Read Online Tides of Faith: Travail of The Dark Mage Book Two by Brian S. Pratt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian S. Pratt
Tags: moral, Family, Magic, War, Thieves, friends, struggle, fighter, gods, mage, sword, quest, medieval action fantasy, Role playing, dungeon, rpg, swordsman, magic user
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whereabouts
before.
“Wonder what he’s doing
here?”
Jiron glanced sidelong at his friend
and shook his head.
James turned toward Father Tullin and
caught the priest’s attention with a wave and motioned for him to
join them.
Breaking off his conversation, Father
Tullin was soon at their side. “Sorry about that. Everyone seems
desirous in entering into discourse this evening.”
“Not a problem,” James assured him,
then directed his gaze to the man across the pit. “Have you ever
seen that man before?”
Following the discreet gesture, the
priest sought the man in question. “Which one?”
“The unmasked fellow from the
Empire.”
Father Tullin shook his head. “No.
Can’t say that I have.”
Keeping his voice low, Jiron said,
“He’s been in Tinok’s company of late.”
“He has?”
James nodded. “I don’t suppose you
could wander over there and find out who he is?”
Slapping him on the back, Father
Tullin said, “I can but try.”
While the priest worked his way
through the crowd and the number of people who were, as he said,
“desirous of discourse,” James and Jiron kept a surreptitious watch
on the man and those he stood with. When James happened to glance
toward the priest, found him to be mired in a conversation with two
people in hoods. “I guess there’s no hurry.”
Jiron saw the priest’s predicament.
“No, there isn’t.”
The sudden sound of bolts being thrown
and the subsequent creaking of poorly kept hinges announced the
match was soon to begin. Within the pit, the doors on either side
swung open.
Chapter Five
Out of the door to the right strode a
figure familiar to many. Shorter than average, two knives on his
belt, and stripped down to nothing more than a pair of pantaloons,
Tinok emerged onto the sand. Flanking him were two men bearing
fancy, filigreed halberds suited more for ceremony than
war.
From the opposite side of the pit
emerged a man easily a head taller and twice as muscled as Tinok.
His head was shaved but for a shoulder-length ponytail of the
darkest black. Tattoos wreathed his topknot and cascaded like a
dirty river down his bare back. Dressed in naught but pantaloons
just like his opponent, the man’s muscular physique was clear to
all. In his hands, he held a very long, two-handed
sword.
Cheers erupted throughout the
onlookers, some shouting Tinok’s name, while others hollered for
the newcomer. James was curious to discover that the man across the
way did not participate in the enthusiastic display. His mood
appeared more somber than the occasion warranted.
Another man emerged into the pit from
the wall directly beneath where James and Jiron stood. Arrayed in
armor with a sword at his side, the man made an imposing sight.
James figured him to be one of Scar and Potbelly’s pit fighters. As
he strode toward the center of the pit, conversations quieted until
by the time he came to a stop, all talking had ceased.
The man looked upward to those ringing
the pit. Turning clockwise, he swept the onlookers with his gaze.
Coming full circle, he raised his hands.
“Welcome… to the
Pit !”
Applause, shouts, and other
gesticulations met his declaration. He allowed it to continue for a
few moments before waving for silence.
“Tonight, we have the privilege of
presenting two combatants of legendary prowess.” He turned and
gestured toward Tinok. “The skill of the first is known by many.
Two blades, one man, and death is his hallmark. I present to you,
Tinok!”
As Tinok strode forward two steps, a
roar surged from the onlookers as a hundred voices cried their
adulation. Tinok was quite obviously a favorite. The sound was
deafening. Raising his hands, the man in the pit subdued their
exuberance. He then turned to face Tinok’s opponent.
“From charnel houses deep
within the Empire, comes a man steeped in death. None who have
faced him have survived. Merciless, heartless, and soulless ; I give you
Aknor, Warrior
before.
“Wonder what he’s doing
here?”
Jiron glanced sidelong at his friend
and shook his head.
James turned toward Father Tullin and
caught the priest’s attention with a wave and motioned for him to
join them.
Breaking off his conversation, Father
Tullin was soon at their side. “Sorry about that. Everyone seems
desirous in entering into discourse this evening.”
“Not a problem,” James assured him,
then directed his gaze to the man across the pit. “Have you ever
seen that man before?”
Following the discreet gesture, the
priest sought the man in question. “Which one?”
“The unmasked fellow from the
Empire.”
Father Tullin shook his head. “No.
Can’t say that I have.”
Keeping his voice low, Jiron said,
“He’s been in Tinok’s company of late.”
“He has?”
James nodded. “I don’t suppose you
could wander over there and find out who he is?”
Slapping him on the back, Father
Tullin said, “I can but try.”
While the priest worked his way
through the crowd and the number of people who were, as he said,
“desirous of discourse,” James and Jiron kept a surreptitious watch
on the man and those he stood with. When James happened to glance
toward the priest, found him to be mired in a conversation with two
people in hoods. “I guess there’s no hurry.”
Jiron saw the priest’s predicament.
“No, there isn’t.”
The sudden sound of bolts being thrown
and the subsequent creaking of poorly kept hinges announced the
match was soon to begin. Within the pit, the doors on either side
swung open.
Chapter Five
Out of the door to the right strode a
figure familiar to many. Shorter than average, two knives on his
belt, and stripped down to nothing more than a pair of pantaloons,
Tinok emerged onto the sand. Flanking him were two men bearing
fancy, filigreed halberds suited more for ceremony than
war.
From the opposite side of the pit
emerged a man easily a head taller and twice as muscled as Tinok.
His head was shaved but for a shoulder-length ponytail of the
darkest black. Tattoos wreathed his topknot and cascaded like a
dirty river down his bare back. Dressed in naught but pantaloons
just like his opponent, the man’s muscular physique was clear to
all. In his hands, he held a very long, two-handed
sword.
Cheers erupted throughout the
onlookers, some shouting Tinok’s name, while others hollered for
the newcomer. James was curious to discover that the man across the
way did not participate in the enthusiastic display. His mood
appeared more somber than the occasion warranted.
Another man emerged into the pit from
the wall directly beneath where James and Jiron stood. Arrayed in
armor with a sword at his side, the man made an imposing sight.
James figured him to be one of Scar and Potbelly’s pit fighters. As
he strode toward the center of the pit, conversations quieted until
by the time he came to a stop, all talking had ceased.
The man looked upward to those ringing
the pit. Turning clockwise, he swept the onlookers with his gaze.
Coming full circle, he raised his hands.
“Welcome… to the
Pit !”
Applause, shouts, and other
gesticulations met his declaration. He allowed it to continue for a
few moments before waving for silence.
“Tonight, we have the privilege of
presenting two combatants of legendary prowess.” He turned and
gestured toward Tinok. “The skill of the first is known by many.
Two blades, one man, and death is his hallmark. I present to you,
Tinok!”
As Tinok strode forward two steps, a
roar surged from the onlookers as a hundred voices cried their
adulation. Tinok was quite obviously a favorite. The sound was
deafening. Raising his hands, the man in the pit subdued their
exuberance. He then turned to face Tinok’s opponent.
“From charnel houses deep
within the Empire, comes a man steeped in death. None who have
faced him have survived. Merciless, heartless, and soulless ; I give you
Aknor, Warrior
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