by Jeff Inlo
"I do, you know," Enin said almost apologetically. "I haven't forgotten about my first home. I know I spend all of my time here in Connel. I even brought my dogs here, but I always keep an eye on Burbon."
"I know... and so do they, but there's no room for them."
"No room," Enin announced more to himself, as if he began to see the true issue. "Yes, I can imagine. Your wall sets a boundary. We have a wall here, too. The old stone bulwark built eons ago by the dwarves. They remain very proud of it. I think that's why they're so willing to work with Connel. There's a genuine link here."
Sy did not wish to downplay the relationship with the dwarves, but he needed to address his own problem before Enin wandered too far off on another tangent.
"That's fine for the dwarves, but what about Burbon? We can't just build outside and beyond the wall like they did here in Connel. We don't have the resources to defend outside the wall. We start putting up shacks that we can't protect and that really would be like ringing a dinner bell."
Enin let out a heavy breath—not a sigh of frustration, but a realization that the problem required more of his focus. He placed an image of Burbon in his mind. He didn't cast a sight spell that would allow him to see the specific conditions, but he allowed the reflection of magic to fill his consciousness with the proper perspective.
A general image of the small town filled the wizard's thoughts. He could see the straight roads and the evenly spaced houses. He saw order in design, and stability in practice. The walls and towers surrounding the town offered defense, but they also placed strict limits on the population.
"Hmm... lack of space is what it really comes down to. I wonder if I could address that with a spell. I don't think I'd want to actually alter the geography. The consequences would be worse than the original problem. The walls would probably collapse... buildings, too."
"That's not going to help," Sy agreed.
"Well, if I can't make Burbon larger in reality, perhaps all I need to do is adjust the perception of the people. Maybe just a simple illusion spell would work—make everything seem larger. The space would really be the same, but it would feel as if there was more room. People don't really need all the space they think they do, they just like extra room. The illusion spell could handle that. What do you think?"
"Messing with our perception? I don't like that at all. How are my guards supposed to handle threats if they're under some spell that affects their perception of space?"
"The spell wouldn't quite work that way. People wouldn't start running into each other or even buildings because they thought things were further away. It's more of altering their comfort level. It would be like removing the fear from someone who couldn't stand being in a tight place. They would know exactly how far something was from them, but they wouldn't feel threatened by close proximity."
"I think you'd just be fooling them. It's a temporary fix at best. Like I said, more keep coming each day. That's the real problem. My sergeant pointed the same thing out to me. Even if you make everyone comfortable with a crowd, at some point we're going to bust at the seams."
Enin sighed, but he agreed with the point. It would only buy time, and he had no idea how much more time Holli and Ryson needed to address the true cause of the problem. He turned the issue over in his mind and decided to attack it from another direction.
"Can you convince them to come to Connel?"
"I've tried. I even told them that's where you live now, but it hasn't helped. I think they're afraid of what happened here with the goblins. They've heard the stories of when the goblins took the city."
Enin thought of how the serp Sazar conquered Connel with a goblin army. It had occurred many seasons ago, but it was not something easily forgotten. Stories of the invasion spread east. The soldiers from Fort Nebran that assisted in freeing Connel from the goblin horde had served across the lands. It was the defeat of the goblins that finally brought the dwarves and humans together. It was a story that was becoming popular in every tavern and inn. It was not surprising that Connel's history was known to people from across the central plains and beyond.
From the information gathered from the refugees, the appearance of goblins in the Great Valleys caused much of the chaos in their previous homes. The dark creatures did not overrun towns, conquer cities, or plunder farms, but they had somehow become a force in the entire region. Could Enin blame anyone who sought to escape goblins for wishing to avoid a city that was once infested with a goblin horde? He could not.
He did not, however, wish to give up on the plan so easily. Connel could certainly handle the influx of refugees far better than Burbon.
"I can guarantee them safety from the goblins," the wizard announced. "I don't care how large the horde, I will never allow goblins to take Connel again."
"I'm sure that might induce some, but they also seem to be apprehensive of cities. Many of these people are farmers or people from very small towns and outposts. That's why they came to Burbon in the first place. I mean look around, Enin. Has this placed doubled in size in the past few seasons? Tripled? Connel is getting uncomfortable even for me. These people would rather live in tents outside the wall of a small town than enter a city of this size."
"So they will overcrowd a small town as opposed to enter a large city?" Enin asked.
"I didn't say it made sense. I'm just trying to tell you how I see it. Even if you guarantee them protection from goblins, even though they're facing goblin raids at Burbon every day, most of them still won't come to Connel."
Enin paced about for several moments. He mumbled to himself. At times, he tapped his hands together in a random beat to his silent contemplations but eventually returned them to behind his back. With an idea forming, he spun about and refocused his attention on Burbon's captain.
"Very well. They won't come here and they can't stay with you. Put them in Pinesway."
Sy found the proposal intriguing, if not surprising. He never even considered Pinesway, and he blurted out his immediate understanding of the small town to the west of Connel that neighbored Burbon and was also very near Dark Spruce Forest.
"Pinesway is abandoned."
"Which makes it perfect," Enin responded, still contemplating the full measure of the solution. "It's a small town that can house thousands—if done properly. No one has to be displaced and there is plenty of room. There are structures already in place."
"Many of them are falling apart."
Enin nodded, but he did not let that detail detract from the possible gains. It could be dealt with quickly and he believed he knew how.
"The dwarves will be happy to assist in that matter. They can build and reinforce structures almost as fast as I could create illusions."
That was certainly true. Sy had seen for himself how fast a small contingent of dwarf builders could construct a sturdy home. There were, however, other concerns.
"The town's not totally abandoned, either. You're not the only one who's thought of using Pinesway. Bandits returned after that little fight Holli had with the magic casters."
"Another problem that can be solved with the dwarves. They will assist with construction and patrols. Do you know of any bandits that would want to strike a dwarf war party?"
"No," Sy allowed. It was sounding more and more like a workable solution, but Sy focused quickly on all the implications of such an arrangement. He was no town manager, but he was an effective leader. It was under his guidance that Burbon survived the return of magic as opposed to falling into disarray as had so many other small towns. He followed the path of the solution to its end and considered all the costs. "The dwarves aren't going to do this just because we ask them. They're going to want to be paid. We don't have the money."
That was very true, but Enin saw yet another opportunity to enhance the relationship between the dwarves and the humans.
"Yes, they will expect payment, and the refugees will have to earn their keep. Dunop is always in need of timber. Have the people clear some of the
encroaching trees from Dark Spruce, as well as most of the dead wood from within the forest near the town borders. It has been many seasons since the return of the magic and very few loggers have entered Dark Spruce in that time."
Enin rubbed his hands together with growing satisfaction. He saw the rewards of another human town prospering with the aid of dwarves.
"I realize Dark Spruce remains dangerous," the wizard continued, "sending humans into the forest will require even more dwarf guards and that will increase the cost. It will, however, be a mutually beneficial arrangement. The dwarves will build and guard. The humans will help and supply materials. If the refugees are truly farmers and people of small towns, they will be quite comfortable in working for their security and shelter."
The plan actually sounded as if it could work and Sy saw added benefits to Burbon. Not only would it remove the refugees from outside the wall and from the roads within, it might ultimately remove Pinesway as a trouble spot. He never liked the idea of a haven for bandits so close to his town's borders. There was just one last hurdle to clear.
"Someone is going to have to be in charge of this... manage it. I can't spare anyone and my first responsibility is to Burbon. With Ryson gone, I shouldn't even be here."
"I agree. I would not ask any more of you. I will send someone to help you. There are enough managers here. The dwarves are also very organized. I have to tell you, it's much easier to work with them than I imagined. I will deal with them directly, at first. I believe it will work."
Sy allowed a smile to soften his hardened features, but only for a moment.
"I hope so. Well, I have to get back to Burbon, but there is one more thing... it might be important."
"What's that?" Enin asked with no apparent frustration towards another possible dilemma.
"I was able to get one of the refugees to open up a bit on why he left. He didn't give a lot of detail, but he said more than they usually say. He talked about his crops dying, but not in a normal way. It scared him. You know what it reminded me of? The first time the magic returned and people had to deal with dark creatures. They knew something was wrong, but describing it made them feel... I don't know... insane maybe."
"I remember it well. It was difficult to accept what was happening. Look at me. I'm now a wizard."
"That's my point. Take yourself back to the time when we didn't know about all this magic. If I came up to you and said you were going to be a powerful wizard, what would you have said to me?"
"I would have thought you were drunk."
"Or crazy. People didn't like to talk about what was happening, even when monsters were walking through the streets."
"And you think that's why these refugees have been somewhat evasive in their answers?"
"Actually, yes, but I think it goes beyond dark creatures."
"Interesting. You think some use of magic is behind the exodus out of the valleys?"
"Maybe, you'd know better than I would about that, but I think something evil is out there, something that's hard to define. I think the farmer I spoke to could sense it. What it all has to do with magic... that I don't know."
"This is all very interesting. I have to think on this a while."
"Well, I hope it helps, but as I said, I have to get back to Burbon."
Sy turned to leaved, but then remembered a task that Ryson's wife had asked of him.
"Any word from Holli and Ryson?" the captain inquired while looking back to the wizard.
"No direct word, but I know they are reaching a critical stage. When I focus on Holli, I can usually sense what she is feeling. She believes she is nearing an answer. As to what it is, I'm not sure. Maybe it will help explain what you've told me. I think I'll have greater information in the next few days. What happens after that is anyone's guess."
"But they're alright?"
"Yes, they're fine. I would know if something happened to them."
"Linda will be happy to hear that."
Enin smiled at the thought of Ryson's wife. He understood the burden she faced, always worrying about her husband but allowing him the freedom to explore as a purebred delver.
"Tell Linda I said hello and that Ryson is in good hands. Holli won't let anything happen to him. She's an elf guard."
"I've told her that, but it'll make her feel better to hear it again. I'll let her know. Thanks. I really have to get going. I'm not looking forward to traveling at night, but I've been gone too long."
"Would you like an escort?"
"No, but can you alert the guard here that I'll be heading to Burbon. I'd hate to be stopped by a patrol near the gate."
"I'll let them know."
Enin quickly addressed a guard outside his tent and bid him to deliver the message to the patrols. He then returned to Sy, shook his hand, and nodded with another smile as he watched the captain leave.
With the thought of Ryson and Holli fresh in his memory, Enin decided to focus on the elf guard who also served as his apprentice. His perception flowed across the link between them, over great distances, and probed the most pressing concerns of the elf. He did not reach deeply into her thoughts, just glanced past her mind like a beam of sunlight that narrows through a drifting cloud and reflects off a still pond.
With that one light touch, he became grateful he made contact after Sy had left. If he made the attempt in the captain's presence, Sy would have sensed the unease that filled the wizard. Sy Fenden was no spell caster, but he had the sharp eye of a trained soldier and the intuition of a effective leader. It was best that Sy could return to Linda without carrying any additional burden of worry.
Enin knew he would get no more sleep that night. His muscles tightened. His breath shortened. It felt like he faced an impending and unavoidable physical confrontation, as if a shag stalked him in the night. His body coursed with the same degree of tension that flooded Holli's consciousness, but he lacked the conditioning of an elf guard. His ability with magic set him far above almost every other being in Uton, but his physical talents matched those of an average middle-aged man.
The elf was not in any immediate danger. Enin knew that to be true. He also knew that Holli had made significant progress in her search for answers. She was narrowing in on the cause of chaos in the valleys, but her overriding concern shifted and centered upon the well-being of the delver. Ryson had beckoned her by utilizing beacon stones. The elf guard couldn't be certain, but she was prepared to face extreme peril.
An image of goblins danced across the wizard's mind, but that was a hopeful wish. Holli didn't believe the diminutive monsters posed a true hazard—not to her and probably not to Ryson— and thus that whisper of a notion quickly faded. Instead, another creature came to the forefront of Enin's consciousness. He could almost feel his body temperature rise from both the heightening of Holli's distress and the physical properties of the dark creatures that fed Holli's concerns. A clear figure etched itself in Enin's awareness.
Inferns.
It was only mildly surprising. The wizard had plucked distant fears and anxieties from the minds of the refugees in previous hopes of uncovering the reasons for their flight from the valleys. While the apprehension over goblins remained clear—almost tangible—other anxieties proved less certain. The refugees chose to leave because they sensed a growing evil in the land itself. The farmers perceived near hostility from the very ground that held their livelihoods. Inferns could generate just such fears.
Enin knew Ryson and Holli would remain careful and their unique abilities would serve them well under such conditions. Still, he would keep his attention focused on the lands to the east. While he would not risk disturbing Holli's concentration, he would hold a silent vigil until he was certain no harm would befall them.
Chapter 13
Ryson could hardly bear the uncomfortable heat that hung in the tavern. It felt as if there were roaring fires burning in every corner. The only two fireplaces within the room, however, were dark. Only the flames from small lamps and candles li
t the inn, and any stoves for cooking were far removed from the main room of the pub.
Tugging at his shirt collar in an effort to ease the grip of warm cloth sticking to his skin, Ryson decided to leave. Nothing else could be gained from questioning the remaining patrons. The humans kept to themselves, avoiding eye contact and caring little for the presence of strangers. The goblins that remained at their back table had retrieved their coins and returned to their game of rolling shag eyes, though they played with much greater restraint.
He rose from his seat at the table where the woman merchant had left him. With casual ease but growing discomfort, he moved slowly to the door. No one watched him. The humans wished to avoid any attention—that was clear from the start—and the goblins cared only for their game. He could leave without notice. Despite the lack of interest by those around him, he could not bring himself to open the front door, even as he stood within arm's length of the door handle.
It was more than a premonition or some vague sense of foreboding that brought him to a halt. A heaviness hung over him that emphasized the uncomfortable warmth. His chest grew tight, and he struggled to breathe normally. His focus forward remained clear, but it felt almost as if he was looking through horse blinders. His peripheral vision picked up the movements of those around him, but they seemed to swim in a light mist.
Sweat started to form heavily on his forehead. The room was so oppressively hot it began to make him more than simply uncomfortable. His stomach twisted into knots and he felt everything closing in on him, as if there was no space to move.
Trying to brush away the sensation as nothing more than tension built up from his investigations, Ryson wiped his brow and then his hand on his shirt. His palm remained wet as his clothes were damp from his own sweat even as his mouth went dry. He felt as if he was standing in front of a steam furnace which threatened to boil the skin off his bones. He reached for the door handle with a growing desire to break free from the heat, to dash out into the streets and find some place of cool refuge.