Dark shores of salvation, p.24
Dark Shores of Salvation, page 24
part #3 of Travails of the Dark Mage Series
“He did not die by my hand.”
“Then whose?”
Scar knew the plan was to have them focus on Azhan, so he replied, “Azhan the Great. What he did at sea will be minor compared to what he has in store for when your army launches their attack.”
“Not if he dies first!”
Scar laughed, long and hard. “You’re a fool if you think you can kill Azhan. A whole armada of your ships failed to do so, your spies here in Abu Dar failed to do so, and from what I see of those before me, he has little to worry about. He is powerful beyond measure.”
“Lies! Again lies!” the young priest exclaimed. “He has been arrested, his powers have been nullified, he is little more than a whipped pup.”
The older priest barked a command in their tongue at the young priest and the priest bowed his head and took a step back.
A hint of something familiar wafted upon the air. Scar flicked his eyes around the room and saw a smoking smoker roll toward the left side of the six priests arrayed before him. A moment later, Potbelly’s second smoker appeared headed to their right.
“It matters not,” Brown-haired priest said. “The power of Gyomias is supreme. We will deal with this upstart servant of the Unclean One after we have dealt with you.”
“I hardly think I have much to worry about from the likes of you six.” He saw how the priest was unconsciously wrinkling his nose; it was only a matter of time. Had to keep them focused on him so they wouldn’t notice the smoke from the smokers. Need to have them do their work.
“Gyomias is a false god.” The young priest’s anger burned all the hotter. Scar turned his attention upon him. “Her priests little more than children playing like adults.”
“Blasphemer!”
The young priest launched himself at Scar, his mace caught the Pit Master in the chest and knocked him back.
Either the smokers had done their job, or the surprise of the young priest’s attack had broken the leader’s concentration; Scar was free.
As he and the young priest fell backward to the floor, Scar took hold of the mace’s shaft, and with a twist freed it from the priest’s grasp.
They hit the floor, Scar backhanded the mace across the young priest’s face and heard bones crack. The young priest rolled away and moved no more.
“What is this?”
Scar scrambled back to his feet, the mace out before him. The five remaining priests arrayed against him. He saw the leader’s face scrunch in deep concentration; was sure that the man was trying to connect to his god’s power. Scar didn’t wait for him to succeed. With a cry, he hurled the mace toward the priest who had taken his swords. As the priest dodged the missile, Scar nailed him with his shoulder dead center on the chest.
With an “oomph” the priest hit the floor with Scar on top of him. He lost his grip on one sword and it clattered across the floor.
Brown-Haired priest came up behind them with mace raised to crush Scar’s skull. But before the blow could fall, the tip of Potbelly’s sword emerged from his chest.
A second blow with his knife, and Potbelly threw the dying priest aside.
“Took you long enough!”
“Hey,” Potbelly replied as he turned to face the remaining three, “had to go get an ale and a shank of meat first.”
A knee to the priest’s groin, an elbow to the throat and Scar had his sword back. A quick thrust and the priest gurgled his last. Scar got to his feet again as the last three priests took defensive positions.
Three priests bereft of their power and armed with mere maces were no threat to Scar and Potbelly. They spoke briefly in their language then two launched an attack while the third dashed across the room toward a chest.
The first priest tried an over-handed attack but Potbelly deflected the blow with his knife and followed through with his sword.
Scar didn’t wait for the other priest to attack, he darted forward and thrust into the shoulder of the arm wielding the mace. As the weapon fell from his non-responsive fingers, Scar finished him off with a second thrust through the chest.
The last priest was almost to the chest.
“Get him!” Potbelly yelled.
Scar turned to find the priest had yanked up the lid and golden light filled the room. In an instant he realized what the chest contained. Crystals filled with priestly power. Without thinking, he threw a sword at the priest and caught him a glancing blow along the priest’s left side.
Crying out, the priest stumbled to the side but was able to reach in and grab a crystal.
Scar threw his other one and it sank into the man’s thigh causing the priest to stumble and fall away from the chest
With another agonizing cry, the priest suddenly exploded with light. He had tapped the power within the crystal.
“Damn!” Scar cried as he and Potbelly rushed forward.
The priest turned upon them.
“Quick!” Scar yelled. “Before he can do anything!”
He and Potbelly sprinted toward the priest.
The man had pulled out Scar’s sword from his thigh and cast the bloody weapon aside. He saw the two Pit Masters fast approaching. He eyed the chest filled with powered crystals. But Potbelly reached them first.
“Give it up,” Potbelly said. “That crystal isn’t going to last forever and you are going to need its power to stem the flow of blood and to seal the wound. Use it on us, and you die.” He had no idea if what he said was true, but it was worth a shot.
Scar retrieved the first sword that had struck the priest and began circling to get behind the man and block the man’s retreat through the rear exit.
The pain in the priest’s eyes was unmistakable. They had seen that look countless times in the Pits when an opponent had been delivered a mortal blow. But even now, the wound was beginning to close and the blood flow had lessened as the crystal’s power worked to heal.
The priest took a limping step toward the rear exit and Scar bolted forward.
A surge of yellowish power blasted him back and the priest continued toward the exit.
“You’ll never make it,” Potbelly warned the priest.
The priest just glared.
Scar recovered and rushed forward again; Potbelly kept a more measured pace as he approached the priest.
Again, a powerful blast struck Scar full on, lifting him off his feet and throwing him six feet through the air before he hit the side of a bed and smashed through the frame.
The priest turned the crystal toward Potbelly and Potbelly slowed. Shuffling faster, the priest limped into the exit and a yellowish hue filled the entryway behind him. Pausing but a moment, he gave Potbelly a hate-filled stare, then turned and shuffled out of sight.
Potbelly reached the entryway first and tentatively extended his knife so that its tip touched the yellowish hue.
“It’s one of James’ shields I think.”
Scar nodded and scabbarded his sword then went to retrieve the other. “Or something similar.”
Potbelly nodded to the area behind the shield. “Think we should go after him?”
Scar shook his head then pointed to the chest filled with glowing crystals. “I think we need to get those to James before that priest finds a way to recover them.”
“Good idea.”
Lying beneath a table against a wall were several sacks and he picked them up. “At least there are five less of them for us to worry about.”
Two sacks they filled with the crystals from the chest. Another sack they filled with the light crystals ensconced on the walls. They also took the four books with Gyomias’ symbol and two documents that looked official.
Chapter Twenty
The opened bag of crystals taken from the chest sat on the table before him.
“We think these are like the ones you make,” Scar said.
Potbelly opened the other bag and light shone forth. “These were set in wall sconces like torches.”
James sent his senses into the crystals from the chest. “They’re powerful all right.”
“Can you use them?” Jiron asked.
“Not sure. Possibly.”
He had recently returned with Lord Kinezki and the others. After sequestering the lord with a guard, he had tried to sleep before the coming battle. The question as to the lord’s involvement with the invaders would have to wait until Miko’s return. Only Morcyth’s High Priest could tell truth from lie. It hadn’t seemed like he’d done more than shut his eyes before being wakened for the return of Scar and Potbelly. He desperately needed more rest. His earlier expenditure of magic had drained him more than he had anticipated.
Yawning, he turned his attention to the light-crystals that had been set into wall sconces. These were much less complicated and after a moment discerned the simple spell drawing light from the imbedded magic. He found them to be marginally powered, and guessed what magic they held would maintain their light for several days. Made him wonder just where they got them. Then it occurred to him that like himself, Gyomias’ priests had the knowledge of powering crystals and had either brought them when they arrived, or acquired them afterward.
Next came the four books. He could clearly see Gyomias’ symbol embossed upon them so figured them to be either official or religious in nature. Not being able to read them, he set them aside.
Of the two official looking documents, one bore the Gyomias’ symbol, the other did not.
“Well, would you look at that,” he said as he pointed to the bottom of the document not bearing Gyomias’ symbol. For there in clear, bold script was Lord Kinezki’s signature.
“Knew he was a traitor,” Tinok said.
“Could be a pass for movement within the city,” Jiron surmised.
Father Vickor picked it up and looked the document over. “This is written in the Empire’s language. Hikai might be able to read it.” He glanced to James. “I shall see.”
With that, the priest left the Viewing Room with the document.
“We still have one more priest to deal with.”
“He was wounded pretty bad,” Scar said.”
James nodded. “But being a priest, he’ll be okay in no time I’m sure. Not sure how to flush him out before the siege.” He then laid his hand on the bag of crystals. “At least most of his ammunition will not be available to him.”
“He could still cause trouble.”
Glancing to Jiron, James said, “I realize that. We’ll just have to keep our eyes and ears open. He may make a slip.” Another yawn escaped him.
Potbelly laid a hand on his back. “You need sleep.”
“Tell me about it,” James replied. “Been on the go for what seems a very long time.”
He turned his gaze to the viewing table. It sprang to life and an aerial view of Abu Dar appeared. Already, enemy units had begun to arrive and move into position. Ships had set up a blockade outside the harbor. The bulk of the army would not arrive until later that morning; their camp was several hours away. They’ll be on the move at dawn and within spitting distance before noon.
“We’ll keep these items here in the Viewing Room for now. All that could be done before the attack has been done.”
“What about Miko and Azhan?” Scar asked. “Are we going to spring them before the battle?”
James shook his head. “No. I’ll send word to them when it is time to leave the dungeon and where to meet.” He glanced at the others still in the room. “I guess that’s it for now.”
“We’ll need you well rested for battle,” Jiron said.
“I agree. But the priest…”
“Let us worry about him,” Jiron said. “If he’s still in the city, we’ll find him.”
Another yawn broke free and his eyelids were heavy. James nodded. “Don’t let me sleep past the battle.”
Jiron chuckled. “Not likely.”
James slapped him on the back and then headed out of the Viewing Room and to bed.
The others remained.
Jiron turned to them and could see that they were tired, but this priest had to be dealt with and before the onset of battle.
To Scar he asked, “Have anything to take out a priest?”
“Used up the last of our smokers,” he explained. “We do have a poison that will do the trick. Apply it to a dart or add a few drops to some wine and the priest will be useless when it comes to magic.”
“Good.”
“Where should we start to look?”
Jiron turned to Shorty. “They are in tight with Lord Kinezki. I think that if I was him and my base of operations had been destroyed and my comrades killed, I would turn to the only other place of safety I knew.”
“Lord Kinezki?”
Jiron nodded. “Even if he is the dupe he claims, the priest may still think it a safe haven.” To Shorty and Tinok he said, “Find Lord Kinezki’s estate and keep an eye on it.” Then to Scar and Potbelly, “The lord mentioned that they were traders who brought in goods. They might have a warehouse. Find it.”
Scar sighed.
“What?”
Potbelly grinned. “We were just down at the docks.” He turned to Scar. “Boy might help.” When Scar scowled, Potbelly laughed.
Eyeing the two friends for a moment, Jiron said, “Okay, let’s get moving. We don’t have much time and the sun will be up soon.”
The docks were just as deserted as they had been earlier in the evening. Guards still patrolled, the odd local wandered through and slaves were all but nonexistent. One figure, however, sat atop a crate at the edge of the dock behind which a large three-masted sailing ship sat moored.
Boy watched them as they approached, his ever-present grin firmly in place.
Potbelly heard Scar mumbling curses under his breath and worked hard not to crack a grin of his own.
“Quite the fun, tonight.”
That brought them up short.
“What do you mean?” Scar asked, hand straying to his sword hilt.
“Father was much pleased that you took out that rat’s nest.”
“Is he now?”
Boy nodded. “Said he couldn’t be happier now that they are gone.”
“Why?”
Boy shrugged. “He don’t tell me everything.”
“One got away,” Potbelly explained.
“Well,” he said, then glanced to Scar, “no one is perfect I suppose.”
Scar bristled but kept his temper in check.
“We were wondering,” Potbelly quickly interjected before Scar’s temper could get the better of him, “if you might know where he might have gone to ground?”
“Nothing comes to mind.”
“Aren’t you up late?”
He turned back to Scar. “Naw. Sun’s not even up yet.”
Potbelly produced two coppers. “We understand they are working with Lord Kinezki. Anything you could tell us about him?”
Boy bobbed his head and Potbelly passed him the coins.
“He’s a bad one. Very hard on his people and slaves get it the worst.”
“Is he a traitor?”
“Not that I’m aware of. But his reach is long and I heard that the Council will defer to him on occasion.”
“Do you have any idea where Lord Kinezki and these strangers might meet?” Scar asked.
“Now that, I do know.”
When Boy didn’t answer right away, Scar got an edge to his tone and asked, “Well?”
“Lord Kinezki has a tavern that he frequents…” getting a thoughtful look, he added, “But heard that burned down today.”
Rolling his eyes, Scar asked, “Anywhere else?”
“Might be a place. Down by the marketplace. He has a mistress and meets her there. I heard it from a few that the lord has been known to entertain visitors there as well as his strumpet.”
“Can you show us?”
“What’s in it for me?”
Scar spat. “Just gave you two coppers. Should be worth at least that much.”
Producing two more, Potbelly handed them to Boy. He got a scowl from Scar.
“That will work. Thank you, masters.”
Taking the coins, Boy hopped off the crate and headed for the nearest avenue
Scar’s scowl remained in place as he and Potbelly set off to follow.
Boy led them for some time down one street then another before Potbelly realized he had been in this part of Abu Dar recently. When he saw the eatery across from the boarded up building to which he had followed the merchant not so long ago, he knew this had to be the place.
“That’s it,” Boy said, pointing to the manor house.
“Been here before,” Potbelly said to Scar.
He quickly explained how after Azhan came forward to announce he was in Abu Dar to fight the enemy, and then impaled the man, that he had followed one of the enemy priests who at the time posed as a merchant to that boarded up house.
“Looks deserted,” Scar mumbled. He turned to Boy. “Know a way in”
Boy shrugged. “Father said not to bother the place, so no, I don’t.”
“Dawn’s not too far away,” Potbelly observed. “If we are going to go in, we should do it now.”
Scar nodded. “I’ll take the front. See if there’s a door around the back.”
As Potbelly headed for the alley leading to the back, Scar glanced at Boy who stood next to him, that stupid grin annoyingly in place.
“Why don’t you go with him?”
Boy merely shrugged and remained next to Scar.
Cursing, the Pit Master went to the front door. About to take hold of the handle, light flashed briefly through the window next to the door. So briefly in fact that he at first dismissed it. But when it flashed a second time, he knew it had not been his imagination. He left the door and went to the window.
Darkness and shadow were all he saw. He knew he had seen it yet there was nothing now. Then a moment later, he saw light flash briefly from a crack in the floorboards several feet within the room.
