Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two (49 page)

“Right.”

Gathered before the largest building
in Gyr; a modest two-storied structure that looked to be the
village’s sole inn, were most if not all of Gyr’s inhabitants..
They encircled three people. One was an elderly man easily in his
sixties. He bore an air of command and had to be the village mayor.
The second was a much younger man who carried a cudgel in his right
hand and held the arm of the third person with his left. Old and
weathered would be the best way to describe the woman he held.
Barely five feet in height, she stood bent and stooped as if the
weight of the world had rested upon her shoulders far longer than
nature had intended.

Even from the edge of the village
James felt the angry tremor with undertones of rage that rippled
through them. Shouts rang out from the crowd.

“What is going on?”

Azhan came next to his master and then
concentrated on what the villagers were saying.

“They call for the death of
the evil one,” he translated. “
Enough is
enough
, another said.” Then there was a
shout and the crowd erupted with angry exclamations. The older man
in the center raised his hand and the crowd quieted.

James glanced to his
apprentice.

“He says that the death of Eddra will
not end the horrors, that she is not responsible.”

The crowd roared with angry
fervor.

“They are in a lean and hungry mood,”
Scar commented.

James nodded. “We need to get
closer.”

He caught glimpses of the trio in the
center as they made their way through the few outskirt buildings;
his gaze settled upon the elderly woman. “Think she is who we are
searching for?”

“Most likely,” Miko
replied.

The crowed screamed and drowned out
the words of the mayor.

“They mean to kill her, Master,” Azhan
exclaimed.

“Want us to save her?”

James glanced to Jiron.

“Master!”

Azhan’s cry drew his attention back to
the crowd and the trio they circled.

The younger man who held the woman’s
arm had let go and moved from her. The older man’s cries
intensified as he tried by sheer force of will to quell the anger
of the people. His efforts were stilled when a rock struck his
forehead and dropped him to the ground. A second rock followed the
first and hit the old woman in the side of the head.

“Save her…”

Even before the first word had passed
his lips, Miko’s horse leapt forward. Father’s Keller and Vickor
raced after with the Pit Masters and the rest hot on his
heels.

“Don’t kill anyone!” James
yelled.

Blood trickled down the side of the
old woman’s face. She raised her arms as a second stone hit her in
the chest, then another in the arm. Her efforts bore little fruit,
a barrage of a dozen missiles struck and knocked her thin, frail
frame to the ground.

Miko reached the edge of the crowd and
magic flared as the power of Morcyth parted those in his path,
flinging them out of the way.

Indignant exclamations quickly turned
to ones of fear and flight. Villagers fled upon seeing the armed,
mounted men in their midst. Those who did not move fast enough felt
an unseen force shove them mercilessly aside.

Miko hopped from his horse and rushed
to the woman’s side.

She lay unmoving on the ground. Her
face was red and swollen from where the rock had struck her.
Already, her left eye had swollen shut.

“Protect the Reverend Father,” Father
Vickor shouted.

He and Father Keller drew their
weapons and stood to either side of Miko. But they needn’t have
bothered. The villagers had all but vanished.

Scar appeared with the younger man who
had held the old woman’s arm. Sword drawn and with its point
pressed to the man’s back, he marched him forward. The older man
who had tried to calm the crowd lay dead beside the old woman. The
single blow to the head had done him in.

“Is she alive?” James asked as he came
to stand next to Miko.

When Miko failed to reply, Father
Keller said, “He is trying to keep her soul from
departing.”

James glanced to his friend and the
old woman. She looked bad; he didn’t have much hopes he would be
successful. Then he turned to the man being brought forward by
Scar.

“What happened here?”

“Ending the evil that has plagued our
village for the last three years.” He indicated the woman with a
nod of his head. “She is evil, and a witch, and has brought much
misery to our village.”

“He didn’t think so,” James replied,
pointing to the now-dead older man.

“He was a fool,” the younger man
spat.

“What is your name?”

“Azki,” he replied.

Jira gasped upon seeing the old woman.
“Is she dead, father?”

“Your uncle will not allow
that.”

She glanced to Father Keller and
received a nod.

“Kip,” Father Keller said, “why don’t
you and Jira round up the horses and secure them to the
inn.”

“Yes, Father.”

Faces peered from windows up and down
the street. Some looked worried, others retained the anger
displayed earlier. None, however, felt the need to confront these
armed intruders.

“
We’ll secure the area,”
Scar said. When James nodded, he, Potbelly and Tinok fanned out and
set up positions.

Just then the glow surrounding Miko
faded and he sat back on his heels.

“Well?” James asked.

“She’ll live,” he replied.

“It would have been wisest to let her
die.”

James turned on Azki. “Why do you say
that?”

Sneering, the young man replied, “She
will lay a hex on you and all who are with you.”

“I think we can deal with that should
it happen.”

“She is a blight upon the land,” the
young man insisted. “Keeping her alive will see an end to us
all.”

Miko shook his head. “I do not think
so,” he argued. “I sensed nothing malign about her. She is simply
an old woman, nothing more.”

“When she blights you and all you love
dies, forget not that I warned you.”

“I won’t,” James replied. Then to Miko
asked, “How soon until we can talk to her?”

The high priest stood and considered
it a moment. “Given her injuries and her advanced years, at least a
day or two, perhaps longer.”

“Damn,” James exclaimed. “We can’t
linger here.”

“No, we cannot,” Miko
agreed.

“I’ll see about getting more
supplies,” Shorty said and headed to the inn.

“We’ll have to take her with us
then.”

“
Given her advanced age and
injuries, any length of time on horseback will surely kill
her.”

James scanned the area and his eyes
settled on a wagon. “How about that?”

“It will be very slow,” Jiron warned.
“What we need is a carriage.”

“Is there a carriage in Gyr?” James
asked the young man. When Azki hesitated, he asked, “Where is
it?”

Azki kept silent until Jiron produced
a knife and gave him a look promising much pain.

“Back of the inn in the stable,” Azki
said. He then gestured to the dead old man. “It was
his.”

“Guess he won’t miss it,” James said.
“Kip!”

“Yes, sir?” said the novice as he came
from where he and Jira had secured the horses.

“There’s a carriage in the inn’s
stable. Find it and bring it ‘round.”

“By myself?” he asked.

Just then Scar came forward. “We might
want to get out of here if you wish to avoid bloodshed.” He pointed
toward a group of men that had come out of hiding, each bore a
weapon of some sort.

James sighed. “Does it ever end?” he
mumbled under his breath then louder said, “Shorty’s at the inn.
Take him and Kip and find the carriage back of the inn and make it
ready to travel.”

“We’re on it,” Scar replied. “Come,
Kip.”

“And find as many blankets and pillows
you can,” Miko added. “She will need them to survive the journey.”
To his priests he said, “Quickly gather supplies; food, water, and
so forth.”

“Yes, Reverend Father,” Father Vickor
replied

“Make haste.”

To Azki, James indicated the growing
group of armed men and said, “Tell them that we are taking her from
Gyr. If they try to prevent us, we’ll kill them all.”

“They may not listen to
me.”

“But to me they will.”

Azhan had donned his mage
robes.

Color drained from Azki’s face as he
realized he stood in the presence of an Empirical mage.

“Follow me,” he told Azki and stepped
off without looking back. James was surprised to see the villager
follow without hesitation. When he reached the armed men, he spoke
only briefly and they quickly dispersed.

“They do have a fearsome
reputation.”

James turned to see Tinok standing at
his elbow and arched an eyebrow questioningly.

“They are not known for their patience
or tolerance,” he explained. “Heard about one that was accidentally
knocked down by a child running at play and burnt the boy very
badly out of spite. You just don’t mess with them.”

Azhan returned to James and said, “We
shall have no further trouble, Master.”

“Thank you, Apprentice.”

Azhan beamed and then went to join his
friend Hikai in readying their mounts.

Though the group of armed villagers
had dispersed, pockets of men stood together in deep conversation.
Many cast quick glances to the strangers in their midst. James
wondered as to just how persuasive his apprentice had been. When
moments later Scar drove the carriage around the side of the inn,
James breathed a sigh of relief.

It was an open seat carriage, not
suitable in the least for inclement weather. He eyed the clouds and
though at the present the rain had stopped, they looked as if they
could open up at any minute.

Miko took charge of seeing that the
old woman, Eddra, was safely transferred to the carriage. The many
blankets and pillows taken from the inn made her very comfortable.
He had Father Keller accompany her in the carriage so as to keep an
eye on her. By the time Miko announced that she was as comfortable
as they could make her and that the odds of her surviving the trip
were at least even, the others were in the saddle and ready to
ride.

“Think I was recognized?”

Jiron shook his head. “I wouldn’t
think so. If they had, I doubt if anyone would have been on the
streets.”

“You have a point.”

Lowering his voice, Jiron said, “The
Dark Mage is far more a fearsome figure than Azhan could ever be.
Him, they would merely try to avoid. You…,” he paused and grinned,
“they’d flee for their lives.”

Sighing, he nodded then
glanced to the unconscious woman riding in the carriage.
Would she have any answers? Was she even the
right woman? Would she even survive the day?
Miko seemed convinced she wouldn’t die on them any time soon.
And with Father Keller at her side, James shared his friend’s
optimism.

He’ll be glad to get the
next part of this trip over. For once the Star is in hand, they can
make all speed to Meliana and Kenny. But getting the Star may prove
problematic. It was after all in a radioactive crater where once
had stood Dmon-Li’s high temple. Five years have passed since the
blast that closed the gate and prevented the god from crossing
over.
Would Godzilla be waiting? Or maybe
C.H.U.D.’s? Eight legged freaks?
Chuckling
at being the product of having seen way too many B movies when
younger, he drew forth memories of Meliana and got lost in the
past.

From Gyr they headed
southwest; directly toward the heart of the
Waste
. For a day and a half they
covered terrain that transformed from scrub brush to desert. Every
eye searched the horizon for indication that fell beasts from
the
Waste
were
about. Most did so with the hopes of never spying any; two on the
other hand had high hopes of encountering beasts of terrifying
aspect.

On the surface they were along to help
out an old friend, one to whom they owed everything; but the real
catalyst prompting their joining this venture was the hopes of
finding, capturing, and returning alive some beast not of this
world. From their time with James during the war, they knew he drew
such creatures like moths to a flame.

And so they waited.

“Shouldn’t we have reached the
boundary posts yet?” Scar asked James’ young apprentice.