The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) (20 page)

“Where be the other three?” Machai asked as he sank into an overstuffed chair against one wall.

“There be no word yet from Phel, but IceIsle be a long way.” Kablis took the seat next to Machai. “Gerbim be reaching me by wand. He be finding Legin in StoneStar, and they should be here anytime. Morgo went to SnowStand, but Rhemt be heading for Barlington on trade. Morgo be following the river looking for the boat he be on, but since me wand be silent it be likely he still be searching.”

Machai eyed Festil and the other dwarves from the various clans, and he wondered what they would need to hear to be convinced that war was the correct choice for the Dwarven Realm. Festil was fairly young, but the stern gaze of the IronForge clan was firmly etched in his features, and he had shed the instability of his shock at traveling by spell. His blond beard was trimmed straight across at his chest, and he wore his long hair in a single braid down his back. Krind had welcomed Festil warmly when he followed Machai into the room, providing warm food and mead to the newcomer as he ushered him to the large table in the center of the room. The guests sat around the table, trading stories of their clans’ recent happenings and discussing the various ideas they each had about what a gathering would entail. They knew why they were there, but none of them had ever been present at a gathering.

Machai slipped in and out of sleep while sitting in the chair, the exhaustion of having used so much magic catching up to him, as conversations and laughter drifted around him. Around mid’day, Gerbim arrived with Legin and with news of Phel, who had spent the entire night arguing with the clan leader of IceIsle. Kant was the leader’s uncle, an old dwarf that had rarely left his clan’s walls in recent years. However, his spine was still straight and stong and his hands still thickly calloused from weapons training. Phel had tried to make the leader of IceIsle see that Kant was needed to complete the gathering, but the protective younger dwarf refused to yield. Phel had contacted Gerbim, seeking advice on what he should do, when Kant walked up and slapped a wrinkled hand on his nephew’s back. The old dwarf had listened to the men argue all night, and when it seemed that Phel might give up, Kant had looked his nephew in the eye and said, “Ye be too kind and too foolish to be of me blood, and ye be too young to be dictating me life or me death. A gathering be the highest honor ye may ever receive as a descendant of Behg the Brutal. I be going now, with or without yer blessing. It be me right and me responsibility to be knocking some sense into these foolish young dwarves who be bent on a foreign war.”

Phel and Kant arrived shortly after Gerbim, and the absence of Morgo and the last of the nine gathering members settled over the room like a fog. Machai roused himself from his sporadic slumber and sent a young dwarf who earned coin by running errands to get a tonic from the healers. He needed something that would restore alertness and ease the magical fatigue. It was an expensive remedy, but Machai would have no time for the sleep he needed until after the gathering was over.

When the small vial of foul-smelling liquid arrived, Machai drank it quickly with a grimace. He struggled to keep it down, but once his stomach had settled he began to feel a bit better. Soon, he was nearly back to his normal self, and he found Kablis in the next room.

“How can we be aiding Morgo to be finding Rhemt so we can be getting this gathering over with?” Machai asked. Kablis glanced up with a worried expression.

“I cannot be saying, though I wish I be knowing. Perhaps if we be sending more men? We be sure he be on a boat, but Morgo cannot be traveling any faster than the dragon can be flying. We be fearing that the spoken spell may be taking him past the boat and he could be missing it.”

“What be the furthest south the boat could be stopping before Rhemt be heading east for Barlington?” Machai asked.

“There be a small port city on the coast, though I cannot be recalling its name. Rhemt be either gaining a ship to be sailing along the coast from there, or calling a dragon somewhere between the forks and the coast. It be impossible to be saying where he be disembarking if he be taking a dragon over land.”

“Aye. Be calling us dragons. Ye be traveling to the coast and flying north, and I be starting at the forks and doing the same. Whoever be finding the boat first can be calling the others by dragon. We need to be finding it fast.” Machai waited only long enough for a nod of confirmation from Kablis before turning and rushing into the outer room. “Krind, Kablis and I be heading out to aid Morgo in the search. I need ye to be bringing Agrik in to be preparing these men for their service in the gathering. I cannot be saying what he may be needing for preparations, but ye be getting him anything he be asking for, aye?”

“Aye.” Krind placed the pitcher of water he had been pouring for their guests on the table, smiled reassuringly at the dwarves gathered around and waiting anxiously, and hurried from the room to find the old man who knew more of dwarven lore than any other alive. Machai followed closely on his heels, but he turned toward the stone lift rather than trailing Krind deeper into the mountain. He needed to reach the dragon platform quickly, as each moment of delay in finding the ninth member put the gathering at greater risk of failure.

When Machai reached the platform, Kablis had just arrived and was summoning the dragons. In one corner of the large slab of stone that served for a landing space was a small, narrow structure. The stone brick walls stood only a bit taller than Kablis, and the roof was made of thickly thatched straw treated with sap from the lentum trees that grew along the mountain springs throughout the region. The sticky substance kept the small building surprisingly immune to the elements, protecting the riding gear that was stored inside.

Just inside the door, mounted into the wall, was a pulsing green emerald spelled to link up with the dragons’ telepathic abilities. Kablis placed his hand over the stone charm, worn smooth not by polishing but by the touch of dwarven hands over the generations. The warmth of his hand activated the spell, and once the pulsing became a steady glow, Kablis tapped the emerald twice with the tip of his wand, signaling that he needed two dragons to respond to the summons.

They waited only moments before the first of the mighty creatures appeared in the sky above them. The dragon’s wide wings stirred up the snow around the platform as he beat them quickly and powerfully to slow his descent and land gracefully before the two dwarves. A second dragon was not far behind. Machai approached the first one, a massive grey-colored male he had never met before. He bowed low before it, and the dragon watched him silently with blue eyes the size of Machai’s head.

“I be immensely grateful that ye be responding to me summons. I know the dragons be an honorable and free species, and ye be under no obligation to be carrying me aside from yer loyalty to the High-Wizard. I be loyal to him too.”

“You know more than most, dwarf, yet you still summon us. Where is it you ask us to carry you?” The voice rumbled deeply from the great dragon’s throat.

“I be needing to reach the forks of the river, south of Stanton. Me companion be needing to fly further, to where the river becomes the sea.” Machai indicated Kablis with a nod. “We need to be finding a boat that be traveling downriver. We be asking ye to carry us out of great need, but we willn’t make demands of ye. If ye be willing to aid us and the High-Wizard’s cause, we would be extremely grateful for yer help. We cannot be paying ye what ye deserve for yer service, but we will be paying ye what we can.”

The dragon did not respond immediately, and from the still posture of the second dragon, Machai assumed that the two were communicating through their telepathic link. Kablis stood near the smaller female, waiting for the decision.

“Keep your coins, dwarf. We will aid you out of gratitude for your role in our freedom.” The surprised expression on Machai’s face made the dragon rumble with laughter. “Do you think you are unknown among the dragons, Machai? I know who you are, and I would be honored to carry you wherever you wish to fly.”

Humbled, Machai bowed again in gratitude. “Ye be doing me a great honor. May I be asking ye for yer name?”

“I am Cinereus, and this is Zephyr. Ready your gear, my small friends.”

Machai and Kablis worked quickly, helping each other to secure the harnesses onto each of the dragon’s backs. They lashed their gear behind the seats, and when they had strapped themselves in they called up to the dragons, announcing that they were ready to fly. Machai nodded over at Kablis, hoping one of them would be able to intercept the boat before they lost Rhemt on land, and Cinereus launched himself into the air with a powerful lunge from his hind legs. His wings beat against the cool air, lifting them high into the air above FireFalls. The sun was still a few fingers above the highest peak, but the end of the second day was coming swiftly. They needed to locate Rhemt and return to the clan before night. Machai wanted time for all nine members to be fully prepared for the ceremony of the gathering, and he wanted to be able to rest before pleading his case before them.

“Once we clear these last few peaks I can utilize the traveling spell. You want to begin your search where the Dimon River meets the Diutinus River, near the village of Bridges?” Cinereus’s deep rumble carried easily on the wind.

“Aye. That be a fine place to be starting. Be heading north with the Diutinus, and I be grateful if ye be helping me look for the boat. Yer eyes be much sharper than mine, especially from such a height.” Machai held tightly to the straps of his riding harness, but the larger dragon’s flight was much less unsettling than Treethorn’s agility and speed.

“We will find it. If it is that important to you, and to the High-Wizard, I will make sure we find it,” Cinereus said. They were soon soaring with the currents of air that swept along just beyond the mountain range, and Machai heard the dragon mutter softly, “Eo ire itum.”

They appeared just above the point where the two rivers joined. All that was before them was land painted with the caress of the evening sun. Cinereus banked right slightly and then took a wide, slow turn to the left, looking back at the long, winding tail of the Diutinus River to the south, swollen from the addition of the Dimon’s swift waters. As their direction changed, so did the view.

“Nothing, as far as I can see, to the south.” Cinereus turned his head to the north as his massive body navigated the wind.

“Aye, north it be!” Machai shouted over the wind as he admired the landscape.

To the south it had been green, with small patches of white where snow had very little chance to last through the day’s sun. To the west stood a small mountain chain, far in the distance, but still visible from the altitude gained on dragonback. Machai remembered the tales of how Osric’s journey began in those mountains, and he was grateful that he had stumbled upon Osric’s party in the Elven Realm—even if it meant he would be giving up his own home to aid the Aranthians in their cause.

Then their flight brought them fully in the direction the river was coming from, and much larger patches of white filled the landscape in the northern direction. He couldn’t make out the majestic peaks of his home, and the land looked almost flat from his vantage point strapped into a seat on dragonback.

They took the right fork of the two, which led all the way to the mountains he had known since he was a lad. The small village, Bridges, lay nestled in the fork of the rivers, protected from sporadic flooding by neat, winding walls. Two great bridges spanned the rivers and tied the village to the roads leading west from the Dimon and east from the Diutinus. From Machai’s height, the quaint village was only a spattering of thatched rooftops, late-blooming flowers, and a few animals penned in by even fences. Machai drew his gaze from the little town and focused on the sparkling water rushing along on its course. The banks were far apart, and the dark-blue water showed its depth, providing an ideal waterway for small cargo ships to traverse the entire realm in only a few days.

They saw only two boats near the village, but they were far too small to be the trading vessel of a dwarven clan—likely only a wealthy family or a merchant enjoying the evening on the water.

“Can ye be taking us a bit lower, Cinereus?”

The dragon dropped closer to the water, where Machai could easily make out individual trees along the bank and large fish leaping from the current in the evening light. Cinereus increased his speed slightly, sure that they would be able to identify the ship from such a distance without having to sacrifice additional time. The village fell behind them quickly, and the quiet countryside spread out across Machai’s vision on either side of the water. He spotted a family of lions lounging along the riverbank, and further on, numerous deer were drinking from the river or grazing in the fields nearby. Several small fishing boats were on the water as they traveled, but nothing like the one they were looking for.

Just as the sky began to blush in the west, Cinereus called back that he had spotted a ship. A moment later, Machai could see sails up ahead, and he dared to hope that the search would be over so soon. However, when they came up closer, the ship was clearly marked as a merchant vessel from one of the human cities near the coast.

The air was growing cooler as they flew north and night approached, and Machai pulled his fur-lined hood closer around his face to fend off the bite of the wind. Still, after the bitter cold and stinging ice of the storm he had flown through to get to IronForge, the cool air of this flight was nothing that could distract him from his mission.

The sun continued its journey beyond the horizon, and Machai struggled to distinguish the rocks and trees along the riverbank from the hulls and sails of small ships in the dark.

“Can ye be the eyes in the dark, Cinereus? I cannot be seeing a thing.”

“Of course. There is another ship up ahead, and it looks large enough to be the one you are seeking. I will fly in closer so you can get a good look.”

“Aye, I be thanking ye greatly. Let’s be hoping it be the right boat and we can be ending this wild chase.” Machai gazed up along the melodic water, but he could see nothing that looked like a sail. He hoped the dragon was right.