Wizard Cadet (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 2)

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Wizard Cadet (Intergalactic Wizard Scout Chronicles Book 2) Page 16

by Rodney Hartman


  Richard held Brachia and Dren up in order to let the group pass. When they had moved about forty meters up the road, Richard began walking again.

  “They look tired and scared,” Dren said.

  “Yes, they do,” said Nickelo. “They remind me of some videos I have in my databanks of refugees.”

  “So they do,” Richard said. “Nick, I think it would be best if you didn’t talk out loud when we get around other people. I don’t think a strange, disembodied voice coming out of my hood would warm us to the locals.”

  “Understood,” said Nickelo. “I’ll talk to you again, kids, when we’re by ourselves.”

  “Rick,” said Dren. “Why do you think all these people on the road are headed south? There must be two hundred people that we can see. Surely the village can’t accommodate everyone.”

  “Well,” Richard said, “I’d say the thing that has them on the road is the same thing that normally has refugees on the road. War. I’m betting it’s at least an invasion of some type. I seriously doubt many of these people will stop in the village. They will just pass through. They will probably continue heading towards whatever safety they believe is in the south.”

  “Can we get a cart, Rick?” said Brachia. “I think it would be fun riding on one.”

  “Brachia,” Richard said, “I seriously doubt there’s a spare cart to be had within a hundred kilometers in any direction. Look behind us.”

  The road had slowly risen up a slight hill. They were now at the crest, and a look behind showed the road stretched out far to the north. Small and large groups were stretched along the road. Everyone was heading south. The further north they looked, the greater the mass of people they could see.

  “Oh, my,” said Dren, “those poor people. There must be thousands of them.”

  Nick? Richard thought.

  I can visually count two thousand eight hundred and forty-nine, said Nickelo. There was just a trickle of people last night and this morning. I suspect even what we are seeing right now is just a hint of what is to come. Do you want me to send the drone north to ascertain what is driving them south?

  Not yet, Richard said. We may need it down here. I want to keep it close by for now.

  As he continued looking to his rear, Richard noticed small groups of dots beginning to appear on the prairie.

  “Looks like a lot of them aren’t even sticking to the road,” Richard said. “That definitely doesn’t bode well.”

  As Richard and the children stood on the side of the road looking, a small family unit of five people approached and started to pass on the far side of the dirt road. A middle-aged man led the way followed by a weathered-looking woman and three very tired children. The oldest youth was a boy about Dren’s age.

  “Excuse me,” said Dren to the boy. “Where is everybody going, and why is everyone heading south?”

  The boy looked as if he was going to answer, but the man turned around and said, “Jesol! What did I tell you about talking to strangers? Keep moving.”

  Richard reached over his shoulder and put his hand under the flap of his pack. He pulled out two half-meter long sticks of salami. They were cold as if they’d just come out of a deepfreeze.

  “Food for a couple of answers, friend,” Richard said. “You all look a little hungry.”

  The man stopped and looked even more suspiciously at Richard and the children. The man glanced around furtively as if trying to decide what to do. Richard thought the man wanted to take the food, but he suspected a trick of some kind.

  “No one gives food away for nothing,” said the man. “We want nothing to do with you and your strange ways and looks. What kind of helmet is that under your hood? Are you a soldier? You’re probably a deserter from the king’s army.”

  “Sorry,” Richard said as he started to put the salami back in his pack. “I said food for answers, not more questions.”

  The woman must have sensed an opportunity slipping out of their grasp. She marched past the man and said, “Some here are headed to Tranvalar and the coast. Others are heading towards the elves’ lands in the south. Not that it will do them any good. Those high and mighty elves wouldn’t let humans into their precious forests if the Dark One himself was after them.”

  Richard handed the woman one of the salamis. The woman reached for the other, but Richard drew it back out of her reach.

  “Nope,” Richard said, “one food for one answer. You haven’t told us why.”

  “Why?” said the man as he walked up to stand next to the woman. “Are you daft? Where have you been the past month?”

  “We’ve been isolated,” Richard said. “Now, answer the question, and you’ll have this last stick of meat.”

  “It’s the Northern Mages’ army,” said the woman taking charge again. “Surely you heard the rumors last winter of a great army of undead in the lands to the north?”

  When Dren and Brachia shook their heads no, the woman continued. “Well, the tales would have kept you young ones from sleeping, I can tell you that,” said the woman. “It did mine. But bad as the stories were, the real thing is worse. Those black-hearted mages have come south with the rotting corpses they call an army. They can’t be stopped. Wherever they go, the ground gives up its dead. Those who fight their army die, then their hacked up bodies rise to fight on the side of their previous enemy. An army of dwarves and elves along with a group of gnomes and humans met the Northern Mages’ army last week in the north. The host of the dwarves and elves were decimated, and now their dead swell the ranks of the necromancer. Nothing can stop the Northern Mages, not even the magic of the elves or their vaunted tree. The only safety is in the south, and it’s a temporary one at that. Now, if that wasn’t worth that last slab of meat, I don’t know what else I can say. That’s all I know.”

  “You’ve done well,” Richard said as he reached over his shoulder and pulled out two more sticks of salami. He handed all three to the woman. “I wish you and your family well, woman.”

  The woman took the meat without another word and rushed back to her children. The man looked at Richard. He started to follow his wife, but at the last second he hesitated. Richard got the impression the man wanted to say thanks, but he was too suspicious of strangers to allow the words to come out.

  “You’d do well to head south as well,” said the man in what sounded like a backhanded way to express his thanks. “Only death waits in the north. The survivors of the towns of Kevar, Solonais, and Deveonar are all on the road by now headed this way. It’s going to get very crowded, very soon. There won’t be enough food or water for even a tenth of them. By the time the Northern Mages get here, there will probably be enough corpses to make them another army.”

  The man took his leave, and Richard watched the family for a little while as they hurried southward.

  “Well,” Richard said, “I guess we know why everyone is running south now.”

  “You believe them?” said Dren. “The idea of some army of undead sounds like something from one of those low-budget horror videos. I’m sure there’s a more logical explanation. Surely, you don’t believe in zombies, ghouls, and such.”

  Richard had a flashback to his mission from the previous year. A shudder ran down his spine as he remember a half-rotted corpse trying to chew its way through the neck armor of his battle suit.

  “Oh,” Richard said, “I do believe it’s more than possible. Given our current situation, it even seems probable. According to Nick, we are in the plane of magic. I’m not real sure what the plane of magic is, but I have no doubt things similar to what the woman described can exist here.”

  Dren did not look convinced, but she refrained from further argument. Richard had a feeling she was just waiting for further evidence to present itself before starting the discussion anew.

  “I’m not scared of zombies,” said Brachia. “Omar would make those zombies walk the plank.”

  “Hush, Brachia,” said Dren. “Something is causing these people to panic and run. W
hatever it is, we should be cautious. A little fear can be helpful sometimes.”

  “Indeed it can,” Richard said. He knew from experience a little bit of fear could be a good thing in some cases. It sharpened the senses, and it often motivated people to make wiser decisions. On the other hand, a lot of fear did the opposite. It could numb a man’s mind and make him panic or freeze.

  Then, said Nickelo privately, don’t let fear overcome you. And, don’t let the kids get overly frightened as long as you can help it.

  Easy for you to say, Richard said. And please stop reading my thoughts.

  Then please stop shouting, said Nickelo with a hint of amusement.

  “Rick,” said Dren. “Please stop doing that. You should be talking to us as well. It’s a little insulting.”

  “Sorry, Dren,” Richard said. “It’s just a bad habit.”

  “What are we going to do now?” said Dren. “Are we still going to the village?”

  “Nick?” Richard said aloud for the children’s benefit. The next batch of refugees was still a couple of hundred meters away, so Richard figured it was safe to talk.

  “I don’t know, Rick,” said Nickelo. “I suspect we will get more of the same in the village. In all likelihood, we’ll just find trouble there. Large crowds of scared people have a tendency to cause the worst traits of humanity to come to the surface. But, the little information we have been given isn’t all that useful either. I have no suggestions on which direction we should head or what destination we should strive for. I’m leaving it up to you to make your best guess.”

  “So, what do you feel we should do, Rick?” said Dren.

  “Yeah,” said Brachia. “You’re a wizard scout. You know what to do, don’t you, Rick?”

  Richard smiled slightly at the little boy’s faith.

  “I don’t want to disappoint you, Brachia,” Richard said, “But I’m not a wizard scout yet, remember? I’m a cadet in training. I haven’t known what to do for quite a long while.”

  Oh, yeah, said Nickelo privately. That’ll keep the children from being overcome with fear. What a great way to build up their confidence.

  Hush, Richard said.

  “But,” Richard said, “I feel like we should continue on into the village. I don’t know if the feeling is coming from me or from some tele-bots. That’s assuming tele-bots are even in the area. Regardless, we may be able to find out something in the village that could help us make a decision. Anything we decide to do now is going to be a guess.”

  No one said anything, so Richard took that as a sign of agreement. He almost wished someone, anyone, including Brachia, would make a counter suggestion. As it was, it was his plan, and the responsibility for any bad consequences now rested on his shoulders. It suddenly hit Richard that he was responsible for the lives of these children. They were blindly going along with his decision because he was the adult. They trusted him.

  What if I make the wrong decision? Richard asked his battle computer.

  Then make another decision and fix it, replied Nickelo. You will make mistakes. It’s called life. Now, stop stalling. You’ve coded and compiled your program. All you can do now is run it and observe the output.

  Roger that, Richard said as he started walking in the direction of the village.

  Before long, they were at the village outskirts. The place was crowded. Richard estimated the village ordinarily had a population between five and eight hundred people. Nickelo informed him there was ten times that number in the village now. The place was a madhouse. Some less than ethical entrepreneurs were hawking food and even water. Although Richard had no idea of the value of the coins they were asking for their wares, he could tell by the shocked look on the faces of the bystanders that the asking price was outrageous.

  “Four creos for a bag of water?” shouted a red-faced man at one of the hawkers. “That’s highway robbery. We can get water for free in the next stream.”

  “Well, then,” said a pot-bellied man holding up two four-liter sized leather bags, “you should go to the next stream and get your free water. But, you may find a group of men at the stream charging a lot more than me for using their water. In case you don’t already know, there’s no water in the village’s well. It was drained dry last night by the first wave of you northerners.”

  “Then, we’ll find a stream that’s not guarded,” said the red-faced man. “I’ll give you one creo apiece for the water and not a single coin more. Furthermore, none of those around me will buy your water at your price either. It’s either one creo, or we’ll find our own water. Eh, lads?”

  A few people in the crowd muttered agreement, but the overall effect was not the enthusiastic response the red-faced man had probably hoped for. The pot-bellied hawker was not impressed.

  “The price for my water is four creos,” said the hawker. “By noon, the price will go to five creos, and it will be six by this evening. There won’t be a price tomorrow, because I and anyone else who wants to stay alive in this village will be long gone. So, if you want to waste precious time looking for free water, you can have at it. But, for anyone who wants to buy water now and be alive to drink it tomorrow, the price is four creos. I only have forty bags, so decide now, or I’ll move on to those who do want to live.”

  “I’ll take two,” said an older man in the crowd who was surrounded by a brood of six children. He handed some coins to the hawker and hurriedly withdrew with his family.

  “I’ll take one,” said another.

  “And I’ll take three,” said a third.

  Before long, the pot-bellied man was sold out. He shouted to the crowd that he would be back later with more water. Richard had a feeling the man would not return. Richard also noticed the red-faced man walking away carrying two bags of water. He was grumbling, but apparently he had paid the price.

  “You could give them water out of your canteen, Rick,” said Dren. “I feel sorry for these people.”

  “No,” Richard said a little harsher than he intended. “And, don’t mention that we have water or food around a crowd of people. They’d tear us apart to get it if they even suspect we had something to eat or drink.”

  “Rick,” said Dren “look at these people. They’re suffering. If we can help them, then we should. They wouldn’t hurt us if we were trying to help them.”

  “You don’t know people like I do, Dren,” Richard said. “You come from a civilized place. You’ve probably been surrounded by well-respected scientists and well-fed people all your life. You have no idea what desperate people will do. I lived on the streets for three years after I left the orphanage. I’ve seen hungry, desperate people. I’ve seen what they can do. I’ve seen what I’ve done when I’ve gotten hungry. These people are just starting to get desperate. Tomorrow or the next day or maybe the next, these people are going to start doing things neither of you will want to see.”

  “But still, Rick,” said Dren unwilling to give up, “it doesn’t seem right to deny people aid when we have plenty. Also, I think you underestimate people. I believe they are inherently good.”

  “Dren,” Richard said, “and you too, Brachia, don’t kid yourselves. These people will turn on you in a heartbeat. If they do, I will have to kill them to protect you. I might have to kill hundreds of them to keep you from harm. Now, don’t say anything to anyone about food or water. If you do, you may be signing these people’s death warrants. We may be able to help individuals from time to time, but not crowds. They can turn into mobs very easily. Besides, we have no idea how much food or water we have available to us. We probably have plenty for our own needs. However, I doubt ‘the One’, or whoever is at the other end of my dimensional pack and canteen, stocked enough supplies to feed thousands.”

  Dren opened her mouth to say something, but Richard cut her off.

  “Please, Dren,” Richard said. “I need you to help me. I don’t want to have the blood of innocent people on my hands, but I will kill in order to protect you if I am forced. Please, don’t make
me do something horrible. I need you to promise me you won’t say anything about food or water around other people.”

  Dren must have sensed the seriousness of his voice, because she capitulated and said, “Okay, Rick. I won’t say anything.”

  “Brachia?” Richard said.

  “I won’t say anything either, Rick,” said Brachia.

  “Good,” Richard said. Then he added, “And, thanks. I’m depending on you guys.”

  The crowd seemed to be getting thicker around the remaining hawkers, so Richard urged the children forward. He wasn’t sure where they needed to go, but he felt like he should continue forward. It irked him to think he might be allowing ‘the One’ to control his actions, but he wasn’t sure what else to do. He consoled himself with the thought there might not be any tele-bots around. Or if there were, they might not be under the control of ‘the One’.

  The crowd got thicker as they approached the center of the village. Richard was forced to take the lead in order to bull his way through the crowd. Even the largest men had to give way to the strength of the battle suit Richard wore underneath his robe. He got some strange looks as he passed through the crowd, but no one challenged him.

  Eventually, Richard heard shouting to his front. He headed in that direction. The children followed. Before long, he had elbowed his way to the edge of the crowd. A small man in what looked like a velvet suit stood on the steps of a large, wooden building. He was shouting to the crowd. A dozen armed men stood between the man and the crowd.

  “There is no food,” said the man on the steps. “I tell you, we gave all we had to the first refugees last night. Even our well has been drained dry.”

  “Our children are thirsty,” shouted a voice from the crowd.

 

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