The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two (24 page)

“Wait.” Osric’s plea halted Dredek’s departure, and the Konsult turned back with a curious expression. “At least tell me why you had to attack the palace in Stanton. You could have used any number of excuses to initiate conflict, but you chose to kill hundreds of innocent people. Why?”

“Men have a tendency to say one thing, but do another, and I am tired of witnessing the hypocrisy. The peace treaty embodied in the Ratification Ceremony was a blatant lie. I felt compelled to put it to an end. Men could never truly be peaceful with all the other races of Archana. I could not allow the false assumption to take hold, that war could be eradicated with a few waxen seals and a celebratory toast.”

“But you were the one initiating the war.” Osric glared at him in disbelief. “The races of Archana could have lived in peace if it were not for your actions.”

“Do not be a fool, Portentist,” Dredek hissed. “Men live short, meaningless lives full of conflict and deceit. Each man lives only long enough to make false promises, and then break them, before being slain by some greater creature of this world. There is no community, no shared memory from which to learn of the past and therefore the future. If you think the Human Realm could truly live at peace for more than a mere generation or two, you are not worth the effort of eliminating you.” Dredek spun away from Osric and walked out, emanating feelings of rage, frustration, disgust, and a deep sorrow.

Aron regained his confidence as the cell door clanged shut behind Dredek. Osric attempted to relax, preparing himself to appear cooperative. He knew that he needed to retrieve the wand and escape. He would have to move fast to keep them from realizing what he was doing and speak silently so they could not understand what he was saying. The wand was held loosely in Aron’s grasp as his cold eyes examined the intricate grain of the stick.

The two guards stood on either side of Osric, and their heavy, iron keys rattled at their belts. Osric hung his head in an act of surrender, lifting his chin enough to allow him to speak. This was the time to act; the time that would end with freedom or death. Osric forced all uncertainty out of his mind with a slow, inhaled breath. All tension drained from his mind as he focused his thoughts, and his sight, on the pale patch of stone in front of Aron. His Portentist gift flared, igniting his whole being with a sense of security, and he was certain it was time to act.

“Eo ire itum,” Osric whispered. He appeared with his hand on the weakly held wand, and pulled it away. Turning back, he thrust his elbow under Aron’s chin, spun the wand and cast two rapid stun spells in the guards’ direction.

Aron roared in anger as the hooded figures dropped to the floor. Osric rotated on his heels, feeling empowered with his wand and the spoken word working together. Aron drew a wand from somewhere on his hip as he rolled away to avoid the next spell Osric cast.

Spells erupted from both wands, invisible but severely damaging the stone walls after rebounding off a defensive shield or missing their moving target. An unnatural chill began to fill the room, and Osric could sense that Aron was responsible. He had to find a way to end the duel quickly or escape the confines of the room and return with more help, but he could not leave Kenneth.

Osric began to
travel
to random positions to try and catch Aron with a spell he did not see coming. Once, then twice, the spells were averted by a full shield. A few more rebounded off of objects Aron managed to throw in the path of the spells. Aron had began to panic in his defense and was hurling the candles, chairs, and anything within reach to hide his movements and deflect the spells.

“How are you doing that?” Aron screamed. Veins pulsed on his red face, and he cooled the room further. Aron looked exhausted and desperate. Osric felt confident that he would soon be victorious and able to escape with Kenneth in tow.

Aron looked at the door and scrambled toward it in an attempt to escape. Osric prepared himself to
travel
again in order to flee, and he gripped Kenneth by the arm. When Aron lifted the handle, Osric caught a glimpse of his father’s sword still laying on the table.

“Eo-” He hesitated for a moment, knowing that he could not reach the supplies and take Kenneth with him. “Ire-” A moment’s desperation filled him at the thought of his father’s sword being used by a man such as Aron. Osric stepped toward the table to grab the sword, memories of his father and the small town of Lothaine flashing in his mind. Just as he took a step, Osric heard Kenneth rouse with a painful cough. He wished he could just send Aron away, and Osric found his wand pointing at Aron as the door swung open and he completed the spoken spell. “Itum.”

Visible, blinding, white light shot from the wand in Osric’s outstretched arm. He felt the power surging out of his mouth and down his arm, joining with the power from the wand. Osric was stunned at the strength of the power at his command. Never before had he seen light stream from his wand when he cast the spell, but it brought back terrifying memories of the first time he had used the wand and bonded with it. Although he had cast a simple spell, the blast of power from the wand burned a hole straight through the stone that had collapsed on top of him in the palace in Stanton. Osric glanced momentarily in awe at the strands of magic, entwined in a brilliant stream of white light, strangely visible without the activation of his Wand-Maker ability. The light streaked toward Aron, twisting around him in a glorious coil and growing brighter with every heartbeat.

The light pulsed so brightly that Osric pulled his other arm back to shield his eyes. Ever so slowly, the light dimmed and Osric withdrew his arm to see that Aron was gone. The two unconscious guards were all that was left as evidence of the brief but ferocious battle between Aron and himself. Osric felt both amazed and concerned by what had happened to Aron, and he suspected the results could be catastrophic. Osric was suddenly terrified that he would not make his way back to Stanton before Aron figured out where the spell had sent him. Lothaine was too close to home for Osric’s comfort.

Osric turned quickly and unlocked Kenneth’s bonds. The room was warming rapidly without Aron there to fuel his Ice Elemental gift. He helped Kenneth step away from the wall and righted a chair so he could sit and recover briefly while Osric gathered their equipment.

“What in graves was that?” Kenneth spoke quietly.

“I don’t know, but I think I may have sent him to Lothaine,” Osric answered quickly. “We need to get back to Stanton and warn the Vigiles, fast!”

Osric heard clamoring footsteps headed down the hall toward their cell. He was not about to wait around to see who was headed in their direction. So, he pictured the living quarters at his home in Stanton and spoke the familiar words.

Looming Darkness

“Sit down here. I need to contact Toby.” Osric helped Kenneth to a chair, and watched out the window for any sign of troops. It was important to let the Vigiles know what was about to happen, but the whole plan would fall apart if he were spotted by the wrong eyes.

“See if you can send down an attractive wench from the pub with food. The service at the last tavern was horrible.”

“I am afraid that nobody will be bringing us food at my home. We need to find somewhere safe, but we can’t just start appearing in people’s homes.” Osric pulled two hooded cloaks out of a chest and handed one to Kenneth. “Luckily, there’s a nasty snowstorm raging right now, and it will give us cover. We can’t be seen leaving this place.”

“And here I was hoping for a nice stroll down the street. I don’t think I can wait too much longer. I feel like I’ve been chained to a wall for three days, and I could use some fresh air.”

“Let me find out where Toby is. I’ll take us there if it’s safe.” Osric rolled his eyes at Kenneth’s sarcastic coping tactics and took out his wand. “Toby, are you alone?”

“It’s about time you showed up.” Toby’s ghostly image appeared. “I was afraid they got you this time.”

“You have no idea how close it was,” Osric answered. “Will you have a chance to speak in person, soon?”

“I am not alone,” Osric felt a moment’s uncertainty, “but these men can be trusted,” Toby answered. “Gordyn, Dru and Macgowan have been meeting with me each night to discuss the situation the Union has placed us in. Can you and Kenneth join us at the Vigile barracks? The whole building has been abandoned since the Vigiles, well, you know.”

“We can be there in a few minutes, but Kenneth is pretty banged up. Any chance you could have a healer ready when we arrive?”

“I am not sure that would be wise. They are watching us pretty closely these days. But I’ve been in several altercations through the years, so I might be able to help out a bit. If it’s beyond my abilities, I will find someone discreetly.”

“Thanks, we will be there soon.” Osric lowered his wand and the image dissipated. He turned to the window and checked the streets again. There were two Kallegian soldiers patrolling the roads outside his house and two more at the end of the street. That meant their rotation was a short one. Osric feared they must have more soldiers than his cursory survey from the forest’s edge had hinted at.

“Are you taking us to a nice warm inn filled with mead and lovely wenches?” Kenneth grinned as he attempted to stand.

“No, I’m afraid Jane would have my head for putting you in the hands of a pretty wench. You are going to have to content yourself with stale bread and the healing touch of calloused hands.” Osric helped him to his feet and prepared himself to
travel
.

“I am sure she would be lenient after the three days we’ve had. She wouldn’t want me to have to settle for bread.”

Osric smiled at Kenneth’s protest, grabbed the pack off of the table, and heaved Kenneth to his feet as he spoke the spell. The familiar lurch of the incantation pulled slightly with the weight of Kenneth on his left side. In spite of the disorienting drag, they arrived safely in the front corridor of the recruit barracks.

Osric had neglected to ask which room to meet them in, so he activated the Wand-Maker gift hoping he would find a hint in the light from their gifts. Nothing he could see indicated life beyond the stone walls, but he was surprised by the number of visible wards and spells built into the structure. Hoping someone would find them as they approached, Osric headed toward the central hall. Hints of whispers came from a hall to his left, so he veered off into the dark corridor. Osric knew why they had not lit a lamp; they were meeting in secret, and he grimaced at the implications that the threat from the Kallegian must be real.

The voices grew louder as they approached the midway point of the corridor. Osric peered into a doorway emitting a quiet conversation and saw the man he was looking for.

“Osric, it’s good to see you my friend.” Toby rose to his feet at the sight of the new arrivals. “Looks like they have gotten the better of you in this exchange, but we have had better luck here.” Two other men sat in the shadows of the room, leaning forward and talking in hushed tones.

“Kenneth got it worse than I did.” Osric supported Kenneth’s weight as they stepped into the room. Macgowan noticed the extent of his injuries and hoisted Kenneth onto the desk with little effort.

“If I had known they would be so heavy handed, I would have suggested you come along.” Kenneth looked up at the muscular man who had lifted him in the air so easily. “They would have thought twice before trying to take us if you had been there.”

Macgowan stepped back silently so that Toby could perform a cursory inspection of Kenneth’s wounds. Macgowan’s face was rigid, and his eyes gleamed with a focused rage that gave Osric pause. Whatever had transpired in their absence had changed Macgowan. It seemed his mourning had passed and his countenance was filled with a determined purpose.

“You wouldn’t be in such bad shape if you didn’t insist on taking on the world for me,” Osric replied. “You’re gonna get yourself killed trying to protect me.”

“Well, my Jane would not have thought it too brave of me to let you get hit and mar your pretty face.” Kenneth forced a weak smile as Toby cauterized a wound in his side with a brand he pulled out of the small fire. “Besides, she and I have a wager on how long you and Bridgett will take before you stop worrying about the world and give in to your hearts.” He looked up at Osric and grinned at the look of surprise on his face. “Well, at least that is what she says.”

Osric was not sure how to respond to the statement in the presence of the men who had only known him for his work with the Vigiles. Toby worked away on Kenneth’s wounds, seeming to ignore the conversation entirely, but Macgowan had held his gaze from the moment the words left Kenneth’s mouth. Osric felt his face warm with the embarrassment of the moment, and he noticed the fire light reflecting in Macgowan’s eyes; they were moist. No tears fell from the hard gaze, but there was a hint of the tenderness he had shown to his wife a few short months ago. Osric broke the stare and changed the subject as quickly as he could.

“So, what has been happening here?” he inquired to whoever would answer.

“The damned Union has been happenin’,” Gordyn answered. “They have enforced a curfew, kept the
former
Vigiles from helping those who still mourn down by the Palace, and they seem to have come prepared to build!”

“Build?”

“Yes, they have nearly doubled the size of the palace keep, and last night they started putting Vigile personnel in the dungeon. If a few of Stanton’s concerned citizens had not informed us, we may have all ended up in a cell,” Toby said, keeping his attention on Kenneth’s wounds as he applied a salve. “And they seem intent on stopping any investigation into the attack at the palace. They say they have the culprit in hand, but nobody has seen them leave with anyone in custody. Nor has anyone joined the Vigiles in the dungeon on charges of participating in the attack. If you ask me, they are here to make sure we don’t discover anything and maybe see half of us put in the ground from starvation.”

“We managed to discover who is behind all of this, but I think you may have a hard time believing it,” Osric answered as he sat down on a stool next to the desk. “I know I have a hard time believing it.”