage remained firmly in place. He was
sure the knifer would love nothing better than to kill him on the
spot.

Jiron went to where it began and
tested it with his foot. “Is it strong?”

“Yes,” Azhan replied “It will easily
hold your weight and maybe another. I would advise against testing
it further.”

“Scar, come with me and let’s get them
off of there.”

“You got it.”

Together, Jiron and the Pit Master
hurried across. Scar remained below while Jiron climbed up to join
Miko and James. The Dark Mage remained unconscious.

“I thought for sure that would have
woken him.”

“It would have if he but slept. This
is something more.”

“More?”

Miko nodded. “But not permanent. I
believe he will come out of it in a day or two.”

“Can he be moved?”

“Yes. His physical injuries are minor.
It is his mind and spirit that require healing.”

“Good.”

Kneeling next to his friend, Jiron
slipped his arms under James’ shoulders and knees. Then with gentle
pressure, he lifted him as he rose to his feet and carried him to
where Scar waited. After setting James on the ground once more, he
eased him over the edge and transferred him to Scar. Once the Pit
Master was on his way back with James, Jiron turned to
Miko.

“This is going to attract everyone in
the area,” he said as he gestured to the surrounding
devastation.

Miko nodded. “Probably.”

“Can he travel?”

“If kept upright, traveling should not
aggravate his condition.”

“Good.”

Once Scar made it across, Jiron hopped
down to the berm with Miko following suit. Together they crossed to
where the others had gathered around James.

“Put him on the horse that suffered
the least amount of damage.”

Scar glanced to Jiron.

“Neither one is in good
condition.”

“Still, we need to depart
immediately.”

Nodding, Scar enlisted Potbelly’s aid
and they managed to get James mounted.

The horse looked none too sturdy, but
it did appear marginally stronger than the other.

To Kip, Jiron said, “Get up there and
keep him upright.”

The novice looked
skeptical.

“Me?”

“Is there another here whose weight
that horse can bear?”

Though nervous about being in contact
with someone as infamous as The Dark Mage, Kip realized there was
little choice. Swallowing his anxiety, he steeled his nerve and
mounted. He then wrapped his arm securely around James’
chest.

Scar let go and the corner of his
mouth crooked up slightly as he said, “I wouldn’t let him fall. The
last person who did now boasts a tail and walks on four
feet.”

Kip’s eyes widened.

Father Vickor came to Kip’s side. “Pay
him no attention. He’s just having a bit of fun at your expense.”
When Scar chuckled, the priest said, “Wait until he needs healing
again, young Kip.”

Scar’s humor quickly
vanished.

“Then we’ll see how funny he thinks
this is.”

“Aw, didn’t mean anything by
it.”

“Enough of this!”

Jiron’s exclamation silenced them all.
“Let’s go.” He took the lead and headed for the bridge. Jira walked
at his side.

They heard the water long before it
became visible in the moonlight. Debris clogged it throughout a
mile-long stretch. Water that had once flown still and quiet now
crashed against a network of building sections, trees and the odd
statue. White froth sent plumes of mist into the air.

Jiron stood where the Tapu Bridge had
once spanned the river. A jagged outcropping of worked stone on the
far side was all that remained. The others gathered around as he
took in the roiling, debris-choked river.

“We’ll never make it
across.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded
silently to Scar.

“Have the mage erect another of his
earthen berms,” suggested Potbelly.

Jiron turned to Azhan. “Think you
can?”

The young mage, already fatigued by
his earlier ordeal, took but a moment to consider it before shaking
his head. “It’s not just raising the earth, but fighting against
the power of the river. It is beyond me.”

Father Keller joined them. “We could
go back to the main road and cross there.”

Scar shook his head. “Too far,
especially on foot.”

Glancing back to the river once more,
Jiron then turned toward where Kip sat on horseback with arm around
James’ chest to keep him upright.

“No telling how long he’ll be
out.”

Then to Azhan, “If a patrol were to
come investigate, from which direction would be most
likely?”

He pointed downriver. “Captain Aziri
and his band patrol the northern shore near the bridge to Inziala.
It’s a full day’s ride from here.”

“How many men does he
have?”

“Fifteen when we passed through not
long ago.”

“Do they have a mage?”

Azhan turned to Tinok and nodded.
“Hikai.”

“Powerful?” Jiron asked.

“Slightly less skilled than myself; he
has been trained for combat so do not dismiss him
lightly.”

Jiron looked to Miko who nodded,
confirming Azhan’s truthfulness.

To Scar he asked, “Have any more of
those drugged darts?”

“Plenty.”

“Okay, then.” Turning downstream, he
said, “Let’s go.”

Kip looked worried when he said,
“Shouldn’t we go upstream? Away from the patrol?” He glanced from
Jiron, then Scar then to Tinok. “Aren’t you afraid that our
presence will be discovered?”

Tinok turned an unreadable gaze upon
the young novice. “He’s counting on it.”

“We needed horses, Kip,” Father Keller
explained.

“The desert will kill us if we try to
cross it on foot,” added the knifer. “Water is scarce with many
miles between oases.”

“Oh.”

Jiron took the lead with Jira by his
side. The others fell in behind.

Somewhere near the rear walked Azhan
with Tinok ever present at his back. But it wasn’t the knifer that
filled his thoughts as they left the ruins of Tapu. Rather, it was
the inescapable fact that they meant to take down Captain Aziri and
his men for their horses.

That alone would not cause Azhan much
worry. Captain Aziri was a heartless man who took pleasure in the
torment of others. But his friend, Hikai, rode with Captain Aziri.
And with the Dark Mage unconscious, there would be no one to speak
up and prevent his death, as had happened to him. He knew Tinok
would slit Hikai’s throat without a second thought. Gaze moving to
the figure riding slumped forward in the grasp of the boy, he hoped
his master would waken before it was too late.

They walked until the sun neared its
apex, then found a place in the lee of a small hillside that
afforded some protection against prying eyes. A watch was set, a
meal taken, and then those not on guard duty took what rest they
could.

The day passed uneventful. Miko and
his priests took turns looking after James. Other than a grunt or
two, and a mumbled word now and then, he failed to stir. When the
sun neared the horizon and the shadows grew long, they tried to
waken him but all attempts failed.

“Will Uncle be okay?” Jira asked
Miko.

“I believe so. His mind needs to heal
and it keeps him asleep so it can.”

She looked worried for her uncle, but
trusted in Miko.

Jiron once again set a brisk pace. Two
hours they walked before a halt was called.

“We’ll set up camp here,” he
announced. “Gather wood for a fire.”

Father Keller glanced around at the
expanse of open grassland that Jiron had chosen. Even in the
deepening gloom, he could tell there was little cover.

“Kind of exposed here, aren’t
we?”

“Yes.”

He turned to Shorty. “How are you
doing?”

The knifer knew what he was really
asking. Spying Scar pulling a dried piece of beef out of his pack,
he drew a knife and threw. The blade sailed through the
air.

Scar had the piece of meat near his
mouth when he suddenly backpedaled with an expletive as the knife
struck the meat and plucked it from his grasp.

Jiron grinned. “I guess you’re
fine.”

Sword drawn, Scar rounded on Shorty.
“No he isn’t!”

Potbelly intercepted his friend, his
barely concealed amusement did little to calm Scar’s
anger.

“Miko, you and your priests stay here
by the fire with James. Kip, you too.”

He turned to Azhan and grew
thoughtful.

“I will do nothing to interfere with
your attempt to kill Captain Aziri and his men. Their deaths matter
little to me.”

Again, Miko nodded at Azhan’s
truthfulness.

Tinok caught the young mage’s
attention. “You do anything and you will be the first to
die.”

Azhan nodded gravely for he could see
the threat naked upon the knifer’s face.

Jiron turned to the others. “Alright,
let’s get ready.”