The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four)

by Jack D. Albrecht Jr.

  The further from the mountains that the men traveled, the warmer the air grew. The Iron Valley had long been a meeting area for trading and training for the nearby dwarven clans. Machai didn’t know who had first discovered the strange warmth of the valley among the icy slopes and cliffs of the surrounding mountain ranges, and each of the clans tended to claim the ancestor who manipulated the terrain which led to its name, but no one knew for sure who it had been. Machai had his doubts that it had been a dwarf at all, since other peoples had been living in the region before the severing of the clans. Still, as the snow melted away to reveal lush green grass and flowering bushes, Machai began to grow anxious and excited about assembling nearly one thousand troops. He eyed the beauty of the landscape, attempting to ease his mind and his stomach and content himself to wait and see what would happen once all of the clans met together in the Iron Valley.

  As they moved deeper into the valley, eyeing the vast walls of stone that jutted up on either side with awe, the FireFalls dwarves grew quiet and contemplative. Veins of quartz striped the valley walls with bright white lines, and the flora grew denser and more varied. Soon, the walls swept out and away from each other, allowing the valley to open and flourish like the desert flowers under a full moon. The wide, sweeping fields of lush grass and wildflowers welcomed Machai and his men. As they came into the widest point, where a gurgling brook bubbled up over moss-covered rocks, Machai caught sight of several dragons sunning themselves on large rocks along the west wall of the valley. Over the buzzing of bees and the chirp of small, yellow-spotted frogs, Machai could hear the sound of gruff voices and weapons clanging in combat. The men picked up their pace toward the far end of the valley, and Machai hoped that he would find the other clans only sparring and not truly engaged in a fight.

  “How many be here, ye be thinking?” Kablis came up beside Machai as they came into sight of the gathered dwarves.

  “It be not all, certainly, but it looks to be five hundred at least. It be quite a sight for a banished betrayer.” Machai grinned over at Kablis, though his words stung his own ears with a certain ring of truth. Kablis only shook his head and flashed a return grin.

  “Be ye ready to be leading ’em all?” Pavyn asked from Machai’s left.

  “Nay, but we be having no choice. Pavyn, be seeking out the commanders from each clan to be meeting in me tent. Kablis, be having the men set up camp and then they can be joining the others to be training and making acquaintance. We be needing all the dwarves to be fighting as one beast, and clan divisions willn’t be helping ’em. See what ye can be doing to be merging them as one clan, will ye?”

  “Aye.” Kablis headed back into the line of dwarves from FireFalls and Pavyn moved off toward the gathered dwarves further down the valley. Machai eyed the dragons, envying their stillness as they soaked in the warmth of the sun. But he knew their idleness was deceiving and that the massive creatures were watching everything with patient eyes.

  Shortly thereafter, Machai was seated on a wooden bench at the head of a large table inside his command tent. He was used to traveling alone or in small groups and sleeping under the stars, so the thick woven fabric was unfamiliar and unwelcome. Machai felt trapped by his role as commander, but he was determined to provide Osric with the troops he needed so badly. Machai forced his gaze away from the pale walls of the tent and back to the intimidating and argumentative group of dwarves who sat with him at the table. After listening to them bicker about whose weapons were the finest and whose shields were the strongest and whose journey to the valley was the most dangerous, Machai finally slammed his fist down on the table and gained their attention.

  “We all be fighting together, so this be not a competition. Ye be among the best dwarves of all the clans, and now we be united by purpose. We be not divided by clan name, so ye be stopping yer fighting and be saving it for the field with yer swords. I be needing to know who be here, and where we be with supplies.” Machai stared across the table and waited for a response that did not involve boasting by a specific clan.

  “I be here with five grids of sixty from IronForge,” Festil said. “We be supplied for a lengthy battle or a short siege. We be having little to be sparing of fare for a long march.”

  “Thank ye, Festil.” Machai nodded in appreciation.

  “We be two grid of fifty strong, but we only be supplied for one. BlackAxe be hit hard, but we be making the trek with what we could.”

  “We be expecting the shortage, Jom. Thank ye.” Machai nodded and then glanced over at Prex from IronAnvil.

  “Fifty hardy and well-trained dwarves that be well supplied.” Prex tugged on his beard with narrowed eyes. “Perhaps we be well enough supplied to be easing the shortage a wee bit for BlackAxe.”

  “That be excellent, Prex,” Machai said. “Ye be aiding me greatly if ye be able to assist with gear.”

  The final member in their meeting was the representative from SnowStand, and Machai did not recall having met him before.

  “Me name be Rubin of SnowStand clan, and it be me pleasure to be leading one hundred willing fighters to be aiding ye in yer fight. Old Rhemt be among me men, and he willn’t stop telling the story of yer gathering to any dwarf who be listening.”

  “Rubin,” Machai said, “we be pleased to be having ye here with us. Be ye well equipped and ready for battle?”

  The SnowStand dwarf was slow to respond, and his white beard nearly hid a hesitant expression. Piercing blue eyes sat deep in creased skin and he was missing several teeth. He shook his head slightly as he began to speak.

  “I willn’t be lying to ye, Machai. Me clan only be sending the members who be volunteering. Me men be young and eager, but they be not as well trained as I be liking. They’ll be throwing all they be having at yer enemies for the glory and power that be trailing behind yer name after the gathering, but they be not weathered warriors. I cannot be saying if they be ready, but I’ll be doing all I can to be preparing ’em.”

  “I be grateful for yer candor, and there be plenty of seasoned fighters to be working with yer younger additions to our army. If they be as eager as ye be saying, then they be as welcome as any battle scarred dwarf among us.” Machai nodded and stood up from his seat at the bench. Before he left, he said, “There be seven hundred and fifty including our two hundred from FireFalls. That be more than we be seeking when we first be setting out from Stanton, but the more there be the better. Be there any word from the other clans?”

  “SteelBorne be due in the morning, and BillowBluff be not far behind.” Pavyn reported from his position behind Machai. “There be a storm in the mountains that be delaying both clans, but last report be saying they be making up time well. There be no word from StoneStar or IceIsle.”

  “Aye, we be not expecting any from IceIsle unless they be reporting on the dragon attack. I be hoping that Legin be pulling through though. Inform me immediately if ye be hearing anything more.”

  “Aye.” Pavyn nodded, and the other dwarves stood up and moved toward the flap of the tent.

  “Let us be seeing our men, and perhaps we can be getting them to be fighting together instead of fighting each other.” Machai led the way out toward the open field at the end of the valley, where men from the five clans were sparring and training together.

  Machai was pleasantly surprised to see how well the five clans were integrating their fighting techniques and working together on organizing their ranks. Several of the clans had brought experienced combat trainers along, and they were hard at work to find the strengths of each group. They were also systematically identifying weaknesses that could be accounted for and countered by the abilities of others.

  By the end of the day, everyone had at least adequate gear and had been assigned to one of twenty-five units. Each unit had at least one leading member with experience in both combat and training.

  As the dwarves settled in for the night around campfires, with hearty stews simmering over hot coals and heady liquor being passed around in cl
ay jugs, Machai moved slowly around the edges of camp looking for trouble. He walked with Kablis and Irto, and several others whom he trusted were among the men listening for indicators of the intentions behind each dwarf’s presence there. Tagel, who with his innate ability could hear a whisper from across the valley over all of the other noise, had climbed a tall tree at the edge of camp and was listening to the variety of hushed conversations and mumbled curses from the less eager members. Machai needed to identify those who had been sent to the valley to spy on him or gain use of his spells rather than to help the Aranthians defeat Dredek and save the Irua Realm. He knew he would need Trusts before sending the men on to Stanton, but if he could identify the dwarves who were only loyal to themselves or their clans, rather than to the realm or the world, he could send them elsewhere to prevent them from compromising his mission.

  Only a handful of men had been identified as potential spies, but several more had been picked out of the crowds as suspiciously unsupportive of Machai and his purpose with the Aranthians. Those dwarves were casually reassigned so that Machai could work with them closer in the morning and have them easily at hand when he was able to call in a Trust from Stanton. Machai knew he had likely developed the Trust ability, but if it was fully matured, he didn’t know how to use it. He could have one of the Charm-Makers look for it, but he didn’t feel like he could rely on it even if he knew it was present, and he would prefer to avoid having any of his men scrutinize him with the ability. He understood how uncomfortable it must have been for Osric to constantly have Gus peering inside of him when the gifts first started developing.

  The next morning, Machai and the other leaders were gathered around the fire enjoying a meal of oats and fruit when one of the men on watch approached to report that the members from SteelBorne and BillowBluff had been sighted nearby and they would be in camp soon. Machai finished his breakfast quickly and walked to the end of the valley to greet the newcomers. Furtl led fifty volunteers from SteelBorne, and Orgom led one hundred and fifty dwarves from BillowBluff. Hern was not among them, but Machai was not surprised by his absence. The rest of the morning was spent assessing all of the new arrivals and moving them into appropriate units based on experience, fighting style and weaponry, and commitment to the mission. Out of around nine hundred and fifty dwarves, Machai had weeded out twenty-seven who he knew would not be a good addition to his army. He requested that one of the dragons transport those twenty-seven to IceIsle to provide aid and extra arms after the recent dragon attacks. Then, he contacted Osric to arrange for transportation of over nine hundred new recruits to the Aranthians headquarters.

  “Osric, be ye available? I be needing yer help to be fattening yer ranks.” After a brief moment, the connection was established with Osric’s wand and the image of the High-Wizard appeared in the display of light from the tip of Machai’s wand in his outstretched hand.

  “Machai, it’s good to hear from you. Any luck?”

  “Aye, more than we be expecting. It be taking too long to be floating us all down by river. Can ye be helping me be getting me men to Stanton?”

  “How many were you able to recruit? I was beginning to lose hope that you would come back with any men at all.” Osric waved someone away, but Machai couldn’t see who was vying for his attention.

  “Over nine hundred.” Machai grinned at the look of astonishment on Osric’s face. “Can ye be sparing some men with the stamina to be making the leap by spell with some of me dwarves? There be seven dragons here to be helping, but they can only be safely flying with a handful of passengers.”

  Osric was silent for a moment as he considered the amount of men it would take to transport so many dwarves with armor, weapons, and other supplies safely. Only a few members of the Aranthians that had worked closely with him the longest had developed the Enduro ability, and he wasn’t sure it was safe to send anyone that far without it. Then, he smiled and nodded at Machai.

  “Actually, I think I can do even better than that. Can you give me a good view of the landscape with an open area please?”

  Machai turned and moved his hand to the side, providing Osric with an unobstructed view of the valley behind him. He found a good angle where Osric could see the rock formation that the dragons were lounging on and the open field of green grass and wildflowers that surrounded it. A moment later, the wand connection was severed and Machai glanced up to see Osric standing near the closest of the large rocks. The two men greeted each other warmly, Machai reaching up to grasp Osric’s wrist.

  “It be good to be seeing ye again, me friend. Be ye planning on traveling a thousand dwarves all by yerself?”

  “No.” Osric laughed. “I need to speak with the dragons briefly, but I believe we can get you all back to Stanton much faster and safer than if we used men. Give me a moment and I’ll let you know my plan.”

  Machai watched as Osric leapt up onto the rock, which was just above the High-Wizard’s head at its lowest point, and moved quickly over to the dragons. It wasn’t long before he came scrambling back over the rocks and jumped down to the soft grass, returning to Machai with a triumphant smile.

  “I will be taking one of the dragons back to Stanton with me, just to show him exactly where the others can travel to, and then the rest can follow. It might take a couple trips, but we should have you all back to town and setting up camp by mid’day.”

  “Ye be sounding sure, but it be muddy to me. How do ye be suggesting we be sending so many per trip on a dragon’s back?” Machai asked.

  “They won’t be on dragonback. The men don’t need to ride because the dragons don’t need to fly. We will have them travel from the ground, so you just need as many dwarves as possible to be in contact with the dragon when it initiates the spell. There is plenty of space in the fields between Stanton and Lothaine, and then it’s just a short march to the city. The dragons will need to travel one at a time, with enough time between them to allow the field to be cleared before the next group arrives, but it shouldn’t take long at all. Have your men gather their gear.”

  Machai grinned and shook his head, grateful for Osric’s quick thinking and pleased to see his friend again. “Aye, ye be growing wise while I be away. It be a good plan.” Machai turned and headed back to the troops to explain the plan and to answer questions from confused and skeptical dwarves, who had not yet seen the impressive feat of traveling by spoken spell. The incentive to learn the spell for themselves should be motivation enough to override any fears that would prevent the men from keeping a hand on the dragon. Still, after the first group disappeared, Machai had to reestablish communication with Osric so that the next group could see that everyone arrived safely in the open field. Soon, nearly one thousand dwarves were marching across dry grassland toward the trading city of Stanton, half a continent away from their dwarven homes.

  24 — Reinforcements

  Osric sat with his back to the window in the dining hall of the barracks. The morning sun warmed him, but the pressure of the current situation dulled his senses, keeping him from enjoying the sensation. The sun’s warmth may have escaped his notice, but the clanks of silver on plates and the quick, dry scraping of quill on paper filled the room.

  The room was full of Aranthians discussing Legati, the paun, and a myriad of other topics surrounding accessing the wells and defeating Dredek. It was a typical morning for the crew, with the exception of the several hundred men and women who were kept from their morning meal, assigned to other tasks around Archana.

  For the Aranthians, it was becoming an unspoken honor to be selected for the relief efforts. It made them feel like they were contributing to something, rather than spending all of their time training. They volunteered to go on any new assignment that presented itself, and it seemed that Osric alone felt the pressure of the dwindling numbers. Indeed, it was the numbers that caused him to sit alone in the room surrounded by scholars and magical experts on subjects that were of no use on current deployments.

  Even though they hadn�
��t been sent to operations outside of the headquarters, they still carried on with their duties. New magical discoveries continued to occur on a regular basis. In addition to the new discoveries, Osric had given himself time every night to practice with several new gifts he could purposefully channel. But, much of that time had been spent alone and in solitude—even Bridgett, with her Empath ability and her keen questioning, couldn’t fully grasp the complexity of his emotions due to what he had been going through. Still, Gus had felt the need to keep company with him every morning, droning on about news and events of importance, and this was yet another one of those mornings.

  “He inflated the strands!” He stared at Osric for several dull moments before waving his hand in the air and then probing an exposed shoulder with his wand. “Pay attention, Osric! That was an important revelation in wandcraft!”

  Osric shook himself, returning to the subject at hand. He hadn’t intended to ignore Gus, but since the old Wand-Maker’s playful moment with Pebble outside the barracks, Gus’s words didn’t seem to carry the same disturbing quality of their former days.