Noster eyed Bast closely, and then, somewhat mollified, said, “Contact is better now. I can feel each and every one at this moment. The newer blood riders can execute simple orders and respond to direction. At this point it’s still not optimal to work at a distance, but once another glob explodes on an Altar Stone, the distance problem will be solved. Blood riders carrying globs are approaching the Grotto Altar Stone near Woodside Mill. Two more ride to the Tanan Shrine.” Noster paused and watched the new blood riders move out of the pool and onto the training grounds. He turned to Bast. “What about the City?”
“The Crim tea is being distributed through the Bottom cafes. The tea users are causing disturbances, and the City Troopers are beginning to use the tea as well. Bartok the Speaker of the City is ambitious and in need of funds. He is working to make the Crim tea illegal, which will further our plans. I believe Bartok may become a user of the tea. I left him with two vials of high-grade extract. He has this idea that he is the Trickster, and the tea could support him in his delusions.”
“You have done well, Bast. The next shipment of Crim tea is being barreled. You may leave when the wagons are loaded. The tea is stronger and should cause the user to throw bursts of energy in anger and then put him out of action for days. The feeling of power is so compelling that it will bring users back in spite of the consequences. So while my forces grow stronger, the City will soon be in turmoil, ripe for the picking.”
“Yes, Lord,” Bast said. “When I next return from the City all will be ready. I must prepare for my journey.” Bast bowed, Noster waved his hand in dismissal.
The City
Nance shook Bartok violently, “Wake up, sir! Wake up!”
Bartok continued to moan and thrash about the bed. Nance continued shaking him. “Wake up, wake up!”
Bartok sat up with a start, looked wide-eyed at Nance and then fell back to the pillows. “Ooh, I’m dying.”
“At one time I thought you were dead,” Nance said. “But most of the time you cried and moaned. You must have been having nightmares—or day-mares, since you were here the whole day.”
“The whole day?” Bartok rubbed his face and rolled out of the bed. He tried to stand but collapsed back to the mattress. He moaned. “Ronzal and Cara were chasing me and laughing. I kept yelling, “Stop, I’m the Trickster!” and they would laugh harder.”
The real horror Bartok couldn’t tell Nance about: the constant haranguing by the old captain, taunting revenge and destruction.
“Well, the worst is you missed the Council meeting. The Council sent a stern note of reprimand. I think they will get over your absences; you are the speaker after all. On a good note, I was able to use the money Bast provided to purchase the Old Gov Inn and the building. We can set up an office and residence on the third floor. Just the base of operation we need.”
“That is good news, Nance. Ronzal did not try to block the sale?”
“He was too late,” Nance said proudly.
“I don’t trust Ronzal, Nance. I may have an idea how to discredit him. I haven’t worked out the whole plan yet. I can’t think right now. My head is pounding. Leave me for now. I’m going back to bed.”
Twenty-One
Ridge Road
Scary became aware of two odd vibrations on the waves of the environment. The blood rider’s sensitivity to the One Wave was new and opening. As he focused on the approaching vibrations, he sensed Noster. Scary urged his horse off the road into the trees and watched for the riders.
What came into view were two of his own kind: blood riders, on weary horses, leading a number of enslaved men. No, he corrected himself. They were no longer his kind. He belonged to the Bright One; they belonged to Noster. The riders stopped, and each held up a glob, which they had in the palms of their hands. They moved their hands back and forth, and the globs pulsed and burned brightly when pointed in the direction of the Grotto Altar Stone. The blood riders put away the globs and turned their horses along the line and pushed into the trees.
Scary noted the direction the blood riders had taken. The same line he had determined for the Altar Stone. He had scouted that area the blood riders were entering and knew the passing was difficult, the ridge dropped off sharply and the brambles and poison oak were thick between the trees. Scary tapped his horse out of the tree and turned down Ridge Road to Mill Road. If he was to find the Altar Stone before them, he would have to go through Woodside Mill.
The City
Bartok swayed; he grabbed the speaker’s podium with his hand to steady himself. He took a ragged breath and said, “Now we have the matter of making the Crim tea illegal under City law.”
“Ban the Crim tea, and close the Bottom cafes while you are at it!” shouted the councilman from the Warehouse District. “Honest citizens are starting to walk about armed with swords and staffs. A group reported being chased by a screaming Trickster, cape, mask and all. Yil preserve us,” he ended breathlessly.
The councilman from Fisher Wharf agreed, “The tea is an outrage, and should be stamped out. Make the Crim tea illegal.”
Cara watched Bartok. He didn’t seem to be listening. He was gripping the podium to keep his balance. He had black circles under his eyes and two scratch marks on his left cheek. Cara said, “I vote illegal.”
The law was passed without dissent. “Meeting closed,” Bartok croaked and stumbled from the chamber before Cara could catch him. Nance had begun occupying the third floor of the Old Gov Inn, and Bartok was in a hurry to view his new rooms without any prying intrusion.
The Tanan Shrine
Olive glared at Rose, who was standing guard by the open panel on the opposite side of the Tanan Shrine. Miss Know-It-All had had the nerve to instruct Clay on how to hold his reins—Clay, who had grown up on horses! Clay didn’t seem to mind; he’d just smiled and said thank you. How does he remain so calm? Interrupting her thoughts, Master Akien, carrying a hat, entered the Altar Stone area from his rooms in the back of the shrine. He waved the three young guards toward Altar Stone.
“Thank you for coming to guard the Tanan Shrine,” Master Akien said. “The City Troop has proven unreliable as many of the troopers are using the Crim tea and are unable to perform their duties.”
“We are honored to help,” Olive said.
“Too bad we have to be with the Altar Stone,” Clay said with mock horror, “Tough duty.”
“Show some respect, Clay,” Rose scolded.
“Well,” Master Akien said raising the hat in his hand, “I do have some tough duty for you, if you’re willing.”
The three looked puzzled. Master Akien said, “Scout Big Red found this hat at the abandoned City Troop camp site at Wind Point Plateau after the Dead Wind. I would like each of you to …”
“I’ll do it!” Rose declared and darted forward and snatched the hat from Master Akien. Rose’s face distorted into a mask of rage, she screamed “Murderer! Murderer!” and clawed the air with hooked fingers. The hat dropped from her hand to the floor, and she staggered back a step. “Oh, I had no control,” she gasped. “But, thank the Red Priestess, I am not the one.”
Clay reached down for the hat. “No, Clay,” Olive warned, but too late. Clay roared with anger, “Revenge! Death!” The hat fell away, and Clay took a breath, “By Tok’s beard,” he muttered.
Olive looked at the hat on the stone floor and shrugged. “Here goes.” She picked up the hat. Her hands flung out in a strangle hold. “Kill! Kill!” The moment passed, and Master Akien retrieved the fallen hat.
“What can you tell me?” Master Akien asked.
“The force is very strong, overpowering,” said Clay.
“The energy is searching for someone,” Rose said.
“The anger is righteous and driving for revenge,” Olive concluded.
“Yes, that is the usual summation,” Master Akien said. “But did you get any hint as to the target of the anger?”
The three students looked at each other and shook their heads. “Not a clue,”
said Clay.
“What are you going to do with the hat?” Rose asked.
“I’ll keep the hat here for now, but I suspect the energy in the hat will find the target somehow. Thank you for enduring the anger. You have confirmed my thoughts. Now, go back to your stations, and be sure to walk your rounds, or you may get lost in the vibration of the Altar Stone.” Master Akien went to his rooms, and the three returned to their posts.
Three Corners
The second pair of blood riders exchanged their horses at the Three Corners stable. Not bartering with the smith, they paid his price and asked him for directions to the Tanan Shrine. Then they mounted. It was going to be a hard ride, but the smith told them they could arrive by noon.
The Butte
Noster hummed with delight, all four globs were close to their target Altar Stones. His fingers tingled on the top of the Butte Altar Stone. He could feel the pulsing of the globs and had brief moments of random contact with the blood riders, weak compared to Noster’s connection with the countless new blood riders that surrounded him. “Any moment I will be filled with power, and I will channel the force of my energy to my blood riders. They will be unstoppable.”
Woodside Mill
Grandfather Lute entered the forge and found Mark rifling the drawers of one of the workbenches. “What are you doing?”
Mark spun and with an angry look, he spat out questions of his own: “Where is the tea? Where did you hide it? I need some, now.”
“Mark, please, come away. There is no tea here.” Grandfather Lute moved toward Mark with his hand outstretched, and the young man backed away. “Give me the tea,” he said. He picked up a large camp knife from the bench and poked the blade toward Grandfather Lute. “Give me the tea!” he shouted.
Jana and Big Red entered the shop and saw Mark with the large knife. The two scouts moved around to opposite sides of the bench, with Jana standing behind Grandfather Lute. Not wanting to crowd the room, Bill and Slim peered in through the open door. Suddenly, Mark dropped the knife back to the bench top and put his head in his hands and moaned, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just need some tea.”
Shell pushed Bill and Slim away from the door and ran in, “What is wrong?” She went to Mark and took his pulse. She started humming a healing melody and led Mark out into the sun.
Everyone followed. Shell sat Mark on the bench at the outside table. “I thought he was still sleeping,” she said. “He must have snuck out when Harp and I were in the kitchen. He’ll be better with some food in him. Leave him be. All will be well.”
Satisfied, Grandfather Lute led everyone into the forge. “I had set out to make swords for Bell and the twins, hoping to instill their vibration into the blades as was done with Big Red’s sword. But the One Wave seems to have a different plan.” From below the work bench he retrieved three blanket-wrapped objects and laid them on the bench. “Jana,” he said while he unwrapped the first and pulled a sword that matched Big Red’s in style, if a bit shorter to accommodate Jana’s stature. He offered her the blade and Jana grasped the hilt. Instant recognition of her own energy filled her, and she could feel herself one with the sword. “By the One Wave!” she exclaimed. “Now I know what you were talking about, Big Red. I am one with the blade. Astounding!”
“Bill,” Grandfather Lute revealed a long broad sword, fit for someone of Bill’s size. Grandfather laughed and said. “This sword was to be for Page, but I don’t think he could lift it now.” He passed Bill the long sword. Bill grasped the hilt and shimmered with recognition. “By the Winking God, it’s me!”
“Slim, yours is the most interesting of all.” Grandfather Lute held up a blade not as long as Jana’s but instead of a chisel point the steel gently bellied in an upward curve to the point. “You can see the blade is fatter in the upper third, giving the balance a forward shift. Very interesting, it reminds me of blades I saw when I was in Bottom with the scouts.”
Slim took the blade and smile broadly with recognition of his own energy. “Like the Red Priestess.” Slim said feeling the weight of the sword in his hand. Grandfather raised his eyebrows in question. “The Red Priestess is an important reading deck figure; she is one with her sword,” Slim clarified. “This sword is close to the Blood Magic blades used in the marshal movements. This is a marvelous blade. How can I thank you?”
Jana and Bill echoed the sentiment but Grandfather held up his hand and said, “There is more.” He gave Slim five matched throwing knives that held his vibration. Bill received a large camp knife containing his energy; the handle matched that of the big sword. Jana was given a pair of narrow-bladed, double-edged knives as long as her hand, suitable for throwing but also excellent for fine work.
“There are scabbards for your blades in the bundles. We can go out to the practice ground,” Grandfather Lute suggested and stepped out the door.
In the Grotto, Bell reached for the curry brush but the Grotto pony grabbed the brush in her teeth. “Give that back.” Bell demanded with a laugh. She reached for the brush. The young horse dropped the brush and kicked the tool across the Grotto. The brush bounced and rolled against the Altar Stone. All of the Grotto ponies whinnied and stamped their hooves.
“The pony did that on purpose,” exclaimed Bell.
“No, it must have been an accident,” Book said.
“All the Grotto ponies are in on the game,” Page observed. “They all whinnied when the brush hit the Altar Stone.”
Bell felt odd energy on the waves of the environment. She and all of the Grotto ponies turned toward the area where the ridge dropped severely. Bell pointed, “Two blood riders and witless men coming from that direction. Ring the bell, Page. Book and I will take the ponies into the trees. We will meet at the entrance boulders.”
The sound of the Grotto signal bell sent Grandfather Lute out the door of the forge. “The Grotto is in danger,” he called. “I’ll ring that we’re on our way.” He trotted across the driveway to the bell hung in the oak tree. Grandfather Lute rang three times, waited a count of three and then repeated the three rings. He dropped the rope and led Jana, Big Red, Bill, and Slim to the bunkhouse.
Harp and Matt waited outside and Shell stood in the doorway. “You boys stay here and guard the mill and our backs. Shell will tend Mark. We are off to the Grotto.”
Scary slipped from tree to tree, following the mill party up the trail to the rock fall. The bright ones were wary so he hung back until the last climber stepped into the meadow.
Scary easily made the climb and saw them move among some boulders and disappear. He ran across the meadow to the rocks and began searching for the way through.
The pair of new blood riders, their horses stumbling and straining out of the bottom of the ridge, made the meadow with the enslaved men, their clothes torn and faces scratched from the brambles, staggered behind.
Entering the Grotto, Grandfather Lute called out, “Bell!” Then saw his granddaughter with her short staff and the twins, swords in hand, running toward him.
“Blood riders and witless men are on the way,” Bell said coming up beside him and the others. Slim, his sword drawn, stayed near the entrance. “They have globs,” Bell said.
“Bell, you and the twins protect the Altar Stone. The rest of us will deploy around the entrance,” Jana directed. “Bill, you stay near Grandfather Lute.”
Jana nodded to Big Red who moved next to Slim. Jana stood a pace behind them.
Scary could feel the energy of the Grotto, but the way in was hidden from him. The pair of blood riders approached the boulders, and Scary moved back out of view. The slave men ran all the way around the boulders and surrounding area but failed to find entry. The blood riders dismounted and pulled globs from their pockets. They followed the path indicated and found the hidden crevasse. Scary crept closer and saw the way. The blood riders, with hollow staves, sent the slaved men charging into the Grotto. Scary came up behind.
Three crazed men, swords held high, burst into the Grotto. Slim caught
a wild swing on his blade and kicked the man back. Big Red engaged the two running past Slim. She knocked the sword from one and swept her blade across his middle. He fell to the ground. The second enslaved man darted past as she turned.
Six more witless men and the one Slim had kicked rushed forward. Slim fought off two attackers. Three hacked at Big Red. She danced among them slashing and stabbing. One fell dead.
Two ran hard past Big Red and straight at Jana. She feinted left and tripped the runner as he stumbled past. Jana caught the other’s downward chop on her blade and spun away slashing the slave man’s hamstring. He collapsed.
Six more enslaved men entered the Grotto. The two blood riders, bringing up the rear, aimed their hollow staves and fired clear wavy energy into the fray; a witless man was struck in the back and fell dead.
Slim stepped back from a swing and struck the neck and shoulder of the witless man, who fell dead. Slim was then set upon by two more swordsmen and backed away.
One of the blood riders shouted a command, and all of the enslaved men pushed past Slim and Big Red. Big Red slashed one of them to the ground and turned to follow.
Jana bobbed and wove through the enslaved men as they dashed pass, felling two with quick sword strokes.
Bill met the onslaught with a broad stroke, killing two with one mighty swing. Grandfather Lute retreated to the Altar Stone. “Here they come,” he shouted to Bell and the twins.
The blood riders advanced. Slim drew a knife and let it fly. As the blade was in the air the blood rider fried his staff. Slim put up his sword and deflected the wave, the force of the hit smashed him to the ground, dazed. The thrown knife impaled the blood rider’s shoulder, and he stumbled back.
Bill swung his great sword in a long arc, a witless men ducked away. Bill’s blade meeting no resistance carried him around and he stumbled to the ground, where two witless men pounced on him.
The wounded blood rider stood and fired a wave at Big Red, who ducked out of the way. The wavy energy flew past and the edge of the pulse caught the twins knocking them to the ground, stunned.
The Dead Wind Page 23