The Weaving of Wells (Osric's Wand, Book Four) (26 page)

The sight of the family huddled together for comfort in a time of danger was hard for Dredek to watch. Had his mate comforted his sons on their last day? Had Aeya spoken soft lies to dull their fear in the dark winter night? Did they see the army coming, or did they die asleep in their beds? Dredek didn’t know, and now he was the one bringing the fear. But it must be done; there was no other way to bring them back. He shook himself out of his daze as Visah began to nod in agreement with her father’s plea.

“Peg, es ness.” She pulled away from Freyn’s embrace. Her lips quivered when she looked to her captor. But there was something in her eyes, something primal that allowed her to gain some courage.

Dredek wasn’t entirely sure what she had said, but he knew from the Portentist gift that she would show him the way. “Good.” He nodded. “Now, I hope you can understand that I can’t have you conscious when we open the door. I won’t kill you, you have my word.” He had already been forced to kill too many men to bring about his plans.

He slipped a small vial from his satchel and held it out for the father to take. “It will make you sleep, but no harm will come to you or your children. I swear it.” His voice was softer than he had intended and Freyn looked at him, confused. “Give it to the boy, first, but no more than two drops—one, if you can manage it. He will fall asleep before he finishes swallowing it.”

Freyn unstoppered the glass and smelled the contents with a wary eye. He tipped it back on the cork as the boy lay down on his back. They spoke light words of comfort, assuring Visah that they would be okay until she returned. Then the father turned the wet cork over and watched carefully until a single drop landed in Keth’s mouth.

True to the promise, the boy fell asleep without another movement. Freyn watched his chest rise and fall until he was satisfied his son was safe. Then, rewetting the cork, he asked, “Why?”

“Why?” Dredek searched for a meaning to the question.

“Why threaten our lives, only to pay in kindness when you have what you need?” Pausing with the cork upturned in his hand, Freyn looked up with earnest eyes.

“No kindness was paid to my family at their end.” Dredek looked him in the eye. “But, now they will live again.”

Freyn looked back with wide eyes. A mix of awe and fear traced the rough face. He leaned back against the wall, lifting the cork. “I wish you luck. Please, if you succeed, show us mercy again.” He touched the cork to his tongue and went limp.

“When I am finished…” Dredek bowed his head and took a deep breath. “I’ve made no plans for myself on that day.”

The chamber was silent in spite of coughs, chains, and whispered words from the other cells. He had what he needed, and it was a disappointment. Dredek had expected to be reveling in his achievements, but instead it had brought back memories of loss and pain. He stood there in silence, watching Visah comfort her sleeping family. All he could do was wish he had been with Aeya, Chehl, and Tweggan, to offer them comfort on the day they were killed. He wished he could have died with them.

After a suitable few moments of punishing memories, Dredek looked up to see Visah standing at the door, ready to leave. He looked around the chamber and remembered that he had the room vacated and no guard was left to open the door. Taking a deep breath, he stood up straight and prepared himself to look the part of a leader again.

“Guards!” The door opened and light streamed into the room. “Bring the girl.” Dredek turned and walked slowly to the door. Keys rattled in the lock, and rusty hinges squealed as the door to the cell opened. Visah cried out from rough treatment and he turned back to the men.

“No!” When he faced Aeya again, he wanted her to be able to recognize him. Before all this, he had been a gentleman. “You will treat her as a guest or I’ll see to it you don’t make it home to enjoy your gold.”

The men gently motioned for Visah to follow. Dredek felt some small amount of pride in how quickly they changed tactics. He thought he saw the guard on the left offer an arm to Visah as an escort, but he had then decided against it and withdrew the arm.

“Get some lights up in the cells. Start cleaning and feeding the prisoners better. We’re not animals!” He smiled as they passed by him, Visah leading the way to the well.

17 — Homefront

Toby looked out at the room. He hadn’t expected there to be as many gathered in the room as there was. This was the first official assembly in the newly restored palace since the peace treaty ratification that was attacked over a year earlier. Voices echoed off of the stone walls; they were all passionate about the issues before them, and they were worried. Kenneth walked down the center of the room in his Vigile dress uniform, climbed the stairs of the raised dais, and took a seat at the far right of the table.

Quickly surveying the room, Toby noticed all five of his hains, his main advisors, were present: Desmond, Kirkus, Megan, Staut, and Trevan. In addition, the leader of the trade guild, Yessip, had taken time out of his very busy day to join the meeting. Then, of course, Kenneth was in attendance. And these were only the ones who could fit at the lead table.

Toby stood up, holding his hands out to silence the crowd. Only a few of the gatherers noticed the gesture, but they began to spread the word and conversations started to dwindle from a roar to a whisper. It didn’t take long before he had the attention of everybody in the room.

“We all know why we’re here. So, why don’t we start this with a summation from our hain of treasury. Staut, please take the floor.” Toby bowed and motioned him to step to the front of the table, then the ryhain sat back down. Staut stepped to the opposite side of the table, walked to center stage, and offered his hand to Toby, showing respect. Toby took his hand and bowed back, signaling for him to speak.

“Rowain’s refugees have caused a significant strain to our already limited coffers.” Staut opened the ledger he carried under his right arm.

“My home has been broken into three times!” A tall, skinny man stood up and shouted from the back of the room.

“I’ve got forty people sleeping in my fields each night. They’ve nearly eaten my entire crop of cabbage!” A woman stood up at the front of the room.

“Two of my horses are missing!”

“They’ve taken over my barn!”

“They tore apart two of my carts and are using them to build camp fires!”

The room erupted with a cacophony of voices. Who had made the complaints and what wrongs had been done were lost in the commotion. Otherwise kind and reasonable individuals were now shouting and shoving each other in an attempt to be heard. The Vigile guards at the doors looked nervously at each other and then towards Kenneth, who signaled for them to calm their nerves.

“Please, please!” Toby stood up, addressing the crowd. “We can’t accomplish anything if we conduct ourselves in this manner!” Slowly, the volume began to decline until the Stanton citizens looked up at the table with concerned expressions.

“Hundreds flock to Stanton each day. Not only to our walls, but to other cities as well. They flee Rowain in an attempt to find new homes and safety. We see them. Not all bring mischief in their wake. Most are honest, hard-working families.” Toby leaned on the table, earnestly speaking with the assembly.

“I need twenty-five new Vigile recruits, minimum, just to begin keeping peace in Stanton.” Kenneth spoke up from his seat at the end. “I’ll take you, if you want to join,” he said, looking out at the crowd.

“Look, I realize that the resources of the city are stretched thin, and all of your concerns are valid. While I can’t promise that there will be no more trouble from the refugees, I can assure you that I will find a way to keep our city safe and secure. Please.” Toby gazed out at the assembled expressions of fear and anger. “Continue to welcome these people with the grace and generosity that has brought them here in the first place. The guard will be reinforced, and we will come through this time stronger if we stick together and keep our trust in others.” Toby watched as his words lent a small measure of calm to the crowd. Some even smiled at the reminder that it was their good-hearted nature that made the outcast from Rowain seek solace in Stanton. He looked over to Kenneth and an idea struck him.

“How are the new walls, anyway?” Toby looked to Staut for an answer.

“Uh…” He adjusted his glasses. “The walls were finished three days ago, sir.”

“Great!” Toby clapped his hands. “Yessip, I think we can do something to help speed things along, if you could help me?” He smiled.

“I am at your service, of course.” Yessip bowed his best seated bow.

“I hear that there are still many positions that need to be filled in Stanton,” Toby prompted.

“Yes, sir. With all the help lost in the palace collapse, plus the battle against the Kallegian, it’s understandable that we haven’t been able to replace the ones who were lost.” The leader of the Trade Guild had his hands in many different businesses. He knew more about the business situation in Stanton than any other man.

“So, we have new walls and few to man them. And we have many merchants in search of help, with many positions yet to be filled in the palace. Then, we have hundreds flocking to our walls on a daily basis with no work. Why is it that all we can think about is the trouble that has been caused by these people, and have taken no notice of the aid they could bring to us?” Toby leaned forward in his chair.

“The walls were meant to keep them out. How could we let them in when we built the walls to keep them out?” Staut stuttered.

“We built the wall to keep out armies, like the Kallegian, not poor folks left behind by a sadistic leader.” Kenneth laughed.

“But…” Nervously, out of habit, Staut looked to his books as he searched for something to say.

“Yessip.” Toby turned his attention away. “In two days we will be holding a welcoming party for those who have turned to Stanton for a new home. See to it the market district is prepared to welcome them. Have the merchants that need help prepare. If we claim to be on the side of right, we need to be doing right by those that are left in the cold by those doing wrong.”

“Of course, it will be done.” Yessip nodded respectfully.

“I am sure there are many among those fleeing Rowain who have gold as well. Inviting them to join us could help to bolster our already strained economy.” Staut looked up from his books expectantly.

“And the more appealing we can make Stanton appear, the better our chances to be the place they stay.” Toby looked at him approvingly. “So if we can find any room to offer the markets some support, it could go a long way toward securing our town as their new home.” He motioned for the two to work together.

“But what about our homes? We have been robbed on many occasions! Are we supposed to look the other way?” A large man stood at the front of the crowd with a child at his side. His homespun clothing and hearty build suggested he was a farmer.

“Kenneth, could you set a few Vigiles outside the walls to help our farms stay safe until we get things sorted? Maybe see if you could get a few volunteers.” Toby looked to Kenneth at his left. Though those who inhabited Stanton knew that the Aranthians dwelled in their town, Toby knew that making the Aranthians a part of daily life could set a dangerous precedent, so he kept the implied favor between the two of them.

“I think I could spare a few men, and I am sure our mutual friend would be willing to give us all the help we need until I can train the new volunteers.” He knew what Toby was indicating when he asked for volunteers, and it wasn’t the town population he wanted working with the Vigile troops.

“Good.” Toby nodded. “Now, I am sure some of you”—he looked back at the farmer—“could find suitable aid and the laborers you need from those outside the walls? You shouldn’t have to put your children to work until they are finished with classes.”

“I suppose I could use some help. I’ve been looking at purchasing more land. I’ve just been waiting until more crops were needed.” He looked down at his son. “And I suppose he could put more effort into his schooling.”

“Good, then it is settled. We will do what we can for the next couple days to negate the threat they bring, and then we will attempt to have many of them become a part of us. We can manage the threats that come afterward at that time.” Toby stood up, signaling the guards to begin ushering the people out of the room.

The room’s inhabitants began to funnel out the door at the back. The hains stepped down from the dais to join the others as Toby and Kenneth stepped to the side to confer.

“Do you plan to see Osric soon?” Toby stepped close and whispered softly.

“As soon as I leave this room. I’ll try to get as many Aranthians as I can to help us. I am certain I can get a couple dozen of their finest for the next few days. They aren’t planning anything sooner than that, as far as I know,” Kenneth replied.

“That sounds great, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me accompanying you—there is a rather large favor I wish to ask of Osric, and I don’t want to have it delivered as a message.

* * *

“I had him trusted early the morning before me and Serha…” Aridis shook, still unable to speak of the events that had happened. The old man looked shrunken and haggard from a week of drug-aided sleep and too little food. He wrapped his hands around his warm mug of rulha, but he hadn’t taken a single drink. The dining hall in the Aranthian headquarters buzzed with quiet conversations, and Aridis struggled to maintain his focus on the question that Osric had asked. He had been struggling with most everything lately, but he silently chastised himself. Aridis knew that for events to unfold in the desired direction he must continue on his path, and if Serha had still been there, she would have insisted that he put his best foot forward. It took too much out of him to even discuss the particulars that had taken place before her death. Eight days had been little time to mourn, but his body had recovered so it was time to get back to work. Luckily, everyone understood the direction his statement was heading in, and Osric gracefully saved him from having to hear himself speak of it again.