Read Online Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two by Brian S. Pratt - Free Book Online Page A

surprise, there were quite a few who didn’t have
any sort of concealment at all.
    Father Tullin took his arm. “Stay
close so we don’t get separated.”
    “And keep a firm hand on your coin
pouch,” Jiron added. “Though thieves are dealt with harshly in the
Pit, often forced to face the greenest of fighters, thefts do
happen from time to time.”
    “Thanks, I’ll keep that in
mind.”
    The actual Pit in which the fights
take place was at the center of the room. A bandstand of sorts
encircled the fighting area with six rows of benches. From three
satellite rooms branching off from this one came the aroma of
roasting beef and fresh baked bread. Scar and Potbelly really knew
how to bilk their customers for all they were worth. James wondered
if the previous Master of the Pit had been as devious.
    “I tell you he has never been
beaten!”
    “Bah! Tinok will hand him his liver in
the first five minutes.”
    While Father Tullin paused to converse
with a man in a dark hood that hid all but the tip of his nose and
the fact that there were piercing blue eyes beneath, James turned
his attention to an argument unfolding nearby.
    A helmed man, dressed as a guard with
black bands encompassing where his employer’s insignia would be,
stood toe-to-toe with another in a bright orange robe with a mask
comprised almost entirely of feathers.
    “They say no man has ever lasted more
than five minutes against him,” Helmed Man asserted.
    “And I tell you, there is no one able
to withstand Tinok’s knives,” Feather Mask argued. “He’ll have this
newcomer sliced and diced before sustaining a single
blow.”
    “Five golds say you’re
wrong!”
    “Ten!”
    “Done!”
    Similar conversations were in progress
throughout the viewing area. Jiron took James by the arm and worked
them closer to the edge. Already, the railing had filled to
capacity, but Jiron managed to shove aside a smaller man dressed in
a brown cloak wearing a rat-head mask to make room. The man looked
ready to say something, but backed down upon realizing Jiron was
not alone.
    Indicating two doors on either side of
the pit below, Jiron said, “Tinok and his opponent will emerge from
opposite sides. They will pause and size up each other while the
particulars of the match are announced, then the fight will
commence.”
    “Bring back memories?”
    Jiron nodded. “I miss it, though I
would never tell my wife that.”
    Chuckling, James slapped his friend on
the back.
    The pit itself had a diameter of
roughly fifty feet with an earthen floor. A wall seven feet tall
with the railing at the edge adding another three feet, prevented
any combatant to flee before the match was over. The floor was
earthen and looked to have been recently raked smooth. To James,
the place felt like the Roman Coliseum, but in
miniature.
    “How soon before it
begins?”
    Jiron shrugged. “It will when it does.
Though judging by how crowded the place has become, they won’t want
to hold off much longer.” He glanced to James. “Keeping important
patrons waiting is bad for business.”
    “I understand that,” James
said.
    Off to their left, Father Tullin
conversed with three men in various stages of disguise. The way
people gravitated to the priest led James to believe that he must
be a favorite among them.
    James sought faces in the sea of masks
and hoods, not for any real desire to see who was there, but for
something to do while waiting for the match to start. The
expressions encountered ranged from excited to solemn. His gaze
continued in a slow sweep until something about a man from the
Empire registered familiarity. It took him a moment to recall the
memory, and when he did, his eyes narrowed.
    Nudging Jiron with his elbow, he
surreptitiously pointed across to the man. “Isn’t he the one we saw
Tinok with earlier?”
    Jiron saw the man standing with two
fellows and nodded. “Yes, it is.” He remembered very well seeing
this man walking with Tinok when they had sought his