The word went out quietly,
furtively, across the continent. The
God of Magic would return! The God of
Magic had sent his Word and his Disciple to give power to the Black Devils, the
power that would enable them to bring their god to life. Pilgrimages had begun from the farthest
reaches of Lanoir to the cold desolation of the Disputed Area. Thousands of Black Devils were leaving their
towns and villages and heading for a session with the Disciple. When the moon was full the meeting would
commence and the Disciple would deliver his instructions. Soon the world would be set right and the
God of Magic would reign forever.
Dalgar was excited. Finally, things would be as they should have
been. Had the Black Devils not been
lax, the god would not have abandoned them.
Now they were being given a second chance and he was not going to
disappoint the god again. Dalgar was prepared to give his life for the return
of the God of Magic and he knew the other Black Devils would as well. Soon now, the entire world would be under
the power of the God of Magic. The
great Disciple, Mordac, had said so.
Dalgar saw streams of men and
women approaching the knoll where Mordac would speak. He pushed his way to the very front of the assembling crowd and
settled his long, lanky frame on a small section of grass. He removed a purple ribbon from his sack and
tied his long, black hair behind his head.
The short young woman next to him was flexing her legs as if she had
been in the same position for some time.
She had beautiful long, flowing, auburn hair that complemented her pale
skin. Dalgar offered her an apple from
his sack. “I guess you’ve been here
quite a while.”
The girl looked over at him. “Yes, three days now. I wanted to get a good spot but you seemed
to have done as well by arriving today.”
She took the apple and bit into it, surveying her neighbor. His bronze skin was not likely to mark him
as Cordonian or even Targan. “You must
be Sordoan. Was the trip difficult for
you?”
“Yes, I’m Sordoan, and no, the
trip was quite pleasant. I’m Dalgar
from Dubar. It’s a small town on the
outskirts of the Great Sordoan Desert.
What about you?”
“I’m Aurora from Paso in
Cordonia. The trip was difficult
because we were warned to avoid the major roads and had to use forest
trails. Still it was fun and quite an
adventure. I passed right through the
area where they said our god chose to leave this world. I hope the Disciple can really bring him
back.”
“I don’t think the Disciple will
bring him back. I think we must all
bring him back. It’s supposed be the
reason for this meeting. We are to be
given a second chance to please Sarac.
If he is pleased he will return and guide us, if not we shall all
perish. I wanted to be up front so that
I can meet Mordac. I wish to be one of
Mordac’s chosen. It is said that
whomever does the most to bring about Sarac’s return will get to join his Inner
Circle.”
“Very aggressive, Dalgar, but I
thought that Sarac’s Inner Circle left with him.”
“That is true, Aurora, but I have
heard that there will be room for new members to join. I will be one of them. You should consider this as well. To be one of Sarac’s Inner Circle is to be
blessed beyond compare.”
“If that is so, there will be
many that wish to join. What makes you
think that you will be chosen, Dalgar?”
“Because, Aurora, I will do
anything to accomplish my goal. Many
around us are weak and only part-time believers. They wish to believe and be honored as long as they don’t have to
do anything that might cause them grief.
I have no such inhibitions. I
am prepared to do what I must to join with Sarac.”
“As shall I, Dalgar. You will have competition in reaching the
Inner Circle.”
“Perhaps, if your devotion is as
strong as you pretend, but it does not have to be a competition. We can help each other gain in Mordac’s
eyes. We may make a good team. Soon we shall see, for here comes Mordac
now.”
Mordac strode up the hillside,
his long, black robe fluttering in the breeze.
His curly brown hair was no longer hidden by his black cap and he
carried a large book. He stood at the
top of the knoll and raised his free arm.
The crowd quieted and everyone awaited Mordac’s words.
Mordac began. “Followers of Sarac, hear me now. I am Mordac, the Disciple of the great God
of Magic. Sarac has spoken to me and he
is angry. The Black Devils have failed
him. They have failed in their faith
and they have failed in their deeds.
Two years ago he called upon the faithful and found them lacking. He decided to leave this world and give you
time to reflect upon your faithlessness.
That time for reflection has ended.
Sarac must now choose whether to return and rule this world or destroy
it and take his faithful few to another world.”
Mordac paused to survey the
crowd. There was over a thousand Black
Devils here, more than enough to accomplish his goal. If he could sway this crowd to his will, Mordac could bring Sarac
back. “The time of waiting is over and
the time of testing shall begin. For
those of you who pass the test, eternal life and power are waiting. For those that fail the test, a slow
lingering death will be your only reward.
The pain of that death will last for hundreds of years and your cries
for an end to it will be met with more pain.
You will have one chance to redeem yourself. Are you ready for this time of testing?”
The crowd leapt to their feet and
shouted acceptance of the challenge.
Mordac allowed them to continue shouting and finally raised his free
hand. When the crowd became quiet,
Mordac continued. “You speak loudly,
but this challenge will require more than words, it will require great
deeds. Sarac has disclosed to me his
requirements for returning to this world.”
Mordac raised the large book he
was carrying into the air and held it up for all to see. “Sarac has told me that the answer to his
return is in a book. He did not tell me
which book contains the answer. How are
we to find this answer? How are we to
guarantee that Sarac is pleased enough to return to us?”
One man stood and shouted, “We
must read. Everyone must read.”
Another stood and questioned,
“How will we know when we have read the right book?”
Murmurs ran through the crowd as followers debated the
solution to Mordac’s challenge. Dalgar pondered Mordac’s words and sought the
solution that would bring attention to himself.
Dalgar grabbed Aurora’s hand and
stood, bringing her to her feet. “We
must own all of the books. We shall
collect every book ever written and bring them here.”
Those around Dalgar laughed and
shouted. They called him crazy and told
him to sit down, but Mordac motioned for the boy to come to him. Dalgar led Aurora to Mordac. Mordac stared at the young man and his
companion and then surveyed the crowd.
He turned to Dalgar and loudly asked, “An admirable suggestion, but the
owners of the books will not want to lose them. How do you plan to get all of these books?”
Dalgar turned to Mordac and said,
“We will take them, and all who get in the way of Sarac’s return must die. We shall not allow fools to have books for
their own pleasure, when we need them for Sarac’s return.”
“And are you two prepared to kill
priests and kings to get these books?”
Aurora answered without
hesitation. “Yes, Disciple, we are
prepared. Sarac will return and we will
have not let him down.”
Mordac laid his book on the
ground and stood between the two Black Devils.
He put a hand on each of their shoulders and addressed his
audience. “This is the spirit that
Sarac is looking for.”
An old woman in the audience
stood and protested. “We cannot just go
around killing priests. We will be
hunted down and killed. The armies of
all the nations will seek to eliminate us.”
Mordac turned and retrieved his
book. “Well, young devotees, what is
your answer to this woman’s questions?”
Dalgar looked at Aurora and smiled. Together they turned to face the old woman and each of them
unleashed a fireball. The old woman disappeared
in a burst of flame, her smoldering flesh all that remained of the
objection. The people around the old
woman scurried away from the devastation. Dalgar addressed the crowd. “We must not let anything stand in our way
this time. This is our only chance to
regain Sarac. Can any of you really
refuse to do that which is necessary?”
Mordac smiled. These two will make a worthy addition to his
staff. There were no further complaints
from the crowd. “There is more to what
Sarac has said. No Black Devil may owe
allegiance to any country. We must
cause strife between nations, pit country against country. In this manner we will allow each country to
lessen its army strength by fighting with its neighbors.”
The young magicians’ demonstration
had been perfect. Had Mordac flamed the
old woman, there might have been grumbling.
Now Mordac knew he had the crowd’s participation. “Well, we need to get started. Let us head to the castle below. Each Black Devil will be assigned a duty to
perform. You must each issue an oath of
allegiance before leaving. Any who try
to leave without uttering the oath will be killed. Not one of you can be allowed to jeopardize the return of
Sarac.” Mordac signaled for the two
young magicians to follow him. “Come
along. I have special plans for the two
of you.”
Egam, the magician, stood in
Oscar’s office admiring the paintings adorning the walls. He appreciated the artist’s skill in
capturing landscapes and Cordonian life.
Obviously, Oscar appreciated it, as well. “Well, Duke Dalek, you have a keen eye for art it seems.”
“Thank you, Egam, but please drop
the formalities. Oscar is fine. We have no audience and I’d like to consider
you a close friend. What brings you to
the city of Dalek?”
“You are a friend, Oscar, and it
is another friend who brings me here. I
wish to journey to a certain island and visit a fine young woman whom you are
acquainted with.”
“You want passage to Atar’s Cove,
then. There is a ship leaving for
Kantor tomorrow. In fact, I will be
aboard myself. I have a strong desire
to add to my art collection. It has
been a long time since I’ve seen Jenneva.
It must be two years since she received the last of the building
materials for her home. I would love to
spend some time with her. Why don’t you
join me for a shopping trip to Kantor and we can both be let off at Atar’s Cove
on the return voyage?”
“My trip will be one way, Oscar,
but I would like a chance to see Kantor again.
What is the name of the artist who has captured your fancy?”
“John Secor,” responded
Oscar. “He’s a displaced Targan living
in Kantor. His father moved there many
years ago as an Ambassador or something and John chose to stay. He is the most talented artist I have seen,
but I admit that his art is not the only thing about John that has captured my
fancy. He has a most beautiful daughter
that I wish to steal. I think Callie
has done more for John’s sales than his abundant skill.”
Egam looked again at Oscar’s
collection of paintings and laughed. “I
had heard that money cannot buy love, but I think I know a young man who enjoys
standing tradition on its ear.”
“Actually, I think my money well
spent on John’s art and my relationship with Callie would last without a
purchase. Did you know that John’s pictures
hang in the finest galleries in Cordonia?
Even the Presidential Palace is loaded with them.”
“That I can believe, Oscar. These paintings are exquisite. Perhaps I will bring Jenneva one to brighten
her home. Are your intentions serious
in regards to this woman?”
“Egam, I know that a secret is
safe with you. I plan to ask for her
hand this trip. I would love for
Jenneva to meet her and I would also like to invite her to the wedding.”
“Well, it’s settled then. I must join you for your trip to Kantor and
then to Atar’s Cove.”
“Yes,” said Oscar. “I will have to change captains though. Raymond is the only one who knows of Atar’s
Cove, so he will have to take the ship tomorrow.”
The springtime voyage was
pleasant. The seas were smooth and the
Targan Current was particularly strong.
The Dalek Shipping Company had its own dock in Kantor and Captain Raymond
Hill had the ship dockside in short order.
A tall, beautiful woman was waiting on the dock. “Oscar, you’re a day early. Father will be so pleased. I saw your dockhands running through the
plaza and knew you were here.”
Oscar and Egam disembarked and
Oscar introduced Callie Secor to Egam.
They proceeded to the plaza where John had a small studio. The plaza’s aroma of beef, spices and
leather gave way to smell of paint and thinners as they entered the
studio. John was a sturdy man and
resembled a sailor more than an artist.
His thick, hairy arms were just hanging a picture on the wall as they
entered. John was surprised to see
Oscar and nearly dropped the painting he was hanging. “Oscar, you old sea dog, you should keep to your schedules or
you’ll cost me an embarrassment,” he laughed.
“That painting is our President Suarez and I’m due to present it
tonight. Ah, I’m glad to see you early,
though. Callie, see if you can grab a
courier in the plaza, I want to send a message to the Palace. Come on in, Oscar, and introduce your
friend. I have tea on in the back.”
The three men went into the back
of the studio and Oscar introduced Egam as an old friend and associate. John hurriedly scribbled a note and handed
it to Callie who had caught the attention of a courier. “I hope you won’t mind having dinner with
the President this evening. As I said,
I have to deliver this portrait and he has invited Callie and myself to dine
with him. I’ve asked him to include
Duke Dalek and his associate and I’m sure he’ll agree. Your visits have become more frequent and
yet the other member of my family feels that you are absent too often. Why don’t you take a stroll with Callie and
I’ll get to know Egam better.”
Oscar went into the studio
gallery where Callie was just dismissing the courier. “So, I’m gone too often, am I?” he smirked.
“Certainly, you are!” Callie embraced Oscar and dragged him into
the plaza. “Come on, let’s go for a
walk. I imagine that father is getting
you invited to the Palace this evening.
I’m sure the President will want to meet the man who is buying all of my
father’s art. You’re making his works a
rarity in Kantor.”
“Your father creates things of
beauty. His painting is not bad,
either,” Oscar chuckled.
“Oh, you sailors are all alike,”
she retorted. “You probably have a
woman in every port.”
Oscar stopped walking and held
Callie. “Callie, don’t even joke like
that. I love only you. As a matter of fact, I have something very
important to discuss with you. It’s,
well, I really want to tell you, I mean . . .
I want to know if . . . ”
Callie laughed. “This is Oscar Dalek, the man who could sell
sand to the Sordoans?” Her face went
into a mock expression of seriousness.
“Yes, Duke Dalek, the terms of this contract look fairly reasonable. I
think I could find it possible to consider doing business with your firm.” Oscar was turning red and sporting a hurt
look upon his face and Callie relented.
“Of course I’ll marry you, Oscar, and if you give me a kiss I won’t even
make you finish asking.”
Oscar laughed and hugged Callie
so hard he lifted her off her feet.
“There’s still your father, Callie.”
Callie giggled. “Father is perhaps the most impatient of
all. I believe he may have already
spoken to the President about performing the service.”
They hurried back to the studio
to spread the good news. John opened a
bottle of wine to toast the young couple and a courier arrived with the
President’s response -- four were expected for dinner.
The Presidential Palace was a
large, white stone mansion on a spreading estate. An ornate carriage had been dispatched to pick up the dinner
guests. Callie looked stunning in a
lovely, yellow gown with her long, brown hair sporting a matching yellow
ribbon. Oscar spent the entire ride to
the Palace staring at her.
President Suarez and his wife
were in a receiving parlor when the party arrived. John made the introductions and presented his painting. The President had the painting hung over the
fireplace. Oscar marveled at the
incredible likeness of the painting to the actual President. The black, wavy hair was parted in exactly
the same spot. The long black mustache
ended precisely where it should. The
green eyes were so lifelike that he felt like the portrait was actually looking
at him. Oscar knew that the painting
was done from memory. The President may
have sat for a sketch, but he certainly did not have the time to sit for the
entire painting. John seemed to have
the ability to recall vivid images that he had seen previously.
The dinner was very informal and
Oscar was impressed with the President’s ability to keep the conversation
moving. Oscar’s magic ring let him know
that the President was prone to exaggeration.
The stories he told were true enough, but the numbers quoted or
reactions to events were stretched in proportion to reality. John happily announced the engagement of
Oscar and Callie and the President offered a toast.
“You shall have the
congratulations of the entire nation,” said President Suarez. “Does this mean that Kantor is to become the
home of Duke Dalek of Targa?”
“I do intend to have a fine home
built here in Kantor,” answered Oscar.
“I will, of course, still maintain my homes in Dalek and Bordon. I imagine Callie and I will spend time in
each depending on the needs of my business.
I hope that John will live in our Kantor home and use it as his own.”
“I offer whatever help the
Republic of Cordonia can give in finding a site for your home, Oscar. The Secor family is fondly thought of here
and I am happy to add your name to the list of their members. When will the wedding be?”
“The wedding will have to wait at
least two weeks. I would never be
forgiven if we married without my mother here as a witness. Callie and I will leave tomorrow by ship for
Dalek. Hopefully, we shall return with
Duke Whitley and my mother on the return voyage. John told me that you would be gracious enough to perform the
service. Would your schedule permit a
small wedding in two weeks time?”
“If not,” President Suarez
laughed, “I’ll change my schedule. I
can’t promise a small celebration, though.
John Secor is a bit of a celebrity here in Kantor and the marriage of
his daughter will bring many requests for admittance.”
The rest of the dinner was spent
in pleasant small talk and soon it was time to leave. They returned to John’s studio and Callie went off to pack a
travel bag. Egam roamed the studio
looking for a suitable painting for Jenneva.
He finally settled on a picture of Kantor’s harbor from the edge of the
marketplace. The picture sported one of
Dalek’s ships approaching the dock.
When Egam went to pay John for the picture, John waved him away.
“No, Egam,” John stated, “Oscar has
already made me a very wealthy man.
Please take it with my compliments.
I cannot afford to give my paintings to Oscar for he is my largest
customer. I can, however, give one to
his friend and my friend too.”
The next morning, John escorted
his daughter to the ship and waved goodbye.
The weather was pleasant and everyone spent the days on deck. Egam spent a lot of time with Callie and got
to know her well.
Far to the east in the town of
Paso, three black clad figures hid in the bushes not far from the wall of the
Temple of Dori, goddess of soil. The
night was moonless and the townspeople were sleeping. One of the black clad figures detached from the shadows and leapt
at the wall. He hoisted himself to the
top with a cat-like grace and peered into the courtyard below. He signaled for the others to follow and
soundlessly jumped into the courtyard.
The only light visible was from a candle near a second story
window.
The first figure extracted a
long, thin piece of metal from his clothing and went to work on the rear door
of the temple. The board holding the
door shut hit the floor with a loud thud and the figures froze. Hurried footsteps could be heard approaching
the door from the inside and the black figures melded with the shadows. An elderly priest flung the door open. He looked around the courtyard in confusion. He stepped through the doorway for a better
look and one of the shadows stepped forward and seized him from behind, slicing
his throat with a small, sharpened dagger.
The shadow propped the body against the wall and crept into the
temple. Down the corridor was an open
doorway with candlelight flickering patterns on the floor of the hallway. The shadows crept down the hall and peered
into the room. The room was deserted
and the black figures stealthily approached the staircase.
Aurora knew that the temple’s
acolytes lived in a building alongside the temple. There should have been no one in the temple except a priest to
guard the library. The other priest
must have had some unfinished work to be in the temple at night. She followed Dalgar and the other Black
Devil up the stairs. The three figures
stood in an alcove outside the doorway to the library, barely breathing.
Aurora stripped off her garments,
knocked on the door and stepped back five paces. The priest opened the door and peered into the hall. The candlelight flickered off Aurora’s pale,
naked skin and the priest was speechless and confused. He took a couple of steps forward and shook
his head as if trying to clear his vision.
Dalgar wasted no time. He
stepped out of the alcove and looped a thin metal wire around the priest’s
neck. He viciously tightened the wire
and the priest frantically tried to claw at the restriction around his
throat. In just moments the priest’s
struggles ceased and Dalgar lowered the body to the floor. Aurora hastily dressed and dragged the body
into the library.
The library was small and the
three Black Devils would have no problem emptying it long before morning. They carried the books downstairs and out
the rear gate of the temple’s courtyard.
Through the bushes they had a cart waiting in a clearing. It took many trips to completely strip the
library and Dalgar made a mental note to have more Black Devils available for
the larger libraries.
Dalgar dragged the first priest’s
body into the room he had been working in.
He searched the room for more books.
Aurora’s knowledge of the layout of this temple was very helpful in
assuring the success of the raid. He
pondered how they could get information on other temples while he closed the
back door to the building.
He secured the gate to the
courtyard and scampered over the wall.
When he arrived at the cart, Aurora and the other Black Devil were
covering the books with the hay that was originally in the wagon. He jumped up on the wagon and started the
horses moving.
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