Ocean Of Fear (Book 6) Read Free Page B

belief. An archmage would struggle to do such a thing and, thank the Light, there are few of those in this world. If this being is as powerful as those poor people implied I fear even you, with your formidable blade and your formidable talents, might struggle to overcome it. And it is the servant...”
    “Is it?” Kormak said.
    “Ah, now that is an interesting question,” said Frater Jonas. “Perhaps the man we are pursuing is not the one we want at all. Perhaps it is this Black Priest, although I suspect priest is very much the wrong word to describe him.”
    Kormak studied the priest. He was taking all of this rather too well. Most priests would have been filled with righteous fury or simple terror at the thought of what the Kraken and his companion had done. “You may be right,” Kormak said.
    Frater Jonas made a small grimace that might have been a smile.
    “Blessings of the Light upon you, brother,” he said then he bowed and made the Sign of the Sun before he walked away.

CHAPTER THREE

    “I NOTICE YOU were chatting with our ship’s chaplain earlier,” said Captain Zamara. He used his handkerchief to wave away the cloud of midges that floated above the river in the early evening light. Kormak wondered if he should be flattered at the captain descending from the command deck to speak with him.
    “I suspect he is more than the ship’s chaplain.” Kormak said.
    “You are a perceptive man.” There was just the faintest hint of irony in the captain’s voice. Zamara walked over to the man checking the plumb-line. He counted to himself, making sure the sailor was doing his job correctly. He walked back over to Kormak, leaned against the deck rail and said, “Frater Jonas is a spy and something more, I think. He has a reputation at court for being an expert on occult matters.”
    “You think he is a sorcerer?”
    “The good Frater was an inquisitor before he took up his position as spiritual advisor at the Imperial Palace. He hunted witches and burned malefactors.”
    Kormak nodded. Perhaps it was not just Jonas’s accent that made Zamara dislike him. Inquisitors were feared. In Siderea, even the mightiest might be brought down by an accusation of witchcraft.
    Zamara said, “He was assigned to me as fleet-chaplain just before we departed on this mission. He had been with us only a few days longer than you have.”
    “As chaplain? Not as an inquisitor?”
    “Exactly so.”
    “From the Palace Imperial to the under-decks of a warship in a few days. That is a big change.”
    Zamara’s lips quirked into a humourless smile. “Perhaps he has displeased his superiors. Or the King-Emperor.”
    “Or perhaps there is another reason,” said Kormak.
    “Perhaps. Rumour has it that our Frater Jonas reports only to the head of his Order and the King-Emperor himself. His Order has tentacles everywhere. The tip concerning the Kraken’s course and heading came from their agents.”
    Kormak considered this but said nothing.
    Zamara remained quiet for a few heartbeats then said, “I disliked having him aboard as much as I disliked having you foisted on me. I confess that since hearing that boy’s tale of demons I am rather glad you are both here. Cold steel, wild seas and decks awash with gore I do not mind. Sorcery sets my blood to freezing and this Black Priest... I like not the sound of him at all.”
    Zamara fell silent and stared out into the gathering gloom. He seemed to making some form of judgement as he watched the waters of the river flow sluggishly by. He nodded to himself, said something to the man with the plumb-line and said, “Good evening, Sir Kormak.”
    The captain withdrew to the sterncastle, wrapped himself in his cloak and took a seat in the great wooden chair beside the steersman’s wheel. As Kormak watched, Terves brought him a cup of hot wine.
    Kormak put his back against the guard-rail and closed his eyes. The day had given him much to think about and it was time to take his rest.

    A