The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) (24 page)

“I be meaning no disrespect, but the Dwarven Realm be scattered in nine clans because the mighty dwarves who be founding the clans be unable to be issuing effective orders. They be using this very ceremony to be sundering the realm, and it be the ability of this generation to be either uniting it or be repeating the mistakes of our ancestors. Ye be saying I be naïve, but it be naïve to be thinking this realm be solid. We be fractured and fighting, failing to be binding our strength and our honor in our actions, failing to be rising to the need for greatness in a world that be on the brink of atrocity, failing to be meeting our potential as the mighty warriors and leaders that our ancestors should be if they be putting their differences aside for the good of the clan. Our ancestors be great men, mighty and honorable in their own rights, but they be failing the realm when they be giving up on unity and abandoning each other because they could not be agreeing. We can be great men too, or we can be striving to be even greater than they be. We be valuing tradition, as our blades meeting here today be showing, but we need not be blinded by it. Let us be seeking to be the greatest Dwarven Realm that ever be. Let us be standing beside our clan leaders and be following them into battle for virtue and right, rather than standing against each other with blades raised and insults flying. Let us be bringing the clans together under one banner, bound by our blood and our burdens and our desire to be defending Archana from brutality and wickedness. Let us be marching out from our mountain fortresses and be showing the world that the Dwarven Realm be a realm to be celebrated and feared, a realm of justice delivered swiftly by honorable hearts and enchanted blades, not a realm of factions but a realm of heroes!” Machai thrust his sword skyward as he concluded, raising a thunderous cheer and applause from the gathered audience. The dwarves who had been fighting with Thenar had stopped to listen to his speech as well, and tears were shining in old Rhemt’s eyes as he nodded in approval of Machai’s words.

Fertl, Jom, Prex, and even Festil resumed the ritual with a new vigor, trading well-timed and coordinated attacks against Thenar. They no longer questioned him or accused him, but rather focused all of their energy into subduing him with their swords. Irto stood to one side, eyeing Thenar’s battle with interest, but he was not willing to raise his blade against his own clan leader.

Kant and Hern refused to be swayed by Machai’s call for greatness and glory, and they came at Machai with fierce determination. Machai, invigorated by his own words, fought them off efficiently, pacing his strokes to fend off the fatigue of such a long engagement. Thenar did not fare so well, and it was only a matter of time before his four opponents overwhelmed him. Legin and Rhemt had joined Irto on the sidelines, supporting Machai by choosing not to oppose him. Thenar fought well, but he was heavily outnumbered, and the tradition of the gathering required that he avoid maiming or killing his opponents. The fighting was supposed to be a ritual, not a bloodbath. The dwarves who stood against Thenar were striking precisely, timing thrusts and strikes where the others left openings in the clan leader’s defenses. And Thenar was tired. He trained now less than he did when he was young, as the responsibilities of leadership were demanding of his time and his energy. Even with perfectly controlled movements, his sword was growing heavier with each breath. As Thenar contemplated his impending loss, his focus was broken and he made his first significant mistake. Prex landed a well-timed blow to Thenar’s chest plate, and he overcompensated to keep from falling backward. Had he been fresh in the fight, Thenar would have planted his rear foot and barely moved from the impact. As Jom moved in with the next blow, aiming at where Thenar’s sword should have been, Thenar lunged forward and took the full strength of Jom’s sword strike on the shoulder. Dwarves made some of the strongest armor on Archana, and also some of the best weapons. With the dense muscle of the BlackAxe dwarf behind it, the blow severely dented Thenar’s shoulder cop. He cried out as much from shock as from pain, and he lowered his blade. With his teeth bared in a ferocious grimace, and his left arm hanging limp, Thenar called a halt to the gathering and conceded. He stood on the dais, surrounded by some of the most powerful and skilled dwarves in the realm, and declared Machai the victor of the gathering. Machai caught the eye of Kablis in the crowd and the two exchanged smiles of relief and resolve. They had won the day, but the work was only beginning to prepare for the battle ahead.

15 — Departure

Two days after the gathering had decided that Machai would get his troops, much had been accomplished to ready the dwarves for their departure. Nearly two hundred members of the FireFalls clan had volunteered to follow Machai and Kablis into war, and Machai had asserted that they would not force anyone to fight with them unwillingly, even if the gathering had given them the authority to do so. Thenar had no choice but to allow them to go, and the last thing Machai wanted was troops who resented his rebellion against their clan leader fighting by his side.

The necessary armor and weapons had been secured. Rations, tools, clothing, tents, blankets, and water skins had been collected. Maps of the Irua Realm and the regions they might travel through had been rolled and packed, and a variety of other tools and supplies were still being gathered. There were several people Machai needed to contact, but his morning had been filled with discussions with many of the gathering members to determine what contributions he could expect from the other clans. He had put off speaking with those members who had opposed him in the questioning, but inevitably he would have to face them and take an account of where their clan leaders stood. Machai hoped that the leaders would honor the gathering victory rather than being swayed by the prejudices of their clans’ representatives.

Festil had left early for IronForge, and his tone and expression toward Machai had been more respectful after his victory than it had been since he had arrived in FireFalls. His congratulations sounded genuine, and Festil had the familiar gleam of greed in his eyes when he confirmed that he would be among the three hundred dwarves who would meet up with Machai. He ended their conversation with a reminder that Machai had promised they would all learn the “spell to sneak up on me brother and be scaring ’im outta ’is breeches.”

Rhemt, the old sailor from SnowStand, had initiated a wand conversation with his clan leader while lying on a bed with ice wrapped in cloth packed around his limbs to ease the ache in his muscles from the unusual exertion of the gathering. The leader of SnowStand had interrupted the old man as he sang Machai’s praises for his valiant speech and commendable swordsmanship and promised to send one hundred fully equipped clan members immediately. Machai hadn’t even had a chance to speak with him about the details before Rhemt started up again and the clan leader quickly ended the communication link.

Machai sat with Furtl and Jom when they established communication with their clans. SteelBorne was hesitant to commit any troops without speaking to Thenar, but Furtl was able to convince his clan leader that he would bring a letter from Thenar acknowledging the gathering result. BlackAxe was willing to send the manpower, but they had a shortage of gear due to a recent cave-in that had buried one of their three armories. Much of the contents were recovered, but it would take time to restore the damaged gear to a usable state. Between the two clans, Machai was promised another one hundred and fifty troops, but he would have to hope that Osric could provide the lacking armor and weapons.

The leader of IronAnvil, FireFalls’ neighbor to the northeast, was curt but professional. He pledged fifty troops when he heard about Machai’s victory. Prex tried to persuade him that no other clan was sending so few men, and that the gathering had convinced him that a full commitment to support Machai and the Aranthians was prudent, but he was unconvinced even by the idea of new magic and skills.

Machai spoke to the leader of StoneStar last, and he had been disappointed and concerned by what he had heard. There had been several reports of small villages along the west coast of the peninsula being razed by dragon fire. StoneStar was some ways inland, in the foothills of the Stonehorn Mountains, but they feared they would be overtaxed by the relief needs of nearby villagers, and they were leery of sending any of their men away. When Legin heard this, he had informed Machai that he would help assess the situation and if they could spare the men he would uphold the decision of the gathering and send them. However, Machai was leaving immediately, and he was not confident that anyone from StoneStar would be joining in the war effort in the Irua Realm.

IceIsle was on the peninsula, much closer to the region where the dragon had been reported to be actively attacking, and Machai was worried that Kant would not do the same as Legin in advocating for his cause. He decided to send Kant home to evaluate IceIsle’s situation without seeking troops. He found the IceIsle dwarf easily enough and shared the news with him. Flushed with concern for his clan, Kant gathered his belongings quickly. Machai saw him off, wishing him and his clan well and asking that he call on FireFalls and the Aranthians if the clan was in need of aid against the dragon. Machai wasn’t sure what aid they would be able to offer, with the resources of able fighters stretched so thin already, but he hoped to prevent the clans from severing their relationship further over the gathering and the war.

The only clan that Machai had not yet spoken to was BillowBluff, and Hern had made it clear in the gathering that he did not support Machai and his efforts to recruit troops. BillowBluff was located on the eastern edge of the Stonehorn Mountains, northwest of SteelBorne. Though these mountains were far more forgiving than the range surrounding IronForge, it was still rough terrain. The clan leader, Staspin, was as hard as the stone and as inhospitable as the cold wind that blew past his door. Still, Machai hoped he would be more understanding of the stakes of the war than Hern, and he intended to make it clear that he was not placing his loyalties to Osric above that of his clan.

Machai found Hern having a drink with Thenar in the clan leader’s dining room. Maps were spread out all over the table in front of them, and both dwarves scowled as they looked down at the charts. Machai cleared his throat as he stepped into the room.

“Be ye here to be gloating?” Thenar’s speech was slightly slurred.

“Nay.” Machai held his hands open at his sides, a gesture of passivity. “I be hoping to be speaking with Hern.”

With red eyes, Thenar stared at Machai for some time before waving him in and sliding back the chair next to him. Machai took the seat.

“Ye be a thorn in me boots, boy, but ye be putting on a commendable show and winning fair. I willn’t be holding a grudge that ye be besting me in the gathering,” Thenar said. Machai exhaled slowly, hoping briefly that they could reconcile their differences before he departed for Stanton. “Still, ye be defying me one time too many, and for that I willn’t be forgiving ye. Hern here be speaking with Staspin, and in accordance with the gathering tradition, BillowBluff be sending one hundred and fifty men to be joining yer army. It be all they can be sparing.”

“That be very generous. I be grateful to ye and yer clan.” Machai directed his heartfelt words to Hern across the table. Hern only glared back in silence.

“Aye, ye be getting yer army. I be hoping ye be happy leading the men, knowing ye be never returning to yer home.” Thenar polished off his drink and slammed his stein down on the wooden table.

“Thener, I…”

“Ye what, boy? Ye be sorry ye be defying me every chance ye be getting? Ye be whining that it be not fair to be taking yer home from ye? What?” His final word was a hoarse shout as Thenar rose from his seat and loomed so close to Machai that he could feel his clan leader’s hot breath on his cheek. “Ye be fighting that battle to be getting yer way, but I be fighting to be keeping the trust and loyalty of me clan. Ye may be feeling victorious as ye march from these walls with two hundred of me men, but ye be the one who have to be telling them that marching behind ye means they be not welcome to return!”

“Ye would be banishing good men from FireFalls for fighting for those who be too few or too weak to be fighting for themselves? Be ye so shortsighted in yer anger at me that ye be punishing all who be fighting for what be right?” Machai kept his tone soft and respectful, but he could feel the flames of rage heating his blood and pulsing in his clenched fists.

“Nay, Machai. I be punishing all who be fighting for
ye
.” Thenar’s words were a low growl.

Machai stood up and Thenar backed away, although he never broke eye contact. As angry as he was, Machai was still terribly saddened by the finality of Thenar’s words. Machai had succeeded in what he set out to do; he would be bringing Osric an army—and one twice as large as he had promised, at that—but Machai would be giving up his home to do so. It was a cost he had known was possible, but that didn’t ease the weight he felt pressing on his chest, making each breath feel like he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. In the end, his sadness overwhelmed his anger, and Machai could not even form a response to Thenar’s unspoken challenge of violence. He merely nodded in resignation, gave a shallow and stiff bow, and turned and walked out of the room.

By the next morning, everything was packed and ready for departure. Machai stood on a flat, elevated rock just outside the crevice that led into the mountain of his home. Gathered before him were almost two hundred of his kin—men he had grown up with, men he had always looked up to, and many men he had spent his life training for battle—all armed and ready to march away from their home. Thenar’s words rang in Machai’s head like a clanging bell announcing the death of a warrior. It took all of his strength to raise his voice and address the crowd.

“The mighty dwarven clan of FireFalls be a proud line, a line to be proud of. Ye men be gathered here today because ye be believing that FireFalls, and the rest of Archana, be worth fighting for. Ye be hearing me words and heeding them, that the High-Wizard be a worthy man to be leading ye into battle against the force of a wretched man. Osric be worthy of every word of praise I ever be speaking of him, and ye be good and brave men to be here with me today. If ye truly be believing in this war, in the High-Wizard, and in me, then I be asking ye to be raising yer blades and be following me off of this mountain.” A forest of sharp steel was thrust into the sky amid a chorus of raucous shouts, but Machai raised his hand for silence. “But, before ye be following me, ye need to be knowing what it be costing ye, for no battle be free for the defeated, nor for the victor. Thenar be a good dwarf, a good leader of the FireFalls clan, and he be mighty furious that I be seeking an army for another man’s war. I be believing he be wrong that this be another man’s war, but he be sure he be doing what be right for the clan. Therefore, any man who be following me into battle be earning Thenar’s wrath.” Machai gazed out over the expectant faces gathered before him and took a deep breath. “If ye be leaving with me, ye willn’t be welcomed back. Anyone who be joining me in this army be a welcome member of the Aranthians, an honorable and just group founded to defend those who be in need of it, but no longer will ye be a member of the FireFalls clan.” A wave of silent shock spread throughout the crowd. They knew that Thenar would be angry about his defeat, and they didn’t expect him to be happy that so many of his clan members had joined the recruited force, but no one had expected Thenar to go so far as to banish anyone who followed Machai.