Wandmaster

by Valerie Kramboviti

  With no comment, the group re-formed, John in the centre of his four and all the others in their pairs. Jet and Maylene showed no mercy as they set the pace for the remainder of the journey. They drank on their feet and did not stop to rest anywhere. A fine misty rain began to fall, though it felt more like they were running through a cloud, the clammy damp penetrating their clothing and sticking to the leather of their jerkins. John lost all sense of direction other than that they were climbing. Visibility was low and he was tired, hungry and cold, but he gritted his teeth and didn't speak. His training had improved his physical condition and he realised that he was much fitter now than he had ever been in his life, or should he say 'lives'! The thought struck him as comical and he gave a low breathless laugh as he kept pace with the others. Zak shot a look over his shoulder and was surprised to see the ironic twinkle in John's eye as he ran, immersed in his thoughts. For once, Zak didn't make a humorous comment, but smiled back at John and turned back to the business at hand; running.

  Jet's voice, muffled by the mist called,

  "Halt," and they stopped, grateful for the rest, breath coming quickly and no-one being inclined to speak.

  "We should be near Orlet Peak, so we will slow up a bit. There's not much we can see in this mist anyway, and we need to reach shelter. We will have to hole up for the night, but first we must reach our camp-site and check it out as far as possible." They wound their way on, Jet in the lead, until they reached a high point exposed on all sides to the weather. John could feel the altitude, though he couldn't see much and knew that a few feet ahead of him, the peak dropped away into he didn't know what. On Jet's command, they formed a circle pointing outwards and strained their eyes and ears in the misty gloom for any sign of life or movement. John was facing North, and beside him was Joceley, who was peering into the distance. There was nothing but the mist. Nothing visible. Nothing audible. But there was ….. something. John stiffened, straining his eyes in an effort to penetrate the emptiness and pinpoint just what it was he could sense; a darkness of spirit, a heaviness of mind. Athrak was ahead of him, he knew and he was exposed to its searching malevolence where he stood on that high peak. Ataxios could see with his orb, mist or no mist, and John felt him searching, raking the images in his dark crystal ball, trying to get closer to him, see him again. He used his shielding technique, calling to him the surrounding rock, imagining its texture and making himself more like it in essence, blending with it and communing with it. The rock stood strong under his feet and he became still as a boulder and ageless, part of the very fabric of the Realm. The darkness passed. John heard someone calling his name, and became aware of Jet at his side. All the guardians were gathered around him and were watching him uneasily, as he stood stock still, silent as the earth.

  "Wandmaster?" said Jet, with respectful concern. "What is it?"

  "I am very exposed here. Ataxios is searching these hills. He almost found me," he said, and then with sudden certainty, "He has sent forces. They are close."

  "How could that be?" queried Maylene. "If they are close, they must have known......... Are you sure, Wandmaster?" John held her eyes and said,

  "They are close and they are many!"

  Jet needed no convincing. He ordered them to fall in behind him and set off down the winding path, this time bearing off onto a track which took them back in the direction of the river to the west, and he picked up his pace. They stumbled and tripped over obstacles they couldn't see, but Jet knew where he was going. Ahead of him, John heard the strained voice of Zak saying,

  "The jagged pass. We're going to have to use it as an ambush point." He looked back at John with eyes a little doubtful. "How many, Wandmaster? Can you tell?" John tried to focus, but his body was working so hard he couldn't get any images to come into his head.

  "Can't say," was all he could pant out and Zak turned back around and concentrated on keeping up with Jet and Maylene.

  The cold mist hadn't lifted at all, but Jet was so familiar with the hills that he had no need of sight. He stopped at a narrow passage between two sheer rock faces, which loomed up suddenly before them, left and right. He split his four veterans and sent Zak and Todd off left with Ethan and Yseth, Maroth, Tye, Hathor and Joceley off to the right, and he called John and Maylene to his side as he climbed to a ledge of rock which looked directly down along the rift of the pass. There was no sound, no sign of movement, and John began to feel foolish. They should have been sheltering somewhere and sharing a bite to eat by now, not spread out along a pass waiting to ambush enemy troops only he was convinced were there. No-one had questioned him, and he now began to ask himself if he had been wrong, and had imagined the enemy crawling out of the rocks to over-run them as a result of his fear at the newness of the situation and the touch of the will of Ataxios on his mind. Maybe he had been made to fear by Ataxios himself who was now laughing at the ease with which he had played a trick on the new Wandmaster?

  As he lay flat on the rock, peering into the misty gloom beneath him, the hackles on his neck stood up and his ears registered the first sound of movement, not in the pass below them, but high above them in the rocks directly over their heads. He sensed the presence of the tall gangly spindlies he had first encountered in the battle at Wandguard recently. He signalled to Jet, who had already turned onto his back and was scanning the rocks above them for signs of life, the mist hid movement, the sound was scattered and distorted, but it was real enough. John felt at once two emotions; relief that he hadn't been wrong, and fear. He was going to need to be calm to be of any use in this battle, and he focused. He drew the wand from its sheath on his chest and clasped it to him, using it to reach for all the energy in the crystal trove in the Temple. He felt Tyloren, and tried to send the thought that they were trapped in a pass in the mountains and threatened by the enemy. There was no response from Tyloren, as far as John could tell. He left him and found Vilma. She heard him. She sent thought response instantaneously and then disappeared with the words 'Help will come'. John's first encouraging sign. His second was the sense of his Great Uncle William at his side. He felt stronger and comforted but also horribly aware that the enemy were many in number, and that, if the worst came to the worst, he would be the last one left alive of all the guardians. They were all committed to die for him rather than let him be taken. That meant one thing. He would have to protect them before they needed to protect him. His grip on the wand tightened and William Stone stood silent in his mind ready to aid his strength.

  A stone fell from above their heads. The spindlies were getting closer, and Jet, John and Maylene shrank back against the wall behind the ledge they were resting on so as not to be visible from above. In the pass below there was movement and a shrill nasal voice called something up to the position above the heads of John and his companions. It was answered by an equally nasal exclamation, but no words John could recognise. They stayed pressed back against the wall, listening hard but seeing little. The pass seemed to have filled with many voices, and John knew they were not friendly. Soon they would reach either the other guardians or John, Jet and Maylene. Jet whispered urgently to John.

  "Hold the pass!" and then to Maylene "We must hold them off this ledge!" They made their way to the access point which was, fortunately just wide enough for one to enter, and positioned themselves, one on either side waiting for the enemy to arrive.

  John set to work. He crawled forward on his stomach and peered down at the seething pass. He was shocked by the numbers he saw. He recognised his adversaries; tall, spindlies; gangly bony shapes wielding swords and swarming together like ants. His wand was in his hand and he sent his first bolt of energy down into the exit from the pass, just as the earliest spindlies reached it. The leaders fell in squealing heaps, but to John's horror, struggled to their feet again. He wasn't focused. The wand wasn't working. Again! Down they went in a writhing tangle of elbows and knees, swords thrashing and angry voices spilling out of their throats. In his panic, John sent yet another bolt down
which struck the leaders full in the face and succeeded in enraging them even further, so that they did not even fall this time, but reeled and then battled on against their pain and confusion. The wand steeled in his hand and the darkness grew in his mind as the realisation dawned on him that he had never killed with the wand and had not intended to do so, even now. The wand responded only to his desire to repel the spindlies, and not to kill them outright; he would have to feed a 'death-wish' into his attack or his friends and he would all be lost. William Stone stood at his shoulder, and the words he whispered were these.

  "Kill, but don't hate! Calm yourself and allow the wand its will."

  John called on all his training with Tyloren and felt himself giving in to the colours of the wand. The dark aggressive colours came pushing forward, and the other colours took on a secondary role, allowing the wand to forge the power of the dark crystal through its point.

  "The Will of the Wand has dominance," said William Stone.

  John, now an instrument, ceased directing the wand to do his bidding and allowed it to work in the way it knew. It surged power and emitted a dark array of black jagged lightning, which cracked and whipped on its trajectory downwards. This time, the smitten figures stayed down, and those coming behind faltered a little, before screaming nasal war-cries and climbing over their fallen comrades.

  Behind him, John could hear Maylene and Jet fighting but didn't dare to turn round and lose his hold on the scene below him. The wand did it's work. It struck out at the rocks on either side of the enemy and shattered pieces off, which flew into the masses of the spindlies, aiding the work of the crystal. The few who made it out of the exit were met by the swords of the guardians positioned there, and John could hear the sounds of battle. The guardians were hopelessly outnumbered. John wished he could be down there fighting with them, but he was doing the thing he was born for, being the Wandmaster. He called up all his concentration and sourced it through the wand. A wave of energy poured out of the tip and spread like an exploding bomb, picking up the large number of spindlies near the exit and forcing them back in a tide of energy. This gave the Guardians a chance to regroup and position themselves for the next charge.

  There were still many spindlies filing through the pass, but the wand had dealt with a great number of them and the guardians were handling those that managed to get through. As John worked, he heard loud voices coming from behind him and chanced a look over his shoulder to see Maylene and Jet pinned against the back of the ledge, having been unable to hold the access point to the rock against such large numbers. John himself was being approached by three spindlies with ugly malicious faces and raised swords. He blasted them, blasted the ones who had cornered Maylene and Jet, and for good measure, blasted everything that moved in the rock opening through which the enemy was coming. Jet and Maylene returned to their positions and got the situation under control again, so John returned to his work of supporting the guardians below. In those few minutes when he had been occupied, a group of spindlies had burst into the pass, and were being fought by the Guardians. John again sourced his power through the wand and the tirade of rocks and spikes of white fire held the masses back from the entrance. John recognised the shouts of his companions and froze at an anguished cry which could only have come from Joceley. She was down and injured, but John couldn't see her. He could only feel how seriously hurt she was, and his wand was engaged in waging war. It couldn't heal at the same time. He hoped she would be ok.

  There was a sudden inexplicable confusion among the spindlies in the pass. Their cries became agitated, and their attack less effective. John continued his support of his guardians, but could see the situation was changing. He didn't understand what was happening at first, till he heard other guardian voices to the rear of the spindlies. Help had arrived. Vilma must have reached Mandrik's group and sent them to help. The tide was turning. The ledge was no longer under attack as the spindlies seemed to have lost heart and had evaporated back up the rocky face and away from the fight zone.

  "Come on!" yelled Jet, and leaped over the dead spindlies in his way to force his way down to the valley and join his guardians as they fought the rapidly diminishing numbers of spindlies, forcing them back onto the swords of Mandrik and his group, shepherded on by Zak, Tye, Todd, Yseth, and Honeth. Maroth, Ethan and Joceley were down, and John's first thought was Joceley as he knew she was badly hurt. He found three wounded guardians lying propped up against a rock. Joceley had lost consciousness and was fading fast. He pointed the wand at the sleeping form and said "heal".

  The wand flashed angrily, but did not heal. John was horrified. He knew Joceley didn't have much time and he tried again.

  'Calm yourself John, call to mind the blue crystal in the healery,' came William's voice. John focused as best he could, but was not able to calm himself till a still serene picture popped suddenly into his vision. Althea, cool, caring and efficient presented herself in his mind, and John slipped back silently into healing from killing. The wand emitted a blue streak, which entered Joceley at the shoulder where she had been injured, and she took a deep relaxed breath and regained some colour. Honeth and Maroth had sustained flesh wounds, but they were superficial and were soon mended.

  John took a moment to rest. The sounds of fighting had died down. Guardians were emerging one by one from the pass, and Jet was issuing orders and inspecting wounds before sending his men to John for healing. Most of the Guardians had sustained some minor cuts and bruises which were easily taken care of. John didn't like to speculate on how many of the enemy had met their death that day. A tidy number of prisoners had been rounded up and were being guarded by members of the second group. Mandrik appeared at Jet's side, breathless and supporting one of his guardians, a stocky man called Jago, who was bleeding heavily from a wound in his side. John Jumped to his feet and helped to make him comfortable before attending to his injury, and was soon satisfied that he would be alright. Both he and Joceley had lost a lot of blood and were weak. They would need to be helped back to the Plain when they had rested a while and would need time in the healery.

  "You arrived just in time," said John to Mandrik.

  "Yes, fortunately we were on the alert, and some of my men picked up the trail of the spindlies coming in your direction through the high passes. Soon as we realised they were heading for you we followed on," answered the captain of the other troupe. In the meantime, Jet had joined them, and Maylene was with him. Mandrik turned to Jet with a serious expression on his face.

  "The Akryd is down in the river valley with a group of lo's," he told them. Jet's face grew serious.

  "This close to the plain? That's odd, and very worrying," he replied.

  "They were well organised and they knew what they were after," responded Mandrik with a glance in John's direction. "They knew the Wandmaster was out with us. I'm pretty sure of it. They had a 'dark box' with them; like a black cabinet on wheels. I've never seen anything like it before, though I have heard tell of it in stories." Jet listened with concern, and John in alarm.

  "I don't understand. What was the contraption for?" queried John

  "To put the Wandmaster in," said Jet simply, looking him straight in the eye. "You were to be taken to the Master. It is made of a special metal which allows nothing to penetrate it or leave it. It has been used in the past to seal off the Wandmaster and to prevent his intervention in a battle. Not even 'thought-talk' can escape from its density." John's mouth dropped open and Jet gave a grim smile. "If, of course, the Akryd didn't turn you into a lo first. They had made their plans."

  "But how did they know I was going to be here? We didn't decide ourselves till this morning!" protested John.

  "Interesting question," mused Jet and pushed the dust at his feet with the toe of his boot, his eyes downcast

  "Didn't you get some sort of danger warning from Vilma?" John asked Mandrik, "I communicated with her and asked for aid."

  "No," answered Mandrik simply "We were on our toes, and have some
good eyes among us but nobody with the ability to think-talk. Vilma will have acted but don't forget it takes some time for anyone from the plain to arrive here."

  "I suppose so," agreed John, His words were interrupted by voices from the far end of the pass and a large group of some 30 guardians appeared, running towards them. In the lead were Jazlyn and Gilladen, armed and leather-clad. They halted at a group of spindlies gathered in a niche in the rock wall on the west side of the pass. About fifteen of the guardians relieved the guards watching over them, who were battle-worn and grateful for the arrival of the back-up.

  As the tired fighters took a well-deserved rest, Jazlyn approached John's group with an anxious look on her face.

  "We got here as soon as we could. I was with Gilladen's group when you communicated with Vilma, so we left at once. We couldn't find Wes, so I told Gilladen and came with him myself." Jet's head shot up, and he looked at Jazlyn.

  "What do you mean, couldn't find him?" he asked.

  "Well, he wasn't anywhere that I searched. And I got other people to look too, but there was no sign of him. Gill hadn't seen him either. Is he ill or something?" she asked.

  "Or something.......," breathed Jet.

  "What?" asked Jazlyn, but Jet gave no further reply. He looked at John, and his thoughts betrayed him.

  Jet obviously thought Westroth's absence suspicious. John thought it wise to say nothing, but Jet could see that he had read his thoughts, and he gave a faint nod which was barely visible. Jazlyn, perceptive as always, became aware of the exchange, and her own eyes widened in horror at the idea that Wes's disappearance could be anything but co-incidental. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jet gave her such a stern stare that she shut it again promptly and an awkward silence followed.

  The weather had cleared some, but night was falling. Under the circumstances, Jet took the decision to return to Wandguard Plain that night rather than camp out. He formed a select group which he was to lead, made up of John, Jazlyn, Zak, Todd, Maylene, Yseth and Tye. This was the Wandmaster group, and was to get back to the plain as soon as possible. Jet went off to consult with Gilladen and organise the remainder of the Guardians into coherent groups which would follow on behind at a slower pace bringing the prisoners and the wounded. John returned to see the injured members of the party and gave further healing to Jago and Jocelyn in order to strengthen them for the return journey, and he was tending them with concern when he felt Jazlyn at his shoulder. He stood and looked at her, a genuine smile of pleasure spreading across his face.