Read Online Mage Hunter Omnibus (Complete 5 Book Series) by Ty Johnston - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ty Johnston
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things won’t last another hour.”
***
The place was little more than rubble by the time the riders got to it. They had watched the smoke from a distance rising up to the heavens like a dying snake curling in upon itself, but the actual sight of the temple’s destruction was enough to shake all of their nerves. Not all were the most devout worshipers of Ashal, but each had spent his life under the church’s thrall and more than respected it.
“ Damn this wizard,” Werner muttered from horseback.
Guthrie glanced aside at the captain. The man’s feelings were understandable. It was unthought of to attack a church and bring harm to the priesthood, the dead robed figures now piled before what had been the entrance to the main building. The temple before them was toppled, but at one point had held a spiraling tower, which Guthrie remembered. It had not been the largest of churches, the region being remote and the local populace not overly large, but still it had served its purposes in tending to those needing physical and spiritual aid, and in spreading the word of Ashal. Now there was nothing here but ashes and broken stone. The fire had burned down to little more than a heated glow, but the smoke continued to wind its way up the bright sky, a field of white stretching beyond in all directions, the local road that brought mendicants and adorers to the temple now covered with snow.
The sergeant shifted his gaze to stare over the destruction and the dead. He had known this place, these men. Guthrie was not a questioning man, nor did he consider himself a strong worshiper, but still, this was his church, not only this particular location but the church in a broader scope. He had been brought up believing in the God Who Had Walked Among Men, the Holy Ashal who had given his life at the end of a noose as an example to all and as the savior of all. Guthrie had never bothered with the hate some held against those who did not believe, but he could feel it niggling away at the back of his thoughts. This before him, it was heresy, sacrilege of the worst sort. You did not attack a man’s religion. It was beyond wrong.
More surprising to Guthrie than the destruction, however, was the faint golden flow that flickered among the dying flames and embers. There was magic here. Whatever the ice witch had done to him still held. To him there was evidence enough magic had been involved in this temple’s doom.
Werner slipped out of his saddle and landed on the cold, hard ground. “No sign of this wizard.”
“ No, sir,” Pindle said as he, too, dropped from his saddle to join his commander.
Werner looked to the man. “Get three men and begin the burials.”
“Yes, sir.” Pindle pointed at three riders who climbed down from their steeds. Soon wooden shovels were retrieved from a small barn off to one side, the building miraculously not destroyed. Digging work then began off to one side next to the flattened remains of what had once been the bishop’s house, the slate roof now laying shattered upon the fallen timber of the structure.
As Guthrie dropped to the ground, the captain came over to him. “I see no signs of marching warriors,” Werner said, motioning toward the landscape.
Guthrie glanced about. “Ours is the only sign of a sizable group.”
“ Makes me think there were no Dartague here,” Werner said.
“ That complies with what your man Amerus told us,” Guthrie said.
“ It makes me wonder.”
“ What?” Guthrie asked.
“ Is this wizard working with the Dartague?” Werner asked. “Or did he simply use the invasion as an opportunity to spread a little vengeance against the church?”
The sergeant shrugged. There was no simple way to answer such questions. Either or both of Werner’s suppositions could be true to some extent or another. The church did not stand for magic, stamping it out in the most brutal fashions whenever magic was found. Because of this, wizards and their like held no
***
The place was little more than rubble by the time the riders got to it. They had watched the smoke from a distance rising up to the heavens like a dying snake curling in upon itself, but the actual sight of the temple’s destruction was enough to shake all of their nerves. Not all were the most devout worshipers of Ashal, but each had spent his life under the church’s thrall and more than respected it.
“ Damn this wizard,” Werner muttered from horseback.
Guthrie glanced aside at the captain. The man’s feelings were understandable. It was unthought of to attack a church and bring harm to the priesthood, the dead robed figures now piled before what had been the entrance to the main building. The temple before them was toppled, but at one point had held a spiraling tower, which Guthrie remembered. It had not been the largest of churches, the region being remote and the local populace not overly large, but still it had served its purposes in tending to those needing physical and spiritual aid, and in spreading the word of Ashal. Now there was nothing here but ashes and broken stone. The fire had burned down to little more than a heated glow, but the smoke continued to wind its way up the bright sky, a field of white stretching beyond in all directions, the local road that brought mendicants and adorers to the temple now covered with snow.
The sergeant shifted his gaze to stare over the destruction and the dead. He had known this place, these men. Guthrie was not a questioning man, nor did he consider himself a strong worshiper, but still, this was his church, not only this particular location but the church in a broader scope. He had been brought up believing in the God Who Had Walked Among Men, the Holy Ashal who had given his life at the end of a noose as an example to all and as the savior of all. Guthrie had never bothered with the hate some held against those who did not believe, but he could feel it niggling away at the back of his thoughts. This before him, it was heresy, sacrilege of the worst sort. You did not attack a man’s religion. It was beyond wrong.
More surprising to Guthrie than the destruction, however, was the faint golden flow that flickered among the dying flames and embers. There was magic here. Whatever the ice witch had done to him still held. To him there was evidence enough magic had been involved in this temple’s doom.
Werner slipped out of his saddle and landed on the cold, hard ground. “No sign of this wizard.”
“ No, sir,” Pindle said as he, too, dropped from his saddle to join his commander.
Werner looked to the man. “Get three men and begin the burials.”
“Yes, sir.” Pindle pointed at three riders who climbed down from their steeds. Soon wooden shovels were retrieved from a small barn off to one side, the building miraculously not destroyed. Digging work then began off to one side next to the flattened remains of what had once been the bishop’s house, the slate roof now laying shattered upon the fallen timber of the structure.
As Guthrie dropped to the ground, the captain came over to him. “I see no signs of marching warriors,” Werner said, motioning toward the landscape.
Guthrie glanced about. “Ours is the only sign of a sizable group.”
“ Makes me think there were no Dartague here,” Werner said.
“ That complies with what your man Amerus told us,” Guthrie said.
“ It makes me wonder.”
“ What?” Guthrie asked.
“ Is this wizard working with the Dartague?” Werner asked. “Or did he simply use the invasion as an opportunity to spread a little vengeance against the church?”
The sergeant shrugged. There was no simple way to answer such questions. Either or both of Werner’s suppositions could be true to some extent or another. The church did not stand for magic, stamping it out in the most brutal fashions whenever magic was found. Because of this, wizards and their like held no
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