The Whispers of War [Wells End Chronicles Book 2]

by Robert Beers

  Corporal McKenit started and looked up from his patching of Doward's wound. “Not too strong? The man's dug a tunnel in a few hours where it'd taken four dozen men to do the same in months.”

  “That's the difference between men's muscles and magik, Corporal. If there's going to be more of these shapers involved in this war I'd suggest we remember that.” Bilardi bent and looked into the tunnel himself, “How do we get him out without killing him?”

  “Why worry about that Cap'n? Man's an enemy, better off dead.” McKenit pointed at the prisoners with his chin, “Should do the same with them.”

  “You do that, Corporal McKenit, and you'll force me to defend them.” Adam walked over and stood in front of McKenit, fingering the hilt of his sword.” One of the things I've read about since becoming an officer in this Guard is that there are rules to war. One of them is the duty of the victor regarding the care of his prisoners. I'd be forced to see that they remained unmolested. How's your sword arm feeling, Corporal?”

  McKenit sent an appealing look to his Captain, “M'lord?”

  Bilardi shrugged, “You want to take him on?”

  “Well, Corporal?” Adam leaned forward, one arm resting on his knee, and stared into McKenit's eyes..

  The older man's gaze shifted to Bilardi and then he gulped, “Uh, mayhaps I spoke a bit hastily, you think?”

  Bilardi put his hands in between Adam and the Corporal and forced them apart, “I think the Corporal sees the logic of your argument, Lieutenant. Shall we return to my question of the fellow who's somewhere deep in that tunnel he's dug? We can't leave him in there and there's a possibility he may be of use to us. That's why I don't want to kill him McKenit.”

  The Corporal grunted and then nodded, “Good thinkin', I reckon that's why you're the Cap'n, Cap'n.”

  “Thank you Corporal. The other problem we have is the tunnel itself. I don't relish the idea of an open backdoor leading into Grisham, even if we weren't at war.” Bilardi crossed his arms in front of his chest and considered.

  Adam looked into the mouth of the tunnel once more. If the Earth Shaper was exhausted enough there was a better than even chance he wouldn't know someone else was working magik near him. He decided to take the chance and reached out with his Wizard's sense. The shaper lay at the end of the tunnel, about twenty yards from Grisham's wall. The man was nearly drained. Adam pushed a little deeper. More than drained, it would be weeks before the Shaper would be able to move a pebble much less go about the business of filling in the tunnel. He straightened and moved over to sit on the edge of the ditch.

  Captain Bilardi sat next to him, “You have an idea?”

  “I think so, but it means me going into the tunnel.”

  “By yourself?”

  “I don't think anyone who could fit next to me would be able to help.” Adam said, shaking his head.

  Bilardi bent and looked at the tunnel, “You're probably right. I do hope you're going to keep that blade of yours out in front of you as you go in.” He looked back at Adam, “You are, aren't you?”

  Adam drew the sword, “Of course.”

  “McKenit, take a man and check on the battle.” Bilardi turned to Adam after the Corporal picked one of the guardsmen and dogtrotted around the rise, “We may as well see if there is still a clear path to the gate, don't you think?”

  Adam nodded and stood up, “That's a good idea. I'd rather not have to fight my way back to dinner.”

  Bilardi grimaced, “You had to mention dinner, didn't you?”

  “Just don't let your stomach tell the Ortains where we are,” Adam ducked into the tunnel with the sword held out in front to keep the Captain happy, but as the darkness closed around him he resheathed it and continued in on all fours. His Wizard's sense reached out and found the Shaper still where he was before, curled into a ball at the end of the tunnel. There was no dust or loose dirt to be felt in the tunnel. The shaper's power had fused it into a smooth rocky mass; a similar but far less princely effect then when Adam forced an opening into a collapsed coal mine. Then the result was a diamond-lined entrance worth the ransom of an empire.

  Another five minutes of crawling brought him to where the Earth Shaper lay. He knew he'd reached the man only by touch and through the use of Wizard sense. The tunnel's end boasted a darkness that was absolute. A small surge of power and his right hand began to glow. Details of the space around him rushed into clarity. The shaper looked to be a small man with dark hair and a sallow complexion. He was dressed in a hooded tunic colored a deep wine with sable leggings. There was no sign of a sword or knife.

  “Adam,” Someone was calling his name. The length of the tunnel attenuated the sound and he couldn't tell who the caller was by voice only. Though it had to be Bilardi, any of the others would have used his rank instead of his name.

  “What is it?” He cupped his hands, trying to reduce the echo of the tunnel.

  There was a pause before the Captain answered and when he did he sounded worried,"Did you find him, is he able to work his magik?”

  “What's going on?” Bilardi's tone made Adam hesitant to tell him the Ortian wouldn't stir for days, if ever again.

  There was a longer pause this time, “Ask him if he can finish his tunnel. The southern army has broken our line and they're at the gates. A large number of them could be headed our way. They've cut off our access to the siegewalk. It may be less than an hour.”

  In less than an hour? Adam's mind whirled. How was he going to pull the Shaper out of his coma? There was no time!

  “Adam?” Bilardi's voice echoed back down the tunnel.

  “What?”

  “I was a bit off in my earlier estimation on when they'd get here.”

  “How far off?” Come on you, wake up.

  “Fifteen minutes, maybe less?”

  Fifteen minutes? That was no time at all! Adam shook the Earth Shaper, “Up, wake up! Oh, it's no use. You're gone so far you'll probably never shape again.”

  What he just said struck him between the eyes. He was holding the answer in his right hand; shaping. Bilardi and the others didn't need to know who dug the rest of the tunnel, just that it was done.

  He crawled back along the tunnel for several yards and shouted. “Get in here now! The Shaper has agreed to finish off the tunnel for us. He claims the southerners forced him into this. His real sympathies lie with the north, hurry!”

  Without waiting to see whether or not he was heard Adam scuttled around on his hands and knees and crawled back to where the southern Shaper lay. He pushed the man behind him and sent his Wizard sense into the rock beyond. Bilardi had been right in his estimation of a normal tunnel maker's chances; the rock in front of him grew harder and denser as it drew near to Grisham's walls.

  To make this work he needed to do something different than when he rescued those miners. Just pushing a tube through the rock would disrupt the ground around it. He imagined what the effect of seeing a hump suddenly appearing in the ground above and racing toward the city would do to the men. In addition to that he'd told Bilardi the southern Shaper wasn't very strong. Yes, there would be too many questions if he did it that way, but he also had no time at all to play with considerations. He had a good idea how far the tunnel needed to go so he gathered the power and took a chance. It had to be done smoothly, but he found that using restraint was even more taxing than just letting the shaping fly.

  As the shaping worked he could see the tunnel extend outward before him. It looked like a pitcher of water being poured into a snow bank and melting a channel for its passage. The rock flowed like wax for an instant and then reformed into new walls along the tunnel's extension.

  He heard the men crawling into the tunnel behind him so, grabbing the Earth Shaper by his tunic, he moved forward as quickly as his burden and the space permitted.

  “Lieutenant,” The Corporal called out.

  “I'm here, I'm moving toward the city, the tunnel's being completed.”

  “Hope it's finished afore
them southerners gets here. The Cap'n sent us all in ahead o’ him. How's that southern Shaper?”

  Adam could feel sweat building up under his uniform. It trickled into his eyes and stung. The little Shaper was getting heavy. “He's doing fine Corporal. He can't talk right now. Just keep coming.”

  Finally he could feel the power release as the shaping ate away the last of the bedrock. Voices filtered down into the tunnel ahead. Apparently there'd been witnesses to that magical event. Adam hoped he'd be able to explain enough to avoid any trouble with who may be waiting.

  The fresh air coming in because of the new opening cooled a lot of the sweat pouring out of his scalp and he dragged the Earth Shaper along the tunnel with renewed vigor. Soon smells mingled in the air, the mustiness of livestock, the slightly sour background aroma of the produce market and the oily acrid odor of weapons, lots of weapons.

  Corporal McKenit drew close enough that Adam could see his silhouette in the dim light. The older man puffed with the exertion of trying to catch up. His eyes widened when he saw Adam pulling the Shaper along, “What happened, he dead?”

  “I don't think so,” Adam grunted as he pulled the Shaper into the brighter light streaming down from the tunnel opening. Time for another lie, “He collapsed just as he finished the tunnel.”

  “Good thing for us, I don't fancy goin’ back out the other end. Must be crawlin’ with southerners by now.”

  “C"mon Corp, get a move on.”

  “What's the hold up?”

  Those and other voices came from behind McKenit as the men bunched up behind him. Regardless of what may be waiting on the other side of the exit he had to get out of there. Adam released his hold on the Shaper and stood up.

  Several pairs of hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him into the daylight, “Filthy souther ... Hey! You ain't a southerner,” The speaker sounded like he'd been cheated.

  “Lookit ‘is uniform, he's one of us,” This voice came from behind him.

  “There's more down there, c'mon, let's help ‘em out.” The hands moved Adam to the outside of the crowd. Shortly Corporal McKenit joined him and then, one by one, the other men of the patrol.

  After a short time he heard Captain Bilardi's voice bark out, “Bring stuff to fill in this hole now! There's southerners down there, hurry damn you, hurry!”

  Adam pushed back through the crowd to where he could see Bilardi looking into the tunnel.

  The Captain was waving his arms as if that would speed up the delivery of fill material. “Move it, faster you slugs, I hear them coming!”

  Adam cocked an ear. He heard nothing but the excited speech of the crowd and the clatter of material being brought to fill in the mouth of the tunnel.

  “How close were you to being overrun before you got into the tunnel?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the crowd noise.

  “Not too close, actually,” The Captain looked over at him with a smile. “The last man ducked in just as the first of them topped the rise. We had just enough time to tie up the prisoners.” He flashed a quick grin, “You know, for safety's sake.”

  Bilardi raised an eyebrow with his next question, “The southern Shaper?”

  Lying to my friends is getting to be a habit, Adam thought before he answered, “He had just enough strength to get the job done. I don't think he'll be good for much more any time soon.”

  “Too bad.” The Captain replied. “We could use something like that right now. I don't much like the idea of this thing being filled with just what's at hand.”

  An idea crept in and niggled at Adam's imagination. He acted on it—surprised that doing so took such a small amount of magik.

  Captain Bilardi's reaction told him the rest, “Bardoc's Beard! The thing is collapsing in, no, not collapsing, filling. Adam, look at this, do you see that?”

  Adam worked his way around to where the Captain stood and looked where he pointed. The shaping worked quickly. It was as if what had been done earlier simply reversed direction. Rock that once flowed like melting wax did so again, reshaping itself back into the hard granite of Grisham's foundation. He watched raptly as the tunnel exit smoothly closed and then settled back into the stuff of the street.

  Bilardi whistled. Many of the watching Grishamites made warning signs. One old woman fainted and fell to the ground uncaught.

  Adam straightened and crossed his arms, “I did say the southern Shaper wasn't too strong.” This one wasn't quite a lie. It felt better.

  Bilardi whistled again, “And to think I crawled through that. If we'd waited much longer...” He trailed off and looked sharply at Adam.

  Adam's stomach clenched. Did Bilardi suspect? Had his healing of the old Duke finally register in the Captain's mind?

  “About your advise where magik is concerned Lieutenant,” The Captain's face was stern.

  Adam swallowed, “Yes?”

  “Kick me in the backside the next time if it looks like I'm not listening hard enough. By Bardoc, I'm glad you spent some time with that old Wizard,” Bilardi laughed and threw an arm around Adam's shoulder, “Come on let's go visit our favorite pub for a bite.”

  “But who's going to guard the siegewalk, watch for attack?”

  Bilardi yawned, “There's something you need to learn, Lieutenant, about being a member of the military. We're a team, there is no such thing as an army of one, and if a man is enough of a fool to believe he is; well, that man will have a very short and violent career. I don't know about you, but I'm going to trust the other officers to watch for a while while I grab a pint and a bite before getting some sleep. You care to join me?”

  “But it's clear over on the other side of the city.”

  The Captain looked around as if realizing suddenly where he was, “It is, isn't it? Well, at least we'll have a good appetite when we get there.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ellona woke to the sound of crying. For a few seconds she wandered between wondering if it was a dream or reality, then reality flooded in, “Jonas!”

  She threw off the covers and ran, in her nightshirt only, to the room Jonas shared with his younger sister Sari. The child was sitting up in bed sobbing.

  Ellona rushed to his side and gathered him into her arms, “Ohh my poor dear, you feel frozen.”

  “My head hurts mommy, make it stop,” Jonas buried his face into Ellona's bosom as he cried.

  “Mommy,” Sari raised her head up from her pillow, “is Jonas going to die?”

  “No dear heart, Jonas is not going to die,” Ellona rocked her son gently while she racked her brain for what to do. She wished Ethan were here. Eventually Jonas fell asleep in her arms but he still felt horribly cold. She carried him to the front room and held him through the night, untill the sun rose over the roofs of the buildings across the street.

  Sari woke when the sunbeam coming through the window played across her face. She rubbed her eyes and then turned to see her mother still holding her brother, “Mommy, is Jonas going to die?”

  Ellona opened her eyes and smiled at her daughter, “You asked me that last night dear heart. No, your brother is going to be all right, I just think he needs some medicine. Will you do mommy a big favor?”

  The little girl nodded her head solemnly.

  “Run next door and get Nicoll for me will you? Tell her it's very, very important. Can you do that?”

  Sari nodded again.

  Ellona smiled, “Good, go now Sweetings, and hurry back.”

  Nicoll came into the bedroom with Sari in tow and a frown of concern creasing her forehead. She reached out and felt Jonas’ cheek, “Bardoc help us, the poor child has the chills.” The boy still slept but his breaths came in sharp quick pants and puffs.

  “The chills,” Ellona looked up at her friend, “I remember hearing about them when I was younger. Are they dangerous?”

  Nicoll said nothing but turned her eyes toward Sari.

  Ellona pulled her daughter to her, “Sweetings, will you do mommy another big favor?”r />
  “Uh huh.”

  “Will you go into the big chest in mommy's bedroom and get another quilt for Jonas?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Good, run along now. Just get the first one on top, ok?”

  “Ok mommy,” Sari scampered down the hall.

  Ellona watched her daughter until the little girl vanished around the corner and then turned back to face Nicoll, “All right, she's gone, so tell me what you know.”

  Nicoll dropped her gaze to the hardwood floor. A lot of hard work on Ethan's part had transformed the joined planks into a mellow chestnut expanse. “I've seen maybe a half dozen cases in Berggren since I've lived here. None of them made it past the first week.”

  She reached out as Ellona's hands flew to her mouth, “But that was years ago, and since then I've heard rumors, rumors of a healer in the hills. They say he can heal most anything, even the chills.”

  Ellona shook her head, her voice breaking as she fought to keep her composure, “I ... I don't know, after their father died my children became my life. That is until Ethan came, but he's gone off after Circumstance into the wilds. If I lose Jonas ... I don't know what to do, please tell me what to do!”

  Nicoll took her friend by the shoulders and shook her, “Ellona, keep yourself together. You'll scare Sari and do yourself no good in the bargain. Now, like I said, I've heard rumors and I think it best if we check with Sammel. If anyone knows where to find this healer he will, or at least he'll know of someone who will.”

  The question Ellona was going to ask stayed put as Sari came tottering down the hallway nearly engulfed by the bulk of the quilt she carried. “Sari! I told you to just take the one off the top.”

  The little girl's voice came out from underneath the quilt, “I want to help Jonas too. This one is warmer ‘cause it's bigger.”

  Nicoll helped Ellona take the quilt from Sari and fold it to a manageable size, and then she tussled the little girl's hair, “You did just fine honey. Would you like to help tuck your brother in?”