Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  Out of curiosity, he stretched a strand of the bond across his eyes and switched to spirit sight. Each blue and gold strand of magic was coated with a fine smoky twist of spirit magic. He reached out with his own magic and used his miniscule talent in fire magic to produce two small red strands. He shaped them like a tiny pair of clippers and tried to cut one of the threads. To his surprise, it snapped in two. As he had done with the barriers in Ewzad Vrill’s castle, Justan began plucking at the strands in an attempt to pull the magic apart.

  A stab of pain shot through his chest and an icy cold radiated from the rune. Justan reached up and felt frost caking the front of his shirt. He let go of the web of magic blocking the bond and eased back. To his relief, the tiny bit that he had unraveled stayed in place, the frayed ends of the magic unmoving. Justan was paralyzed with uncertainty. Should he continue to destroy the spell and find out what was behind the blockage? Should he try to weave it back together?

  “Sir Edge!” Justan felt rough hands grab his shoulders.

  Justan switched off the mage sight and opened his real eyes. Master Coal stood in front of him. His eyes were ringed with worry. Qyxal had put his book down and was running over to them.

  “I am okay, sir. I was just-.”

  “Gather your friends together,” the Master said. “I have been speaking with Willum. The Battle Academy was attacked early this morning. They are under siege.”

  Chapter Thirty Four

  “What about Wobble, Coal?” Lenny asked. “Were the dwarves attacked?”

  “I am sorry. I don’t know, Lenny. I will ask Willum the next time we speak. He’s on duty at the academy’s outer wall until late tonight and I cannot communicate with him from this distance unless both of us are completely focused.”

  The air was tense in the main room of the lodge. Everyone had questions for the master, but Coal had refused to give any details on the siege until his wife, Benjo, Lenny, and Bettie had arrived. Fist was on his way from Miss Nala’s farm, and there wasn’t room for Gwyrtha in the lodge, so Justan kept the ogre and rogue horse abreast of the situation through the bond.

  “We should leave tonight,” Justan said. “The sooner we arrive, the less entrenched they will be.”

  “Just a minute, now,” Becca said, her lip quivering with fear. The news had come while she was preparing the baked goods for the evening meal and her arms and apron were still covered in flour. “I am afraid for Willum too, but there are not enough of you to take on an army.”

  “Becca, dear,” the wizard laid a hand on her arm. “We aren’t going to do anything foolish.”

  Justan didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t care how big that army is. I can’t just sit here safe, while-!”

  Coal slammed his fist on the table. “Sir Edge! Don’t get ahead of yourself. We must let all the facts be known before we make any decisions.”

  “Coal’s right,” Lenny said. “Yer the one with the strategic mind, Edge. You dag-gum know to think before you strike.”

  “What more do I need to know?” Justan said. “I can tell you already that the academy has withstood sieges before. They have defenses in place and stores in supply for just this kind of situation. But this army is different from the ones they have faced in the past. It is led by Ewzad Vriil.”

  “I know what yer sayin’ son, but-.”

  “My mother lives in Reneul, Lenny,” Justan said with a glare.

  “If you would have let me speak, I could have told you already,” Coal said. “I asked Willum about your mother specifically. She is safe inside the academy walls along with any of the citizens of Reneul that had nowhere else to go. The rest fled elsewhere.”

  Justan sighed in relief. Darlan was okay.

  Coal continued, “Thanks in part to the report we sent to the academy, they had already begun preparations before the attack began. For the last several weeks they had been building up their stores and are prepared to stand firm for months. The army will starve before they do.”

  “That’s well and good, but Ewzad Vriil doesn’t seem to be a patient man,” Qyxal reminded. “What if he uses his magic to tear the walls down?”

  “He can’t,” Justan admitted. “At least not directly. The Mage School reinforced those walls after the War of the Dark Prophet. They are just as impervious to magic attack as the walls surrounding the Mage School.”

  “We may not have to worry about Ewzad Vriil getting involved directly,” Master Coal added. “Right now his position is Lord Protector to the Queen. He has to stay at her side.”

  “Coal’s got a point,” Lenny said. “The gall-durn made-up threat against the queen is the only thing they got keepin’ the Dremald armies out of the fight and Vriil worryin’ about Elise’s safety’s the only thing keepin’ the people on the wizard’s side. I tell you right now, I done been in Dremald a long time. The nobles hate that varmint. I bet you they’re just itchin’ to get rid of his blasted hide. If Ewzad Vriil was seen among the army assaultin’ the academy, the nobles’d cause such a scene that the next thing you know, there’d be a revolt.”

  “Still, even if he isn’t on the actual battlefield, he could be a problem. Who knows what kinds of beasts he could send with the army?” Justan imagined enormous armored beasts designed for the purpose of climbing the walls and shuddered.

  “But surely the Mage School will help,” Becca said, a gleam of hope in her eye. “With all those wizards, there’s no need for you all to get involved.”

  “The Mage School will help in whatever way they can to be sure, Becca,” Coal said. “But they’re not soldiers. They cannot fight on an open field without an army to stand behind.”

  The door opened and Fist ducked inside. The ogre was sweating from his run to the keep. He lumbered over to sit next to Justan and laid a heavy arm across his shoulder. I will fight, he promised.

  “How badly is the academy outnumbered?” asked Benjo. The man had been sitting there so silently that Justan had forgotten he was there.

  “The last count Willum had heard was thirty-five thousand goblinoids to their four thousand inside the academy walls,” Coal said. “And more beasts stream in from the hills every hour.”

  “Them odds don’t sound good,” Lenny said. “Goblinoids ain’t usually that hard to fight, but . . . dag-gum.”

  “The numbers are pretty overwhelming,” Justan said, his head down. “Four thousand sounds optimistic. The last count I heard before I left was about five hundred graduates and teachers and two thousand students. The rest of their numbers most likely come from this year’s trainees and any of the citizens of Reneul they could find that knows how to lift a sword.”

  Even Master Coal had nothing to say to that. The room fell silent as everyone brooded. Then Fists enormous hand clenched Justan’s shoulder.

  We will win, the ogre sent. Tell them.

  Justan looked over at Fist in surprise. The ogre’s gaze was firm and he gave an encouraging nod. Justan could have slapped himself. Fist was right. What was he doing bringing everyone down?

  “But then again, numbers are deceptive,” Justan said, his voice raised. He did his best to exude confidence. “The academy is actually pretty well situated. They only need a couple hundred men to hold the walls. With four thousand, they will be able to take shifts even during a concentrated attack. They have their own protected well in the center of the fortress. Until they run out of pitch, arrows and food, they should be fine.”

  “Yes!” Fist pounded the table with one great fist in agreement. “The Barldag Army will fight each other. Goblins hate ogres. Ogres hate giants. Everyone hates trolls. Trolls eat everything.”

  “Hah!” Bettie said. “That’s right, ogre. All the academy has to do is sit tight and that goblinoid army will defeat itself!”

  Coal nodded. “I don’t know how Ewzad Vriil has been keeping the army together this long but I hope Fist and Bettie are right.”

  “So what do we do?” Qyxal asked.

  All eyes were focused on Master
Coal. No matter what the wizard said, Justan knew what he was going to do. He just hoped that he wouldn’t have to do it against his master’s wishes. Coal placed a gentle hand over his wife’s and she smiled at him hopefully. He gave her an apologetic shake of his head.

  “We leave tomorrow.” He stood. “We can’t just sit back here and do nothing. If this army overtakes the Battle Academy, the Mage School could very well be next.”

  Justan smiled with relief. We fight, he thought.

  We fight, Fist and Gwyrtha replied.

  “Don’t I have any say in this?” Becca said, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Dear, would you have me leave Willum there without my support?”

  “Of course not!” she said. “But wouldn’t you be of more help if you stayed here and tried to raise support from Razbeck?”

  “I will send new messages to the MageSchool and to the king of Razbeck asking for assistance this very evening. But I know already that their support will be limited. I am going with Sir Edge. Together we will make sure that Willum is safe.”

  “I’m going too,” Bettie said. “And so is Samson, of course.”

  “You can’t just pile out and leave us all alone!” Becca turned to Fist, her voice shaking, her eyes pleading. “What about you, Fist? Will you stay here with us? Nala and the kids would miss you so.”

  “No. Justan leads the Big and Little Peoples. If we go to war against the Barldag army, he needs me.” The ogre pounded his chest with one hand. “I am his fist!”

  “Becca, dear, you are right. We can’t all go,” Master Coal said. “Benjo, I am sorry, but I need you to stay behind.”

  The large man’s jaw dropped in surprise. “But father! I can fight!”

  “I know, and that is why you must stay. With Samson, Bettie, and I gone, we can’t leave the community unprotected. Becca will be in charge of running the farms, but I need you here to defend them.”

  “You can do it, Benjo,” Justan said. “You are one of the best I have ever seen with the spear. You would have made the academy for sure.”

  “Yes you are,” said Fist.

  “They’re right,” Bettie affirmed, slapping one greenish hand on the man’s shoulder. “You’ve been training with that group of guys from the farms. They’re getting pretty good. You keep it up every night and you’ll have your own military. The farms won’t even miss us.”

  “And Becca,” Coal said. “I am sorry, but-.”

  She ripped her arm from his grasp. “You will need provisions for the journey,” she said. She straightened her apron and fled into the kitchens.

  “What about you, Lenny?” Justan asked. The dwarf was heading for the door.

  “Well of course I’m goin’, dag-blast it! I was gonna go back to Wobble sooner or later anyway. Now ‘scuse me so’s I can go stay up all night finishin’ my gall-durn work!” The dwarf scowled and threw the door open before storming outside mumbling to himself, “What’re they thinkin’? Leavin’ first thing in the mornin’, my hairy dwarf . . .”

  “I’m going with you too,” Qyxal said. “At least part of the way. I need to get to my people. Maybe I can convince them to come and help.”

  “Thanks, Qyxal,” Justan said.

  Everyone filed out of the lodge to prepare and Justin stood wondering what to do. He itched to act now. It was only mid afternoon and they weren’t leaving until the following day. His regular schedule was thrown out at this point. Perhaps he should pack, but in all truth, he had nothing much to pack. The only thing that he had accumulated in Coal’s Keep was knowledge, a few extra shirts, and of course, Deathclaw.

  “Oh,” he said aloud. What was Deathclaw going to do about this new development? Would he follow them as they traveled to the Battle Academy? The raptoid didn’t particularly trust them. This made things even more complicated. Justan had no idea how to handle his new bonded while standing still, much less on the move.

  Justan headed up to his room and gathered his belongings together. He opened his pack to put them away and frowned. In the bottom of the pack was a torn bundle of richly embroidered silk. Why was that there? He couldn’t remember where it had come from.

  He reached in, and as soon as his fingers touched the fiber, a sense of unease crept up his arm. Then he remembered. It was the dark jeweled dagger he had taken from Ewzad’s castle. He had brought it with him all this way intending to show it to Master Coal. Why hadn’t he? Perhaps there was still time before the wizard became too busy. But . . .

  Justan withdrew his hand. There was no need to show it to Master Coal now. The wizard didn’t need another distraction with all the preparations going on. He closed the pack and reached for his extra clothing, but paused. The very fact that he felt reluctance to show Coal the dagger made Justan think that it might be best if he did.

  He reopened the pack and stared at the bundle with indecision for a moment longer before finally placing the rest of his belongings inside. He couldn’t see how the dagger would help them with their current situation. He would find time to show it to Master Coal while on the trail. They had a long journey ahead after all and there would be plenty of opportunities. He definitely wouldn’t forget again.

  Justan finished packing and sat on his bed. He mentally prepared for a moment, then closed his eyes and reached out to Deathclaw. The raptoid was once again high in a tree outside the keep, nursing his searing headache while watching the movements of the humans walking about. Justan didn’t quite know how to phrase what he needed to say, so he delayed and just listened.

  Deathclaw was waiting for Justan to appear. He wasn’t sure why the human was so fascinating to him, but he knew that their connection, no matter how disturbing, was somehow important. He was also pretty sure that Justan was somehow responsible for the pain in his head. He had considered leaving several times, thinking that the pain might fade with distance, but whenever the thought had come up, he hadn’t been able to force himself to leave. The truth was that he really had nowhere to go.

  That was the thought that Justan needed to hear.

  We are leaving, Deathclaw, he sent. Will you come with us?

  Deathclaw hissed at him and pushed his presence away. Whenever the human spoke, his headache roiled. Why did Justan’s thoughts continue to assail him? Get out!

  Justan held firm, refusing to budge. He wanted to try again to explain the bond, but knew that Deathclaw would not understand. Then he thought of the memories he had seen in Deathclaw’s mind the night they were bonded and knew what he needed to say.

  In the morning we leave to make war. Justan sent an image of Ewzad Vriil through the bond. Deathclaw stopped fighting. For a moment, his headache faded as fear and anger flooded the bond and Justan added, We fight the wizard you hate. Justan inundated Deathclaw’s mind with Fist’s memories of the wizard marching into Jack’s Rest and commanding Tamboor’s family put to death. He let him feel some of the ogre’s horror and pain. We hate him too.

  He showed Deathclaw his own memories of being paralyzed by Ewzad, the fear he had felt as the man with the writhing fingers had commanded him dragged through a portal just like Deathclaw’s sister had been. We have fought him before. He showed the raptoid the battle in the throne room in Ewzad’s castle.

  He marches on my people now. Justan sent him images and memories of the Battle Academy and its proud history, of the city of Reneul and of the love Justan felt for his mother. He showed him a vision of Ewzad leading an army against the academy and Reneul. Showed him the people trapped by his army. Justan stopped the flood of images. We go to fight him again. Will you join us?

  Deathclaw was shaken by the assault to his senses. He did not understand how the human had shown him these things. Many of the feelings that had been poured into him were so foreign and yet at the same time, he understood. The wizard that had changed him, this Ewzad Vriil, was still out there. He clenched his jaw and hissed. This was what he had been searching for. This was a purpose he could latch onto. Yes, he could fight the wizard. He co
uld destroy the wizard.

  I will go, Deathclaw sent.

  Good, Justan said. We will need you.

  Deathclaw’s headache chose that moment to rush back in. The raptoid pulled away from Justan’s presence slightly. It was true that he intended to kill the wizard but he still did not know if he could trust this human.

  Justan’s own head was reeling from the intensity of Deathclaw’s pain. Will you allow me to heal you?