World's First Wizard Complete Series Boxed Set by Schneider Aaron D. & Anderle Michael

Author:Schneider, Aaron D. & Anderle, Michael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2021-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

12

The Unlikely

Tsminda Sameba was a romantic’s phantasm, sprung from canvas into the real world.

Sitting atop a high hill before the steep slopes of Mount Kazbek, its steeple and separate belltower made it look as though it was a gatehouse perched before the arduous trek to the white-headed peak. The track up to the church wound a penitent’s grueling path in a series of switchbacks and a final looping spiral to the courtyard of the church. This final run around the church was dotted with votive alcoves crowned with crosses, clutching icons to their stony bosoms. The entirety of the scene left both men muted in wonder and trepidation as the Rollsy chugged up to the courtyard. A wall of stacked stones ran alongside the courtyard channeling foot traffic, if there had been any, from the courtyard to a smaller stone-paved platform that led to the church doors.

A black-garbed man built like a low-slung ox stomped out of the church doors, waving his hands furiously at them as he skirted along the wall.

“You didn’t tell me you had family here,” Milo quipped as the Rollsy slowed to a stop.

“You noticed the tell-tale family coloration, did you?” Ambrose chuckled as the man came storming up to the cab, black beard bristling as his dark eyes glowered furiously at both of them.

“This is no place for soldiers!” he shouted, only partially out of anger since the wind and the Rollsy engine made a conversational tone impossible. “Turn this car around and head back down the way you came.”

The man planted himself firmly in front of Milo’s door, arms crossed over his broad chest. Milo couldn’t open the door without hitting the man, which he assumed was precisely the idea.

“Hardly hospitable, Father,” Ambrose called in Russian, turning off the engine as he half-rose in his seat to face the irate man. “What about a little Christian charity for weary travelers?”

“Not priest, deacon,” the man said in broken Russian. “Need things to go village now!”

With a jab of his finger, he pointed down the hill at the village of Gergeti, which Ambrose and Milo had been keen to avoid lest their presence cause a stir. A few men dressed like German soldiers might lead people to assume a German force was moving through the area, and while the agreement between Germany and Georgia had held thus far, Milo’s errand was too important to take chances.

“Deacon.” Milo spoke up, the elixir he’d learned in Ifreedahm granting him the ability to be understood in any language the hearer spoke. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we are looking for someone. A word, and we’ll be on our way.”

The deacon turned to Milo, bushy eyebrows raised in surprise as he looked the magus up and down.

“There is no one here but the priest, me, and one another deacon,” he said, curiosity stealing some of his bluster. “We have no business with soldiers, so you must be in the wrong place. If you are really looking for someone, you would be better off talking to those in the village.

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