Blood Of Kings: The Shadow Mage

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Authors: Paul Freeman
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who have whole orders who practise magic…”
    “Enough! Do not mock the church in my presence,” the priest fumed.
    “You know I speak the truth, Joshan.”
    “Brother Joshan.” The priest regarded him levelly with his grey, cold eyes.
    “Aye, Brother Joshan if you prefer.” Tomas met the stare of the older cleric unflinching.
    “So what will you do?” Brother Joshan asked as Rorbert handed him a steaming cup. He blew gently before sipping from the edge. His face relaxed as the hot liquid worked its magic.
    “I will go to the keep, and I will get her back.”
    “And how do you propose to do this?” the priest asked between hurried sips. “You will simply throw your life away, and the girl will die anyway.”
    “We shall see.”
    “Yes, yes we shall,” the robed cleric answered.
    “I don’t believe I’m hearing this,” Rorbert cut in. “Are you going to allow him to go through with this foolishness?” He turned his eyes on the priest.
    “How do you propose I stop him?”
    “You are a priest,” Rorbert said, as if that alone could halt the raging storm.
    “Perhaps I could call on the All Father to freeze his legs and hold him here trapped until the girl perishes…” Joshan raised one bushy eyebrow as he spoke, his sarcasm not lost on the village elder.
    “You still have your cavalry sabre?” Tomas’ eyes bored into the older man.
    “If you go out to that street you will die. They will cut you down.”
    “Bring me the sword,” the blacksmith insisted.
    “I will not be party to your death.” Rorbert turned to the priest, opening his arms while his face pleaded for assistance.
    “Bring me your sabre or by the All Father I’ll tear this place apart until I find it.”
    “You are a strong man, Tomas, and a skilled hunter, but you are sorely wounded. They will gut you in a heartbeat.”
    “Bring me the sword!” Tomas fumed.
    Rorbert turned to Brother Joshan again, but the cleric simply shrugged. Silence descended leaving the room thick with tension.
    “Very well, throw your life away. Rorbert opened a chest at the back of the house and reverently took out his sheathed weapon and handed it to Tomas.
    The big blacksmith drew a hand-span length of the blade from the leather sheath exposing the polished steel. Rorbert looked on in silence.
    “It all changes from here,” Tomas said looking up from the blade and towards Joshan. The priest regarded him with unreadable eyes.
    “What does?” Rorbert asked.
    “He knows, ask him,” Tomas answered, his eyes still on the cleric. He looked away then and turned to Rorbert. “I was not always a blacksmith, old friend.” He brushed past the confused older man and out onto the street.
    At first nobody noticed him as he walked between the scattered dwellings, then after several double glances people stopped and stared as he calmly made his way towards the blackened shell at the edge of town. As he approached his burnt-out home he drew the sabre, flinging the leather sheath away. Two liveried guards peeled away from the house when they saw him approach. The first died with a smirk still on his face. The second was cut down while he fumbled for his sword. Overhead dark clouds suddenly burst spilling rain onto the heads of the village folk as they looked on in shock as their blacksmith cold-bloodedly slaughtered two of the magistrate’s guards. A clap of thunder rumbled in the darkening sky. In the distance Rorbert watched with his jaw open, uncomprehending at what he’d just witnessed. Beside him the grey-robed priest shook his head sadly.
     

Lorian: The house of Lorian, Alcraz, Sunsai Empire
     
     
     
     
    “M aster, your guest has arrived.” The tall servant bowed low, keeping his eyes from Lorian’s. A grin spread across the fat noble’s fleshy face as he plucked a small, cooked and peeled egg from a silver bowl on a table before his couch. Along with the eggs the table was packed with all manner of savoury treats, steaming bowls of fish

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