“I have never been in this building, but I agree.” The voice of a strange woman reached his ears.
“I don’t know, they built this place for function, not for beauty.” Yet another unfamiliar voice of a man pierced the air.
Sheathing his sword and raising his wand, Osric stepped through the door. “What are you doing bringing others here?” Osric’s whisper carried as much authority as he could force when addressing Bridgett.
“These two need to speak with you as well.” Bridgett arched an eyebrow and smiled. “This is Margaret. She has been helping get clothing and blankets to the citizens who lost family members in the palace,” she indicated the petite, black haired woman following her, “and this is Tobias. He runs one of the many hunting parties that have been providing them with food.”
Osric motioned for Bridgett to follow him into the room to discuss the new arrivals. She complied, and Osric shut the door behind them. Fighting back the urge to attempt another kiss, he forced her to the wall.
“Why would you bring others here? I don’t need vendors’ and hunters’ deaths on my hands!” Osric forced the words out through grinding teeth.
Bridgett pushed back and Osric found himself bracing to avoid a fall against the desk in the room.
“If you would only listen to them, you would find out that they have a great deal to offer. Besides, they came to us, we did not go to them!” She backed him up even further as she tapped his chest with a finger. “There are a great deal of your people who want to fight. You need to start trusting those who surround you. I have been using my Empath gift my entire life, and I know how to tell if someone is genuine in their intentions.”
“Trust is not the issue.” He sought to express his frustration while suppressing his desire to embrace her. “They could die if they are found out, and it is my responsibility to protect them.”
“I have news for you.” Bridgett laid her open hand firmly against his chest. “They have been protecting the people too, but they have been doing it with food and blankets. A sword is not the only weapon that can kill. If the Kallegian have their way, Stanton may become a ghost town from starvation and the harsh winter. These people have been seeing to it that we all survive.”
“And all of their efforts will end in bloodshed should the Kallegian put a sword through their gut for not turning me in!”
“And their lives may end due to an empty gut if they do nothing.” Lowering her hand to take his, Bridgett looked into his eyes. “Osric, this is a pointless argument. These people are the ones who informed the Vigiles to go into hiding when the Kallegian started rounding them up. They sought us out because they are tired of being herded around like animals, and you inspired that in them. They will fight whether you let them or not. People are going to die, but if you lead them, a lot fewer will end up in a grave.” Sympathy adorned her face and she stepped even closer to him.
“I don’t know how to lead them,” Osric said painfully.
“Osric, you have everything you need within you to be the greatest leader this world has ever seen. Use the gifts you have been given, and everything you have learned, and the rest will come. They look to you for guidance, not for guarantees.” She traced her fingers down his cheek, her breath catching in her throat as she looked into his eyes, and she turned away quickly. “I believe in you,” she added, opening the door and beckoning for Margaret and Tobias to join them.
“I hear that you have news,” Osric greeted the newcomers awkwardly as he sat on the edge of the desk.
“Yes, Contege,” Margaret answered. “The Kallegian have been harassing the vendors and demanding free food from all of the carts in the market. We are tired of their treatment and want to join in the fight to free ourselves from them.”
“What is it that you think you can do to help? The Vigiles are trained to fight, and we have sworn an oath to protect the city and its residents. What can vendors and cooks do, other than get in the way?” Osric felt a bit guilty as Bridgett’s eyes bored into him for the tone he used with them.
“We may not have been defending Stanton as long as you have,” Tobias jumped into the conversation, “but we have been living here for as long as your family has. We are the people who built Stanton. We plant the fields, hunt the land, and serve our community because we love our home. We have something to fight for!”
Osric raised an eye at the passion in his speech. “We have no doubt that you want to fight, but what we need to know is how you plan to help. This is a battle that can easily be lost if we have to come to the rescue of citizens who are in over their heads.”
“You are a hunter, correct?” Tobias inquired.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever had trouble while hunting?”
“Of course, you never go hunting without the possibility of trouble.”
“You have to think on your feet when a half dozen dragmas are out for your blood, don’t you?”
Osric smiled. “Yes, and you have to have luck on your side, too.” Osric shrugged, admitting defeat with the hunters. “I still do not understand how we can use the vendors and shop owners in an effective manner.”
“Then you obviously have never gotten to know many shop owners,” Margaret answered. “The Vigiles are not always three steps away when someone wants something they don’t feel like paying for. Thieves are not known for asking politely if they can steal our wares, and none of us would stay in business long in a trade center like Stanton if we didn’t know our way around a wand and a blade.”
Sighing, Osric looked at the two of them. “That is all well and good, but we already have plans in the making, and there is no way we will have time to inform all of the citizens who want to help of what we need them to do.” He placed his hands on the desktop and leaned in. “How are we going to coordinate with them with so little time to organize?”
Tobias grinned and folded his arms across his chest. “Funny thing is, the Kallegian don’t think to question us too much when a battle is looming. We can simply walk around, visiting stores like we are shopping, and spread the word. All we need from you,” he leaned in, “is orders.”
Osric scratched his head, looking at the map of Stanton spread out upon his desk. He had to find a way to keep them out of trouble or he would never forgive himself for their deaths. With their determination to fight, he could also see no way to keep them out of the battle. The trick was in finding a way to make them feel useful, but to also keep them out of the path of the major battle.
“All right.” Osric accepted that they could use all the help they could get, but he sighed at their excited expressions. “Give me a moment to think about the logistics and then you can spread the word. But please, be very careful who you choose to speak with. If any citizen decides to tell the Kallegian our plans, it would mean many, many people of Stanton would die. Do you understand?” They nodded somberly and assured him they would be cautious as they stepped back out into the hall.
Osric called to Machai to join him and then realized that there was another man he didn’t know standing with the dwarf in the hall. He feared he would never get used to the mental strain of leadership as he waited impatiently for Machai to explain the unfamiliar guest.
“Osric, this be Aridis. He be a friend to the dragons, and I expect he’ll be of great use to ye.”
Osric greeted the old man warmly, if hesitantly, and sat back in the chair heavily.
“I am glad to see that you are welcoming the contribution of good people who share in the belief of your cause. Archana needs men who can lead hearts as well as swords.” Aridis took the chair across from Osric’s desk. “I would like to show you a book. I think it may help you in the upcoming battle.”
*
Machai walked away from his dwarven kin, confident in their ability to carry out their part of the plan. He stepped outside of the small shack that James used to store the supplies for his cart and scanned the surrounding area. Two Kallegian were walking away from him but didn’t bothe
r to turn around. He wouldn’t chance the possibility of them watching him travel so he walked into the space between the buildings. After the spell was spoken, he found himself in the forest a short ways from Stanton.
Machai was glad that Kablis and the other dwarves had been true to their word. When he contacted them, they were still waiting in the caves outside of Rowain. Machai had traveled to them before continuing on to Stanton. It took some convincing, but he managed to make them see the wisdom in supporting Osric in the upcoming battle.
Thamas, Aridis, Machai, and the eleven other dwarves had arrived shortly after Osric, and Machai knew they had very little time to prepare. Most of the day and night had already passed since their arrival, and they expected the attack to begin as soon as Aron arrived. Machai had one more stop to make before he took his position for the fighting, and he had a bit of a search to find his man.
He maintained a quick pace as he traversed the trail, keeping an ear open for whispered voices. The night was moving in and would make it more difficult to find his target. The rustling of leaves and an owl hooting in the distance is all that he could make out, but he knew he was getting close. In the distance, the murmurs of careful whispers could soon be discerned, so Machai ventured from the path.
Thamas was standing in the clearing and Greyback crouched down, accepting a pat on her snout while they waited.
“Does everything be in place?” Machai asked, as he approached from the dark woods.
“Yes, Machai. But I have to remind you that the dragons will not be fighting in this battle. It is enough that we ask this much from them,” Thamas answered with a tinge of sadness.
“Do not be worrying. All we need from them is that they be keeping us aware of movements. Communications from above may be helping us to be staying ahead of the fight. We will be knowing where to be concentrating our forces.” He motioned to Thamas. “We are lucky ye can be communicating with the dragons telepathically.”
“Well, being a Telepath is a useless gift when you are dealing with humans, but I can admit that it has become useful in these last few months,” Thamas said.
“Ye be a keen enough warrior to be earning a place in human society before this, so do not be speaking so harshly of ye’rself,” Machai said with a grin. He turned to Greyback. “So, ye be certain that the dragons will be performing the task that we be asking of them?”
“Oh, yes. Though they will not fight, they have admitted a great desire to see your side victorious. Those who patrol the skies will do as the High-Wizard requested.” Greyback bowed her long, scaled neck gracefully.
“The dragons will do their part, I can assure you.” Thamas took a step toward Machai. “But do we have a plan that will make us the victors of this battle? It is no secret that the Kallegian have knowledge of magic beyond that of the average mind. Do we have any hope of defeating a force that skilled?”
Machai grasped Thamas’ arm firmly and looked steadily into his eyes. “In battle, there be no guarantees, but ye must be holding firm to ye’r beliefs in the face of any enemy. If ye be giving in from lack of courage, then ye be already dead.” He turned away to head back to Stanton as the sun set in the distance. Pausing for a moment, he looked over his shoulder. “If a guarantee is what ye be needing, I offer me own. The day will be dawning with the cold, lifeless bodies of the dragon cagers beneath us. We will be victorious.”
*
Gus stood to his full height upon a fallen log in the woods outside of Stanton. His eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered with apprehension. He knew that he must convince them to join Osric’s cause, but it would not be easy to sway them to fight in the battle. He had pulled out all the stops and used his authority as a world renowned Wand-Maker to bring beasts of every breed to the meeting. It was an eclectic group. While many of the animals would not normally live in the region, the busy trade industry in and around Stanton provided work and food for a wide variety of species. The furry faces of creatures small and large eyed him with curiosity. Many of them were animals he recognized, and a few of them were unfamiliar to him but vouched for by his older children as honorable.
“I know you are all wondering why I have gathered you here.” Gus gazed out as many nodded in agreement. “Over the past few months, it has become apparent that our world is growing restless, and our freedom is under threat.” Gus’ tone was somber and he spoke only loud enough for his words to reach each keen ear gathered before him. “We are at war.” Murmuring broke out in the crowd and Gus heard tittering laughter from a group of squirrels to his right.
“You’re goin’ senile, you old furbag.” The jeer came from a young wolf named Ordin laying on the carpet of pine needles on the forest floor. Gus remembered the year the pup was born. The winter had been colder than usual and Ordin’s mother had grown ill late in her pregnancy. A local healer had administered herbs and Gus was there casting protection spells over her. The herbs had eased the rattling cold from her lungs, but they had also sent her into labor. Without Gus there to cast his spells, the pups likely would have died when she whelped early. Ordin was still thinner than the average wolf of three summers, and Gus hoped he was stronger than he looked.
“You can laugh and make jokes if you want. Your disrespectful arrogance will only keep you ignorant.” Gus aimed his wand at the kindling in a small circle of stones on the ground before him and lit a fire with a spell. “We are at war, and I want to show you the kind of men that are threatening your homes and families. Threatening your freedom.”
Gus had never been very good at fire tellings. He was a master at manipulating the strands of magic, and even better at binding them into a stick to make a wand, but convincing a fire to depict his words was not a strong suit for him. Still, he could think of no better way to persuade the crowd of creatures than to show them the things he had seen. Gus reminded himself silently that it was just another spoken spell. Fire tellings had been the traditional method of passing on stories for far longer than he had been alive. Yet no one seemed to remember their origins. Gus knew that they must have begun with the ursidae that had written Osric’s book of spoken spells. He had been the first to use spells in that manner, and Gus could only smile wryly at the irony that the technique had been in use ever since, but no one in the Human Realm knew that spoken spells existed until Osric rediscovered them.
Gus scurried back onto the log and looked out over the crowd. Many of the animals looked back at him skeptically and gazed at the fire with instinctual distrust. It was obvious that most of them doubted the seriousness of the situation. It was easy to roam a forest and forget that the happenings of humans and their cities would ultimately affect every creature in the surrounding area. It was just as easy to see the signs of change and ignore them, confident and comfortable in the surrounding country. Yet, many of the animals Gus was addressing lived within the city of Stanton. They worked alongside men at a variety of tasks. Even those animals eyed Gus with expressions of disbelief and mere tolerance for an eccentric, old Wand-Maker.
“I have gathered you here today to make a choice.” The flames of the fire swayed with his voice as he focused his words into the fire. “I have chosen to dedicate all of my power and resources to defend our home. I will do anything I can to help Osric stop the war that is brewing on the horizon. If we can’t stop the war, then it will lead to massive devastation and destruction across Archana, and it will start right here in our own land.” Gus’ somber tone and the hypnotic movement of the flames at last captured the attention of every creature gathered, and Gus began his tale.
“On my recent adventures, I was shown a tragic glimpse into the history of Archana. Deep within the Caves of D’Pareth, I bore witness to this tale at another fire telling. I assume many of you are unaware that the dragons were not providing transportation willingly.” The animals watched the images forming in the flames of the fire with wide eyes. Gus recounted the tale of the dragons’ imprisonment that he had heard from the eagle, Ero. He showed them the massive cage
s built into the inner chamber of the Braya volcano. The fire displayed vivid images of how the dragon elders were lured into the cages with promises of a grand feast and the doors were sealed behind them by powerful spells. Fear and fury spread through the crowd as the animals cried out at the injustices inflicted upon the great, flying beasts. Gus told them that the dragons were forced to fly humans and other walkers around on their backs. “They feared that their kin within the volcano would be tortured if they did not comply, and everyone was led to believe that the dragons were working for hire. A few silver coins down their gullets and they’ll fly anyone around, right? Wrong! The dragons were forced to provide this service to the selfish people keeping their elders in cages. They manipulated the common knowledge that dragons are fond of treasure to keep the general population from becoming suspicious. For hundreds of years, the dragons were enslaved.” Gus gazed out over the crowd, gauging their reactions. “But no more.”
The scene in the fire shifted, revealing the city of Stanton on the day of Osric’s promotion to Contege. He looked as young and inexperienced as Gus remembered. Of course, little time had passed since that day. So much had happened in such a brief time that Gus felt as though Osric had been arguing with, and annoying him, for years.
“Most of you should recognize our Contege.” Gus raised his voice as the figure bowed before Ryhain Domnall to accept his new position. “Osric has not been in his position long,” Gus cautioned the crowd, “but we have watched the foolishness of humans for a long time, and we know a good man when we see one.” Gus surveyed the reactions. He remained hopeful that the story would win a few of the crowd, but he was as yet unconvinced.
“This man led us,” he looked out at the eyes trained on his tale unfolding in the fire, “on dragonback. He took us far from this land,” he paused, as the narrative played out in the flames. It was then that he realized he had put a great deal of effort into imitating the vocal variety of Stanton’s greatest fire tellers, and those witnessing the event were starting to become entranced. “We discovered new magics, and even slayed a Paun.” The crowd gasped at the horrific scene in the woods depicted by the fire. Gus climbed down, stepped toward the flames, and tempered his voice. As his volume lowered, the figures in the flames shrank just enough to cause the crowd to lean toward him in anticipation.
The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two Page 20
