The High-Wizard's Hunt

Chapter 12

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Reunion

Osric and Kenneth stood carefully, peering over the edge of a sheer rock cliff. Salty water beat against the rocks below. Kenneth stared into the distance and took slow, deep breaths of ocean air. Osric stepped away and expected his friend to follow, but Kenneth did not notice him move.

“Kenneth,” Osric said as he waved for him to follow, “let’s get going, they can’t be too far away.”

He didn’t move, but stood with a dreamy look in his eyes, watching the waves smash against the jagged rocks below.

“Kenneth?”

Growing concerned, Osric put his hand on Kenneth’s shoulder, and flickering light caught his attention from the corner of his eye.

“Ah!” Kenneth began to leap from foot to foot, running around in a circle, eyes locked on his feet. Blue flames danced on his boots as he ran.

Osric looked around quickly, trying to find a source for the flames. They seemed to have come from nowhere. Laughter rang out from behind him, but Kenneth was too occupied trying to put out the flames to hear it. Osric turned to see Machai’s head, a smile covering his face, peeking out from a small rock outcropping. He signaled Osric to stay quiet, so Osric turned back to watch Kenneth flail about, sitting down and beating at the eerie flames with his shirt, with a grin.

“Quit ye’r squawking or all of Rowain will know where we be.” Machai lowered his wand and stepped out from the rocks.

Kenneth looked up in surprise as the flames died out and noticed the jolly faces of both Machai and Thamas for the first time. He frowned up at them. “I think I ruined my shirt, thanks to you. What if you burned my feet, how would I be able to help stop the shipment?”

“Be assured, me friend,” he slapped him on the back, “there be no burn in me flames, unless I be intending it. What help will ye be, anyway? Ye still cannot be fighting with both of ye’r hands, if I do not be mistaken?”

“We should probably move somewhere less conspicuous before we talk about our plans.” Osric interrupted the two of them.

Machai held a hand out to help Kenneth up and turned back toward the rocks. “Aye, there be a fitting cave just over there.”

Kenneth pulled his shirt over his head, looking a bit annoyed. “Good, I’ll have a place to hide his body,” he said with a smirk.

The cave was lit with the same flame that Kenneth had frantically tried to put out on his feet. It was a small chamber with no other passages and looked like it had been home to an ursidae. Machai levitated several large rocks into the center of the cave for them to sit upon.

Osric sat and turned to Thamas. “I am glad to have you back with us. Your wisdom from your years as Contege may prove invaluable.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. Seems a wise man could have spied on Braya without getting caught. You seemed to do that well enough.” Respect for the younger man was clear on his face as he took in Osric. “I mean, look at you, a fine Contege. You’ve come a long way from the lanky recruit you once were.” Osric looked over at Thamas with surprise. He hadn’t realized that Thamas remembered him from his time as a recruit in Stanton. Thamas winked over at him. “Of course, I remember you. And that big friend of yours too.” He glanced over at Kenneth.

“A fine Contege?” Osric questioned, “I would still be in office if I had been a fine Contege. Instead, all the Vigiles are disbanded, and I can’t even go back to discover why.”

“Ah, that’s not your fault, boy.” He waved his hand in the air, nearly brushing the top of the chamber with the motion.

“Darn right, it’s not his fault,” Kenneth spoke assuredly as he joined them in conversation, “there was nothing he could have done. I’m sure they planned this all along.”

“Yes, but I bear some of the blame for this, or the Vigiles would still patrol Stanton.”

“Ye humans be doing too much of this.” Machai crossed his arms and leaned back. “When ye be done, can we be getting back to work?”

“What do you mean?” Thamas inquired.

“Eh, this be foolish talk. Ye be good men.” He leaned forward and pointed a crooked finger at each of them. “Ye should not be feeling sorry for yerselves for what be in the past. We have work to do. Ye did not be causing the trouble. Ye be wasting time professing ye’r guilt when ye should be making a plan. If ye be making mistakes, do not be dwelling on them, be learning from them. Ye be a leader, so lead.” Machai pulled out his axe and gripped it firmly, a look of determination on his face.

Osric nodded as Machai’s words began to resonate. He had no control over what had happened, and yet it had happened. All the time he had spent feeling sorry for himself added up, and his mind would have been better used if he had found some answers rather than dwelling on his mistakes. Osric fortified his heart as he lifted his head to look into the eyes of the other men.

“What do we know about the arrival of the shipment?”

“We be a day ahead of ‘em. Me kin would not be staying on a boat longer than needed. Ye cannot be trusting the water. We should be meeting ‘em on the northern road by nightfall.”

“How many will be in the caravan?”

“A dozen. Ye willn’t be needing more dwarves than that to be guarding a caravan.”

“Should we expect a fight, or do you think you can reason with them?” Osric knew his duty, and Machai was right. Their time was best spent finding answers and laying plans.

“Aye, I can be making them see reason.”

“We will need to find cover while we wait. We should head out as soon as we can. Travel by spell to keep from being seen. We will travel as far as we can see each time, so long as we can move safely. If we get started soon, it will give you two enough time to recover from the spell before we meet the dwarves.” Osric looked at the men. “Kenneth and I will stay hidden in case you need help. Machai, you and Thamas can try reasoning with them as soon as we make contact.”

*

Osric and Kenneth crouched in the tall grass to either side of the road and watched the caravan approach. Machai stood in the middle of the wide, gravel road with his weapons sheathed and his arms crossed. Thamas stood just behind him, praying silently to Archana that everything would go as planned. The caravan halted fifty paces from where the men waited and dwarven armor creaked in the chill dusk. Eight wagons, pulled by two sturdy horses each, were flanked by four battle proven dwarves on either side. Machai knew several of them well. Leading the procession, a dwarf nearly as wide as he was tall took a few steps toward them, and Machai noticed two crossbows rise up from under the canvas coverings on the wagons.

“Who be there, and what be ye’r business?” The dwarf’s hand rested on his weapon, but he did not draw it.

“Ye can be calling off ye’r arrows, Kablis. I be Machai, ye’r FireFall brother.” He took several steps forward and the archers followed his movements. “Ye need to be knowing the fate of these blades ‘fore ye be handing them over into wicked hands.” Kablis eyed Machai’s tall companion wearily.

“Machai, be ye aye, or be ye nay?” Machai grinned at the inquiry. Kablis was discreetly asking him if he was acting of his own free will, or if he were being coerced by another.

“Aye, Kablis, he be a friend and ally.” Machai nodded as Kablis motioned with his hand and the crossbows retreated back under the canvas coverings.

“Many lowly men be wielding Dwarven blades. What makes these hands so vile that they should not be grasping them?” Kablis challenged Machai.

“These be the worst of men. They be seeking to make war with men for wrongs that they be committing on their own. They be enslaving the entire race of dragons by holding their eldest kin at Braya Volcano, until a nobler man be freeing them less than a month ago.” Murmurs erupted from the dwarves guarding the caravan.

“Enslave the dragons?” Kablis stared in disbelief as he questioned Machai. “Have ye gone mad?”

“Nay, I be seeing it with me own eyes, and I be fighting alongside the wizard that be freeing them!” Machai indicated behind him in Osric’s direction.

“It’s true. Every word. The same men that held the dragons captive kept me imprisoned in the volcano. I have traveled with Machai since he helped to release me, and I beseech you to listen to us now. We cannot allow these men to engage in war armed with your superior weapons. You must not complete your delivery!”

Kablis’ expression showed more irritation than concern as he addressed Machai. “What interest of ours be human wars? I intend to be feeling the weight of the gold for this shipment in me hand.”

“The humans be gathering a large army. With Dwarven weapons in hand, they will be launching a war of greater scale than Archana has ever seen before. If ye think it will not be having an impact on our home, on our kin, then ye be the mad one.” Machai’s serious tone carried both fear and determination. “When Osric freed the dragons, he be slowing the army’s movements. Now we must be causing them to doubt their likelihood of victory. Do not be delivering these weapons.”

Kablis gazed at Machai with doubt and scratched his bearded chin. He glanced back at the convoy of wagons and his companions awaiting his orders and sighed. “Machai, ye’r tale be hard to swallow, but ye be as stubborn as a hill troll and I do not want to be hurting ye in order to be getting past. Another night’s sleep will not be making the gold any lighter, if I do not be thinking ye speak true by morning.” He turned to the other dwarves as he continued. “Clear the road. We will be making camp here for the night.”

Machai sighed in relief, grinned at Thamas, and turned toward their companions crouched near the side of the road.

Osric’s muscles tensed, his heart raced, and his hearing sharpened at the sound of hoofs approaching. He could hear the jingle of the horses’ tack and a cold, familiar voice issuing orders with anger. Aron, he thought with a panic as his skin began to heat, indicating imminent danger, why do we have to run into him right now? From the sound, the approaching troops were still a ways off and in no hurry. Osric reacted quickly, leaping out from his place of concealment and rushing up to Machai and Thamas.

“Men are approaching on horseback,” anger and fear flashed in Osric’s eyes, “I recognize that voice, Machai. Aron leads them!”

The dwarves were positioning themselves to defend the wagons if necessary, and Kablis looked startled at Osric’s sudden appearance and dire tone. An expression of rage washed over Machai’s face and the grass smoldered under his boots.

“Aron be the foul commander that kept the dragons caged. He be lucky he survived. He willn’t be so lucky twice.” Machai pulled his heavy battle axe from his back and stepped behind the first wagon out of sight. Kablis nodded at Machai as he passed, his expression turning from surprise to grim acceptance. He rested his hand on his weapon and stood in the middle of the road awaiting the approaching men. Osric moved behind a wagon as Kenneth crouched back down into the grass with his bow drawn. They watched nervously as two dozen horses rounded the curve and approached the caravan, with Aron in the lead.

Aron’s horse came to a stop a short distance from Kablis, and he signaled a halt. He looked over the dwarves with disdain.

“Why are you stopped? We are growing impatient waiting for our delivery.”

“The horses be spooked. We be wary of an ambush,” Kablis responded calmly.

Aron grunted and turned back to his men. “It seems these dwarves are incapable of controlling their beasts. Relieve them of the burden and get these wagons to the city immediately.” He urged his horse forward and shoved the saddlebags from his mount’s back onto the ground. They clinked heavily and Kablis flipped them open to reveal a fortune in gold coins. He smiled wryly and paused before looking back up at Aron.

“We be ordered to deliver the weapons to Rowain, not to gold laden bandits on the road in the dark.”

Aron laughed and signaled his men forward. “You have your gold, dwarf. Now call your men off the weapons while you still have your life.”

Aron’s men approached the wagons, wary of the heavily armed dwarves. Suddenly, the horses began to shy, eyes rolling with fear. A thin line of fire snaked toward Aron, moving eerily forward rather than spreading to consume the nearby grass.

Osric looked at Machai and shook his head, but his protest went unheeded. Osric eyed the fire with his Wand-Maker gift and recognized the barely contained fury as Machai urged the elemental flames toward his target. Aron’s men backed away from the flames as Machai stepped out from his concealed position. Aron’s eyes grew wide with recognition.

“Ye willn’t be taking these weapons anywhere,” Machai growled.

“You! You will die for your treasonous acts, dwarf,” Aron glared down at Machai as he shouted to his men, “Arrest them all. Kill any who resist!”

Osric looked at Kenneth, gritted his teeth in frustration, and signaled him to wait. He unsheathed his sword and readied his wand, anticipating a battle that could not end without bloodshed. He silently wished for simpler days and watched with dread as Aron’s men dismounted and moved to disarm and restrain the dwarves.

“Ye’r a fool if ye be thinking we will be going peacefully,” Kablis drew his sword in one hand and his wand in the other, and spoke sarcastically, “I still be thinking ye are robbers, after all.”

Aron sneered and charged his horse toward Kablis, raising his sword to strike. The stocky dwarf grinned and charged forward to meet him. Their blades met and the road erupted with fighting. Dwarves growled with anger as they charged the men attempting to ambush them.

Machai grinned wickedly and leapt into a large group of men. Wielding both wand and axe, he laughed as he met them head on. Osric signaled Kenneth to fire at the charging group of offenders. Osric controlled his breathing, feeling the Hunter’s gift, and stepped out from behind the wagon.

Osric cut down a man about to stab a dwarf as he fended off a second attacker, feeling chills from the flow of magic. There was no glory or honor from a death without the hunt, but at times it was necessary. Osric forced his regrets deep within and continued. He felt a surrender within his mind as the sword and his hands danced a deadly dance.

Each blade his crossed slid off with little effort. With his breathing controlled and his gift activated, he was a whirlwind of effortless motion. He cut down two more men who staggered their attacks, high and low. He pushed the low attack away with his wand, deflected the slash at his throat and rolled left. With a thrust, he ran his sword through the back of one man, and into the neck of the low attacker, simultaneously.

Osric took a moment to survey the battle as he pulled his sword from the men. It was clear that the dwarves were experienced warriors, and very few of them lay bloody and dying on the ground. Aron had himself surrounded by men helping to fight off an attack from three of Kablis’ guards. Machai seemed to be reveling in battle, his laughter echoing off the nearby cliffs. Kenneth had abandoned the bow in favor of his blade but appeared to be outmatched against the eight men attacking him.

Osric whispered and appeared behind the men, running his blade through two before the others even noticed him. His wand turned aside attack after attack, as his blade brought down each man it faced. Osric and Kenneth stood side by side, aided by their gifts as the Turgent’s highly trained men fell before them.

It was becoming clear to Osric, that though they were outnumbered, the battle would soon end in victory. The number of surviving soldiers was in their favor as he gazed out through the carnage.

The Portentist gift flared with danger and Osric turned, looking for the threat. There were only a few men left fighting the dual wielding dwarfs, but something was wrong. The pull began to take on a direction and his attention was drawn to Aron. The Braya commander was grasping Machai from behind as two men shielded him from the advancing axes.

“Hold,” Osric called out as he ran forward. He could see, as he peered into the magic realm, that Aron was slowly freezing the dwarf, and it was only Machai’s Elemental Fire gift that was keeping him alive. “I said hold!” Osric cursed himself silently for not inspecting Aron to learn of his innate ability of Elemental Ice.

Aron’s sneer followed Osric as he approached. Hate filled eyes watched him, and with a pull at Machai’s throat, he ordered Osric to stop his advance. “Don’t come any closer!”

The fighting stopped, and the eight remaining soldiers gathered around Aron. Fear clung to each man as they cowered with uncertainty, hoping for a way out of the battle with the dwarves.

“I should have known that you were here,” Aron spat. Malevolence burned hot on his face as he followed Osric’s movement.

“No need to act any further. You win.” Osric tried to reason with him, sheathing his sword and wand. He had known that he would make enemies while freeing the dragons, but losing Machai was an unacceptable price to have to pay. “Let him go, and you can have the weapons.” He could feel the importance of Machai’s life within as his various gifts barraged him with warnings.

“The weapons aren’t enough. This dwarf needs to answer for his crimes, so I think I will bring him back with me.” Aron’s loathsome feelings were clear. It wasn’t only Osric that had gained his reproach, it was all those who helped to free the dragons from their enslavement, and defeat Aron’s men in the process.

Osric could see the cold from Aron seeping deeper into Machai. He held out his hands to show he was unarmed, maintaining eye contact.

“I don’t think you will leave here alive if you try to take him.” Osric motioned to the remaining dwarves. “We must be able to come to a compromise. You take the weapons, and leave Machai with us. I will make sure that you are allowed to leave.” He could hardly believe his own words, but he knew it was right. Making sure that Machai survived was more important than the weapons. He would make sure that Machai lived, even if he wasn’t able to understand the significance or discern which gift was prompting the impression.

Aron watched Osric carefully, clearly considering his options with calculated animosity. He relaxed his grip on Machai slightly, and the dwarf’s breathing seemed to come a little easier. He ordered his men to get the wagons ready to leave for the city, but his eyes never left Osric’s. A predatory, cruel smile creased his lips as he backed down the road.

“I suppose your head is worth a bit more than the dwarf’s after the little show you put on at the volcano. Throw in that fancy sword and your,” Aron arched his brow questioningly, “Gus wand?” Cold, menacing anger was thick in his tone. “I think you are correct. You will insure that I leave unharmed, as you will be accompanying me.”

Osric held up his hand to halt the dwarves from raising their weapons. He felt within himself for the pull of his gift, and he came to the calm realization that it was the only way out of the situation.

“If you allow everyone else here to leave, I will return with you willingly,” Osric continued without hearing Kenneth’s protest, “But you must take me to the man in charge. I want to see the man responsible for the purchase of these weapons.”

“Oh, you will meet him.” Aron grinned viciously. “He will be the one who orders your execution.” Two of Aron’s men cautiously took Osric’s sword and wand and lashed his hands behind his back. They pushed him forward and told him to climb into the front of one of the wagons.

When Osric was seated and sufficiently guarded, with multiple arrows trained on him, Aron released his grasp on Machai and shoved him to the ground with unnecessary force. Color quickly returned to Machai’s face, but he made no effort to soften his fall or rise from the rough, gravel road. Kenneth angrily thrust his sword into the dirt and walked toward Aron, unburdening himself of all weapons as he strode purposefully toward the wagons.

“What will your commander say when you come back with just a handful of men, Aron? First you failed in your duties at Braya, and now you lose nearly all of the men on an errand to accept a delivery. Are you sure you should even show your face back in that city?” Kenneth laughed, coming face to face with Aron tauntingly. Kenneth cocked his head and returned Aron’s spiteful grin.

Osric shook his head, wide eyed, while he watched Kenneth approach Aron. Fool, we have to avoid letting the visions play out the way I see them! Desperately trying to convey the message to Kenneth in only a look, Osric sat helpless as Kenneth did not so much as glance in his direction.

“When I bring back the man responsible for isolating our armies, he will undoubtedly promote me. Two traitors are better than one, so you will come, too.” Aron’s men lashed Kenneth’s hands and shoved him toward the wagon to join Osric. Aron ordered two of his men with bows to stay behind and shoot any dwarf that tried to come after them, and then he jumped up into the front of a passing wagon.

Osric felt annoyed at Kenneth’s actions, though he understood the reasoning. However, he knew where the trip would end - with him and Kenneth beaten, gagged, and chained against a cold wall. He would have to find a way out. The vision Kenneth had shown him ran through his head, and the words he heard rang clear.

The High-Wizard’s heart will break or blight, casting success onto dark or light. When knowledge shared of knowledge gained is won, cast not the common eye upon the stone. First lay the stones from under ground to sky, then shift the sight and weave the flow of time. Build the order, Aranthians arise.

Osric looked at Kenneth as the wagon rolled toward Rowain.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you go head first into a trap without back up, did you?” Kenneth whispered with grim determination in his voice.