Death Mages Ascent: Revised Edition (Death Mage Series Book 1) (16 page)

              “What was that? You should not have been able to that.”

              “Do what? What happened?” Jaxom asked. The whole experience had felt so natural.

              “You drew in my power. I could feel my energy joining yours, like you were draining it away. If it had been my lifeforce, it would almost feel like dying,” he said, his voice shaking. Darian stood.

              “Other mages can’t do this?” Jaxom asked.

              “No mages that I have ever heard of. What did it feel like for you?”

              “Amazing… It was more power than I have ever held before. I felt like I could cast twice as much with it,” Jaxom said. Then it hit him like a charging horse. This could be why other schools feared death mages and persecuted them. “Please do not tell the other mages about this.”

              Darian looked at him, considering. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right. Serin and the others would not receive this news well. But I do think we should try again. Imagine what you could do if you cast using my power as well as yours,” Darian said

              Jaxom had been thinking the same, and he was glad the ice mage wanted to try again. They parted ways then with a promise to meet again when Darian’s duties allowed for it. Walking back to his tent, Jaxom thought about what had happened and the potential ramifications of joining their power. He wished he could speak to Alimar. He remembered the other death mage’s bindings, which had held Jaxom’s magic in check. Did the man know what they were capable of? Or did he not realize the full potential of that cast? Jaxom would need to broach that subject carefully with Alimar until he really knew whose side the other death mage was on.

Chapter 20

              Da’san approached the front gate to the palace where four of the Guard stood watching the dense foot traffic on the street. They tensed at his approach but made no overt move towards their weapons. He understood their apprehension. When he had returned to the temple, his brothers had filled him in about recent events. People had begun disappearing all over the city shortly after Jaxom’s party had left for the Teriken Forest. Rumors spoke of dark priests converting citizens, and if they refused to worship, they were never seen again. So far, the Guard had failed to find those responsible, and the tension within the walls of the city had grown palpable.

              The temples, not only Sarinsha’s, but those devoted to other gods as well, had been attempting to flush out this new religion. Even with their nearness to the common people, they had no more success than the Guard. Da’san himself had gone out the past two nights in search of signs of these dark priests but had found only scared people afraid to leave their homes. The second night, he had thought he was being followed and had waited in a dark alley to allow his pursuers a perfect opportunity to take him, but something must have changed their minds. Those following him may have been simple cut purses.

              “Priest Da’san to see Captain Cribble,” he said standing in front of the gate guards.

              “On what business?”

              “Tell him that I have some information for him on the matter we discovered up north. He will know what it means.”

              The guard who had spoken looked over his shoulder to another and nodded approval. Sometime later, he returned and told Da’san that the captain would meet him in his office. The guard led him through the gates and into the palace barracks. After several turns, they arrived at a plain wooden door where his escort knocked. A yell to enter issued from the other side, and Da’san walked into a well-lit room with a sturdy desk at its center.

              Cribble sat behind the desk wearing his chainmail. He sat silently, watching, until Da’san closed the door firmly behind him. “Da’san. I was not expecting to see you so soon.” Cribble said.

              “I was wondering what information you have on the disappearances.”

              Cribble leaned back and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Not much, unfortunately. We have counted over a hundred of them, but that doesn’t include unreported cases. Some of the men have noticed that there are fewer beggars about the streets, especially in the poorer areas of the city. Whoever is doing this may be targeting people who won’t be missed. Why? What do you know about it?”

              “There are rumors among the churches that dark priests are responsible. I think we have to assume that Or’Keer is trying to establish a foothold in Ale’adar,” Da’san said.

              “That is unlikely. The Guard would have heard of something about that,” Cribble said, waving a hand dismissively.

              “Not necessarily,” Da’san said. “The poorer people do not trust in the Guard as they do the Temples. We hear things that you may not,” Da’san said. Cribble nodded. The poorer class would not often speak to the authorities for fear of retribution from the street gangs or more disreputable guilds. They would, however, seek guidance from the priests.

              “So what do you propose? I could increase patrols and conduct random searches, but that has never been effective in the past,” Cribble said.

              “I do not think we should tip our hand that we are aware that it is Or’Keer. We need to capture one of his priests,” Da’san said. He described his original plan.

              Cribble laughed. “What were you wearing when you went on these little excursions?” he asked.

              Da’san looked down at his blue robes. The priests of Sarinsha had few personal possessions and no other clothing. If the kidnappers were targeting those who would not be missed, Da’san’s robes would make him unattractive prey. His realization must have been evident on his face because Cribble started laughing again.

              “It was a good plan, but I do not think you are suited to matters of subversion. I will assign some men to go out in civilian clothes to attempt to capture the kidnappers…”

              “No,” Da’san said cutting him off. “We do not know if any among the Guard have been influenced. It should be me, you, and Jerup.”

              Cribble scowled at the suggestion that any of the Guard could be worshipers of Or’Keer, but he nodded his head in agreement. “Very well. Jerup is off duty right now. I’ll give you his address. We’ll meet at a tavern called the Twisted Mug after dark. Make sure you get some different clothes.” The captain scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Da’san. “Tell him not to bring his sword. We don’t want to scare anyone,” he said with a smile.

              Da’san made his way through the city, passing people who kept their heads down and hurried by. The feel of the streets was one of quiet fear, as if everyone expected to be suddenly attacked and dragged away. Jerup lived in an area of the city populated by successful merchants and traders. The simple stone house was well maintained with new white paint on the door and shutters.

              His knock was answered by a middle-aged woman with long black hair tied up in a bun. Her soft brown eyes and warm smile greeted him with openness. “Can I help you?” she asked.

              “I am looking for Guardsman Jerup,” Da’san replied.

              “Who are you?” she asked.

              “I am Da’san of the Sarinsha temple,” he replied and was startled when she grabbed him in a hug.

              “Jerup has told me about you,” she said, releasing him. “He told me about all of you. I am so glad you decided to visit us. Please come in, come in” she said. Her smile growing bigger as she gestured.

              “Thank you,” he said, stepping into the house.

              “Honey, one of your friends is here to see you,” she yelled into the house. Da’san cringed slightly at the power of her voice.

              “Which friend?” Jerup called back before stepping out of a side room. Walking over, he offered his hand and shook Da’san’s firmly. “Glad you decided to take me up on my offer. You will not be disappointed. Eleanor is the finest cook in the city.” His wife tried to shush him from behind, but Jerup ignored her modesty.

“Sadly, that is not the only reason I came.”

“Oh?” Jerup said. “I am afraid we have some lingering business from the north.” Jerup’s face grew serious. “If you will excuse us, my dear, I think our young priest has much to tell me.”

“Of course,” she said lightly. As she walked by, Jerup pinched her bottom.

Whipping around, she slapped him hard on the shoulder, her face bright red from embarrassment. “Not when we have company,” she said. Jerup laughed, and she slapped his shoulder again while giving Da’san a smile of an apology. “I am sorry for my husband’s crude manner. He is not fit to be around decent people like you.”

While she was talking, Da’san gave Jerup a pinch on the rear of his own. He jumped from the floor in shock, rubbing at the spot and staring at Da’san in amazement. “Do not worry, my lady. Perhaps, with Sarinsha’s help, I can teach him some humility,” he said smiling.

Eleanor laughed at her husband’s discomfort. “If you can do that, I would forever be in your debt, but I do not think even Sarinsha could teach this one humility,” she said then left them alone in the small hallway.

“Follow me,” Jerup said grumpily, still rubbing his backside. He led Da’san into a room with three cushioned chairs and a bookshelf filled with books. Picking up an open book he must have been reading from one of the seats, Jerup sat down and indicated Da’san should do the same.

Da’san told him everything he had told Cribble about the disappearances and his suspicion that Or’Keer was ultimately responsible for them. He also relayed Cribble’s instructions that they meet at the Twisted Mug, unarmed. Jerup clearly disapproved, but he nodded his understanding.

“Dark is still some hours off, so we have time to eat before we go. You will need some other clothes,” Jerup said.

Da’san looked down at his simple blues robes. “Yes, I suppose I will have to find a tailor.”

“No need. I have some that you can borrow for tonight. They may be a bit big on you, but they should do for one night,” Jerup replied.

Da’san looked at Jerup appraisingly. “I think they will be more than a bit big, my friend.”

“You could always pray for larger muscles,” Jerup replied with a grin. “Perhaps, but Sarinsha wishes her followers to use their heads for something other than smashing down doors,” Da’san said without missing a beat.

Jerup stroked his black beard with a hand. “Bah, you priests are too smart for your own good. Let us go see if we can’t find you something suitable.”

A little while later, Da’san emerged wearing a pair of simple brown pants and a white shirt, with a long dagger belted at his side. He had not wanted to accept the blade without knowing how to use it, but Jerup had explained that no one walked into a tavern without some kind of protection. The small weight felt awkward on his hip.

              They spent the rest of the afternoon around Jerup’s table enjoying Eleanor’s fine cooking. The Guardsman had not overestimated his wife’s abilities. Da’san had never had such flavorful roast duck before in his life. Being a follower of Sarinsha herself, Eleanor had asked him to give a blessing before they ate. Happy to oblige, Da’san prayed to Sarinsha to protect the family when they were in need. Feeling the warmth of his goddess flood through him, he knew that she had heard and accepted the request. Jerup’s two children, the boy Arrin who was nine and the girl Mela who was twelve, peppered him with questions ranging from what it was like talking to a god to how their daddy had killed monsters in the forest. Da’san answered all of them as best he could before their mother quieted them to let their guest eat in peace. By the time the table had been cleared and the children sent off to play, the sun had set outside the window. Jerup kissed his wife goodbye, and she hugged him for a long time. Da’san marveled at her strength. She had married Jerup knowing that his job put him in danger, and that one night he might not come back. Still, she had vowed to love him. Da’san thought she could match any soldier for bravery.

              Outside, the streets were quickly emptying of people. Jerup led them to the tavern where they found Cribble. Dressed in plain clothing sitting at a table to the side, he was rolling some dice in front of him while sipping from a mug. Jerup walked up to the man and placed a coin purse on the table.

              “Care for a game, friend?” Jerup asked.

              “If you don’t mind losing your money,” Cribble grumbled.

              They sat at the table, and Jerup ordered two more drinks for them. When the drinks arrived, the young woman placed a mug in front of Da’san, but he merely eyed it.              “Drink it,” Jerup said under his breath. Deciding that violating the oath this one time served the greater purpose, he brought the mug to his lips. When he tasted only water, he started with surprise, spilling some on the table.

              “Forgive my friend,” Jerup said to Cribble. “He’s not much of a drinker.”

              “Speak for yourself,” Da’san said, taking a gulp of the water. “I can drink you under the table any day of the week,” he said imitating what he had heard at other such places.

              “You two talk too much. Are we gonna play, or what?”

              Jerup pulled four coppers from the purse and placed them on the table. Cribble matched the bet and rolled the dice. The two men played the game as more mugs of water arrived, but his friends seemed to be speaking with increased volume and slurring their words as the hours passed. Having no real experiences with drinking, Da’san chose to remain quiet and simply try to appear as if he was affected as well. His two friends continued to argue back and forth, swapping banter and insults until Cribble slammed his palms on the table.

              “I have had enough of your cheating,” Cribble said. Standing quickly from the table, he pretended to almost fall over.

              “No one has cheated you, friend. This is simply not your game,” Jerup replied, slurring his words.

              Cribble grabbed up his coin purse and dice and headed for the door. Da’san moved to follow him, but Jerup placed a hand on his leg, stopping him. Not long after, four men stood from their table and left as well.

              “All right, let’s go,” Jerup said.

              Leaving the Twisted Mug, Da’san felt the cool night air on his skin. The dim light of the quarter moon and the spaced oil lamps along the streets allowed for some sight in the darkness. The four men who had followed Cribble out of the Tavern were still behind him as he stumbled along. He and Jerup kept pace with the pursuers, but hung back to avoid discovery. Cribble turned down an alley, and the four quickened their pace, forcing the friends into a jog to keep up. By the time they rounded the same corner, the men had caught Cribble, two of them holding tightly to each of his arms. Cribble fought back, struggling to free himself, and received several hits to the face and stomach before he gave up. Da’san started forward to help, but Jerup stopped him.