Shades of the Past_ Book Six of the Morcyth Saga - Brian S. Pratt [129]
That’s when he realizes many of the bodies lying across the ground are robed mages. What the hell happened? Unable to understand the language, he watches for several more minutes as the survivors scurry around, see to the wounded and stack the dead off to the side.
Other than that one mage, it looks as if all the others were killed in the explosion. Whatever the reason, at least there are now less to deal with when they go for the library. Finally deciding he’s seen all there is to see, he turns his horse back to the desert and hurriedly returns to the others.
Jared’s candle is a beacon in the night and he has little trouble in finding his way back. When he arrives, he tells the others what he saw. “It makes no sense,” he states. “Could there be another mage out there who’s fighting them?”
James shakes his head as a grim expression spreads across his face. “I don’t think so,” he replies. “You said there was a caravan there?”
“That’s right. Mages and wagons…” he begins then suddenly understanding comes. “The wagons!”
Nodding, James says, “The wagons. One must have been doing magic and got too close.”
“What does wagons have to do with it?” Jared asks.
Never having explained to him what he had done and not wanting to now, James says, “It’s complicated and I don’t want to get into it right now.”
Jared glances from Jiron to James knowing he’s the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on. A little hurt at not being trusted, he keeps silent.
“Must have been on their way to strike at you,” suggests Jiron.
“I would think so,” agrees James with a nod. “How many were there?”
“I saw over a dozen lying dead on the ground,” he tells him. “One survived but he was in bad shape.”
James sits and considers all that Jiron has told him. The idea with the wagons is working better than he had anticipated. Only the unexpectedness of the attack could explain the death of the mages. Had they had any warning at all, there would have been fewer killed.
“Blow out the candle and let’s get some sleep,” he says to Jared.
“Don’t you want to get out of here?” Jared asks.
Shaking his head, James says, “No. We need the rest and I don’t like the idea of wandering around this close to enemies in the dark unless I have too. We’ll keep a watch and make an early start.”
Jiron takes the first watch. As James settles into his blankets, he hears the soft tread of Jiron as he moves around the camp. Settling down into his blanket, he tries to relax and eventually falls asleep.
In a room adjacent to the Great Hall, several mages stand around a circular table with a mirrored surface. The master in control of the Table of Sight directs the image as he scans the wreckage. Mages he has known for years, some for decades lie dead. Two, Inyi included, were accounted among the most powerful at the School. And for them to be so easily taken out didn’t bode well.
The door to the room opens as the High Lord Magus enters. Turning to face him, the master wilts slightly under the burning glare of Kerith-Ayxt.
“Inyi’s gone my lord,” the master says with a slight tremor in his voice.
Burning with barely controlled rage, the High Lord Magus says in a voice deceptively calm, “Show me.”
Moving aside, the master makes room for Kerith-Ayxt to view the image. As the master shows his lord the faces of the dead he can feel the rage mounting in him. Finally settling the image on the lone mage who survived the blast he says, “Only Nyz survived.”
“Send riders to bring him back,” he orders. As one of the other mages leaves the room to carry out his orders, Kerith-Ayxt turns to the master in charge of the Table. “Find the mage.”
The master licks his lips in nervousness as he turns his full attention to the Table. Sending magic into the Table, he hunts for the mage but to no avail. The image of the Table shifts and ripples but fails to reveal anything.