“It’s their magic, I tell you. The wizards have brought a curse on the whole town.” The old, weather-beaten farmer waved his fist in the air for emphasis and scowled about the room with a reddened face. He eyed several of the men in turn, daring them to give challenge. “I say, enough. Let’s rout them out and drive them from the city. We’ve worked hard every day so they can sit on all our gold in their keep. If we can’t drive them off ... We kill them.”
There was a long moment of dread silence throughout the warehouse. More than one head scanned nervously about the room. None had ever spoken so openly against the wizards before and even though none of the sorcerers was present, the mood of the crowd was wary. The simple folk present expected nothing less than a bolt of lightning to come and strike the farmer dead. As the minutes passed and the unspeakable wrath of the wizards failed to manifest, the mood of the crowd began to change. They began to stir.
As if bidden by some silent cue, a roar of shouting and cheering rose up and the thunderous applause echoed throughout the building. “Hold on! Hold on!” A man raced up through the crowd, desperately trying to reach the old farmer so that he might speak. He wore the insignia of the town magistrate, and behind him a dozen armored guards fanned out into the room.
“What do you want, magistrate?” the old farmer said with a glare full of both confidence and menace. After all, he had insulted the wizards and lived. The magistrate before him was only a political figure; he had no real power.
“Duradan,” the magistrate said, “you ought to know better than this. This ‘meeting’ is illegal and totally uncalled for. I have half a mind to arrest everyone here.” A loud murmuring spread through the crowd, a murmuring of discontent mixed with fear. “But at the request of Count Arkwin, I’ll be lenient and let you all go home. The wizards are a valued part of this city, they offer protection, security, and provide a great deal of stimulus for trade and wealth. Each of you owe more to the guild than you realize—”
“The wizards are evil!” Duradan screamed. That brought a shriek of disbelief and fear from several members of the crowd and Duradan straightened. Superstition or no, he had made up his mind. “I say it’s high time we did something about it.”
“Duradan!” The magistrate’s sharp voice cracked like a whip. “This meeting is over. If you persist I’ll arrest—”
“Didn’t you hear of the Blood Woman?” Duradan’s face turned purple with rage. “She killed all those people at that inn and wouldn’t die until a stake was driven through her heart and her body burned to ashes. That’s the work of magic I tell you, and magic is the work of wizards!” A shout rose up from the crowd and several of the guardsmen looked around in concern. They were well-armed and well-trained, but they were only twelve in number. If this crowd grew agitated, they could be swept away in moments.
The magistrate clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. “Duradan ... Have you gone mad? Don’t you realize that the Blood Woman is nothing more than a rumor? Do you want to know the real story? The Blood Woman was a prostitute who killed the man she was with to rob him. By the Sickle, man! Stakes through the heart? Are you insane?”
At this point, Thelliun stood. “Magistrate, you are a fool. I worked at the wizards’ guild. I never saw this Blood Woman, but I tell you I drove a wooden stake through a dead wizard’s heart and he screamed. Did you hear me? A dead man screamed.” Thelliun’s voice rose to a shout as the rumbling amidst the crowd grew. “These creatures that plague this town are called vampires! And the wizards have brought them to us!”
The enraged magistrate whirled on Thelliun and motioned to a guardsman. “That’s it! You’re under arrest!”
Duradan launched himself atop an old crate and screamed at the top of his lungs. “The city government is hereby cast down! Take them! Take them!”
“Duradan! Shut up! You’re going to prison too!”
The crowd erupted in a maddened frenzy. A dozen armored guards were no match for the swarming peasantry and within moments they were overcome. Their weapons and armor were stripped from them, and they, with the magistrate at their side, were bound and gagged.
Duradan picked up one of the guardsmens’ swords and strolled over to the captive men. He leveled the weapon at the magistrate’s throat. “You may be the ruler, but we’re the ones you rule. Push us too far, and we’ll cut you down.” He turned to the still milling and enraged crowd. “To the guild! To the guild! Let’s get the wizards next!” The shout was taken up and the crowd rushed into the darkness of the night. Within moments, four dozen torches were burning and a veritable army of peasants moved through the streets. They began to chant. “Bring down the guild! Bring down the guild!”
And their numbers were growing.
Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 70