The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two (5 page)

Dru nodded in agreement and set out to gather the Vigiles as he had been ordered. Osric looked at Kenneth and they moved together toward the market. He had an idea, but he needed to get something before he approached Macgowan. A few houses out from the market district, he found what he was looking for in a window sill. Osric politely explained the situation to the woman at the door, and she was more than happy to provide him with what he wanted.

Osric approached Macgowan with compassion and placed a hand gently on his large shoulder. “Macgowan,” he spoke softly as the vapor clouded the crisp air from the sleeping man’s breath. He didn’t wake, so Osric gave him a light shake and spoke again. Finally, Macgowan’s eyes drifted open and Osric held a handful of daisies out before him. Tears fell from his eyes as he took the flowers, and he looked up to see tears in Osric’s eyes in greeting.

“I won’t move,” his low rumbling voice was calm, yet firm enough to make sure Osric understood, “so please don’t ask.”

“We won’t ask you to move, but some men are going to be erecting a shelter here. They will have hot water to bathe, as well as fire, food, and blankets. If you ask any one of them, they will fetch you some clean clothing.”

Macgowan’s face turned upward as he examined Osric’s eyes. Understanding passed between them and Macgowan nodded in response. Osric stood, knowing that no one would be threatened by the grieving man again, and he vowed to himself that Macgowan would have fresh daisies every day, even if he had to grow and spell them himself to keep them in bloom during the winter’s chill.

He felt a bit better as he set out to meet Toby. Though a few tears still ran down his cheek, a sense of accomplishment flowed through him knowing that those in mourning would be looked after. Walking in the cool air, Osric finally allowed himself to be invigorated by being home. It was a small kindness, but it was the first step of many in repairing his city and beginning the healing.

Osric and Kenneth approached the temporary Contege office in the records room of the barracks, just west of the collapsed palace. A short, bespectacled man glanced at them nervously as he exited the room they were approaching. With wide eyes, he looked down at the book in his hands and shuffled his way past the two of them. Osric sensed a slight pull from the man, indicating something important had just occurred. If they hadn’t needed to talk to Toby so badly, Osric may have stopped the man to investigate. Osric tried to shrug off the feeling that he should have reacted, and they entered the office to find Toby looking severely agitated. Stopping just inside the door, Osric and Kenneth stood quietly. Without glancing up from his desk, Toby acknowledged their entrance by raising a hand to silence them while rubbing his temples with his free hand.

“I know you miss us, but you don’t have to weep my friend.” Kenneth laughed.

Toby froze, then slowly lifted his head. Osric smiled and shrugged his shoulders at Toby’s shocked expression.

“Didn’t expect to see us again, I guess?”

“No, I was wondering if you had deserted your post after all.” Toby stood and stepped out from behind the desk, extending his hand to Osric. “Sit down and tell me how things went at Braya,” he motioned Osric to the seat behind the desk, and stood a respectful distance away, “I was sick of running this place anyway. I never make it home in time for dinner. Jasmine thinks I have a mistress; her hugs last far too long. I’m sure she is sniffing the air for perfume while she clings to me.” Relief was evident as his shoulders dropped, but his posture showed a readiness to work.

Osric took several purposeful steps around the desk before he responded, not quite ready to resume leading. It wasn’t that he couldn’t perform the duties, but rather that he felt he needed to be elsewhere. Not the sudden urging that came with his Portentist gift, but he knew that the mess was not going to be sorted out unless someone who knew what was happening was working it. The Portentist ability was silent, and that bothered him more than anything else.
Just a little hint would be nice,
Osric tried to reason with Archana for some direction, but none came.

“Toby, you may be relieved of your temporary Contege duties, but I’m afraid you won’t get off that easy. You are one of the few men I can trust to help me unravel this mystery, and I need your help,” Osric spoke with reserved calm. “By the way, why were there men and women sleeping and suffering on the cold, hard ground around the crumbled palace walls?” Osric’s tone turned serious as he questioned to Toby.

“It’s that damned Konsult, Dredek.” Toby sneered as he spoke, his disdain for the Konsult’s name was clear by the curled lip that contorted his face with the words. “He insists that even though they have apprehended the person responsible for the attack on the palace, the Vigiles are not trained well enough to handle another attack, if one were to come. He has all of the recruits and most of the senior Vigiles training and drilling in weapons.” Toby paused for a moment, and then crossed the room and closed the door. “He keeps assigning men to menial tasks, or promising grand promotions, depending on their performance. He intends to announce his selections for promotions at tonight’s operations council, so he has ordered all of the Vigiles to attend. Honestly, I’m not sure if leaving the city unguarded is his malicious intention, or if he is just ignorant enough to not realize the potential problems that will cause.” Toby ran his hands over his bald head in frustration. “And that creepy little minion of his, you must have passed him in the hall, keeps piling stacks of paperwork on my desk to keep me occupied. If you ask me, Dredek is selecting more people to take with him when he departs, but what could he be planning?”

“I’m not sure, but this is unacceptable! We have people starving and dying, out in the cold. Some of them are in shock and need help. Why would he stop the Vigiles from aiding them?” Osric was storming around, seeking a view in the windowless room. He needed the fresh air on his face and the bitterness of the wind to give him a fresh perspective. Confronting the Konsult and demanding he explain what was happening seemed to be the only option. That course would also provide an opportunity to investigate the man that left the room before they arrived.

“I can’t seem to make sense of his orders, either. He has been cryptic when I ask him for more of our men to help, too.” Toby smoothed the front of his uniform with his right hand, and rested his left on the hilt of his sword. Osric knew the motion; Toby was itching for a duel.

“I’m going to talk to him.” Osric turned to face Kenneth. “You two go down to the training grounds and see what he has them doing. Kenneth, I want you to train Toby in the way Machai showed us to fight, but keep quiet if anyone is nearby. The last thing we need is for those responsible for Archana being on the brink of war to overhear you.”

“What are you going to say to him?” Toby probed, and Osric was more than willing to share.

“He is going to tell me what his plans are so I can help, or give me back the authority to lead my men.”

Kenneth smiled and Toby nodded his head as Osric headed for the door. He overheard Toby’s next inquiry, and Osric grinned as he stepped into the hallway.

“So, you learned something more than that
traveling
spell since I last talked to Osric? And who is Machai?”

He could hear Kenneth laugh as he strode down the hall of the barracks. He envied the next few hours for Toby. Learning dual wielding for the first time was fascinating, and probably more so with Kenneth as the instructor. Although Osric had grown to respect Machai, the learning process would have been more enjoyable without the dwarf’s attitude. Osric had a strong urge to pull out his sword and work through his training forms. There was nothing like wielding a sword together with a wand and the Hunter’s gift - the feel of the wind, and the sword seeming to dance with its own will as he took well controlled, deep breaths. Osric thought about the conversation he must have with Konsult Dredek. Only with great effort did he manage to resist the temptation to seek out a duel of his own.

He walked down the same dirt road as before, and noticed that Dru had done a fine job getting aid for the downtrodden people. They had several fires built already, and he could hear, “Thank you, Sir,” and the occasional, “May Archana bless you,” thrown his way from teary eyed gatherers as they were brought soup and fresh bread. Osric’s men pointed in his direction as they smiled and gave blankets to everyone. It seemed as though every soul that lost a loved one in the disaster had gathered in the immediate area, and every eye seemed to be fixed in his direction.

Osric felt like a specimen in a glass jar as he approached Gordyn and James working together at James’ cart. Dozens of people surrounded the rickety stand where they were handing blueberry honey cakes to all that passed by. James wore an enormous smile as sweat ran freely down his face. He was baking fresh pastries at an impressive speed, and the saddened crowd’s desire to eat his food seemed to fill him with more energy than Osric had ever witnessed. Osric joined in with Gordyn and James to help pass out the delicious looking dessert.

“Gordyn, James, things are going well up here, I see,” Osric commented, while taking note of the many grateful faces surrounding the stand. It was hard to keep up with the number of hands begging for their share of the treat.

“Ah, well, when Dru brought me the news of your orders, James and I were together at the dragon platform. We rushed down here right away. James has been urging us to do this for some time now.”

“James, thank you for helping.” Osric looked quickly at the invigorated, red face of the cook responsible for the large crowd.

“All the thanks I need is on their faces. Just look at them smiling when they take a bite!” His large grin had grown and seemed to encompass his whole face, and Osric turned to see the faces of those eating the pastry. “I’m thinking of making another sign that reads, ‘Comfort Food.’” He spread his hands out before him, indicating a large, elaborate sign.

Osric laughed at the grand gesture. James was right, and if the faces of those receiving the free food weren’t exactly smiling, it certainly did appear to help their state of mind. The incremental increase in their mood did wonders for James’ attitude, and Osric knew the man well enough to know that it wasn’t for his own pride that he reveled in it. Osric was proud that he had men like James on his side, and he only hoped it would be enough in the trials to come.

“Carry on.” Osric slapped them on the back and made his way through the paths that surrounded the rubble. He walked quickly to the tent that Dredek was using while commanding the Vigiles, and he noticed no guards present outside the door. He expected to see candle light, or at least the light from a wand illuminating the pale fabric of the crudely built enclosure, but the barren appearance left him feeling a bit unnerved. He moved inside cautiously and found the room empty except for the large table in the center. It didn’t look like they had left a long time before, as smoke trailed lazily from a candle in the corner.

The tent had an odd feel to it. Osric checked within himself, but none of his gifts were activating. Something just felt wrong, so he scanned the contents of the room. A bowl sat turned on its side in the back, and it caught his attention. He made his way slowly around the enormous table, not sure what to expect. On the floor, in the shadows, lay the body of a slender man, his spectacles lying askew across his pinched face. Osric knelt down and felt for a pulse, but he knew it was unnecessary.

Osric didn’t know the man, but he knew that the pale cast of his skin was not normal. The body appeared odd as it lay on the floor. He had seen dead bodies before that appeared to be asleep. This was different. The wide open eyes and horror filled expression of the man seemed void, as if there had never been life behind those eyes. Gazing at the eerie corpse filled Osric with an uneasy feeling. He grabbed his wand and held it out before him, focusing his power on the thought of contacting his men. A shimmering white light ignited above his wand, displaying the image of Toby and Kenneth walking toward the training grounds.

“Toby, Kenneth, I need to see you in the Konsult’s tent, now. Bring Gordyn.”

In a short span of time, Toby and Kenneth joined Osric in the tent. Osric had busied himself lighting the lanterns and candles while he waited, and the low light made the ashen appearance of the dead man’s skin look even more disturbing. Toby stared down at the body, unable to avert his gaze. Gordyn had not yet joined them, and Osric was growing impatient. Toby shook his head and turned to stare out the small window of the tent.

Osric’s mouth turned down at the obvious concern on his Profice’s face. It wasn’t as though Toby seemed to know the man well, but he was certainly very disturbed at the man’s death. Obviously, Osric felt bad that the man had died, but he wasn’t sure why Toby seemed so distraught.

“Toby, why exactly are you so upset? I hate to see a man lose his life, too, but something else seems to be bothering you.”

“This man’s death is going to be the beginning of a fire storm, Osric. He is one of the Wizardly Union officials I told you about.”

“Aren’t they responsible for matters of magic?” Osric prodded Toby to explain himself, and his dark eyed expression suggested fear.

“Oh, yeah. That and making sure the public is aware of new discoveries that would make their lives easier.” Toby pulled a chair out to support his leg and leaned in. “If you think that means they have no power, think again. They use their knowledge to gain power by demanding things before they give up the knowledge.” He let out a small chuckle. “Don’t think they give up the good stuff either.”

“Sir,” Gordyn stepped in the room, “sorry. I had a hard time getting away from the crowd.” He noticed the body on the floor and took in a sharp breath.

“Gordyn,” Osric drew his attention, “when did you last see the Konsult?”

“He took off on a dragon just before I got your orders to help the poor folk at the palace.”

“What? He left town? What exactly did you see?”