The High-Wizard's Hunt - By Ashley Delay Page 0,59
man about to stab a dwarf as he fended off a second attacker, feeling chills from the flow of magic. There was no glory or honor from a death without the hunt, but at times it was necessary. Osric forced his regrets deep within and continued. He felt a surrender within his mind as the sword and his hands danced a deadly dance.
Each blade his crossed slid off with little effort. With his breathing controlled and his gift activated, he was a whirlwind of effortless motion. He cut down two more men who staggered their attacks, high and low. He pushed the low attack away with his wand, deflected the slash at his throat and rolled left. With a thrust, he ran his sword through the back of one man, and into the neck of the low attacker, simultaneously.
Osric took a moment to survey the battle as he pulled his sword from the men. It was clear that the dwarves were experienced warriors, and very few of them lay bloody and dying on the ground. Aron had himself surrounded by men helping to fight off an attack from three of Kablis’ guards. Machai seemed to be reveling in battle, his laughter echoing off the nearby cliffs. Kenneth had abandoned the bow in favor of his blade but appeared to be outmatched against the eight men attacking him.
Osric whispered and appeared behind the men, running his blade through two before the others even noticed him. His wand turned aside attack after attack, as his blade brought down each man it faced. Osric and Kenneth stood side by side, aided by their gifts as the Turgent’s highly trained men fell before them.
It was becoming clear to Osric, that though they were outnumbered, the battle would soon end in victory. The number of surviving soldiers was in their favor as he gazed out through the carnage.
The Portentist gift flared with danger and Osric turned, looking for the threat. There were only a few men left fighting the dual wielding dwarfs, but something was wrong. The pull began to take on a direction and his attention was drawn to Aron. The Braya commander was grasping Machai from behind as two men shielded him from the advancing axes.
“Hold,” Osric called out as he ran forward. He could see, as he peered into the magic realm, that Aron was slowly freezing the dwarf, and it was only Machai’s Elemental Fire gift that was keeping him alive. “I said hold!” Osric cursed himself silently for not inspecting Aron to learn of his innate ability of Elemental Ice.
Aron’s sneer followed Osric as he approached. Hate filled eyes watched him, and with a pull at Machai’s throat, he ordered Osric to stop his advance. “Don’t come any closer!”
The fighting stopped, and the eight remaining soldiers gathered around Aron. Fear clung to each man as they cowered with uncertainty, hoping for a way out of the battle with the dwarves.
“I should have known that you were here,” Aron spat. Malevolence burned hot on his face as he followed Osric’s movement.
“No need to act any further. You win.” Osric tried to reason with him, sheathing his sword and wand. He had known that he would make enemies while freeing the dragons, but losing Machai was an unacceptable price to have to pay. “Let him go, and you can have the weapons.” He could feel the importance of Machai’s life within as his various gifts barraged him with warnings.
“The weapons aren’t enough. This dwarf needs to answer for his crimes, so I think I will bring him back with me.” Aron’s loathsome feelings were clear. It wasn’t only Osric that had gained his reproach, it was all those who helped to free the dragons from their enslavement, and defeat Aron’s men in the process.
Osric could see the cold from Aron seeping deeper into Machai. He held out his hands to show he was unarmed, maintaining eye contact.
“I don’t think you will leave here alive if you try to take him.” Osric motioned to the remaining dwarves. “We must be able to come to a compromise. You take the weapons, and leave Machai with us. I will make sure that you are allowed to leave.” He could hardly believe his own words, but he knew it was right. Making sure that Machai survived was more important than the weapons. He would make sure that Machai lived, even if he wasn’t able to understand the significance or discern which gift was prompting the impression.