The source of magic, p.18
The Source of Magic, page 18
As one they moved past him. The corn was wondrous to them and each of them found an ear to pick and try for themselves, cherishing the bounty within the green sea.
John stood next to Melanie and as they watched the joy of the villagers, he said, “Good work, sweetheart.”
Chapter 12
Selphie followed Chloe down the side of the inn. Her sister was going at a steady pace and she was not able to make any ground on her without breaking into a jog. Being built for comfort over speed, she settled into maintaining the distance until Chloe stopped and she could catch up. The power she felt with herself from sex with John was magical in nature. Chloe still had the upper hand in all things physical.
Chloe stopped at a low fence that separated the village from some pastures. The pastures were devoid of livestock, having been emptied for the war effort. She screamed and kicked out, sharply striking a high horizontal beam with the ball of her foot, her toes stretched back out of the way for protection.
She had been involved in combat sports even before the Academy, though her parents thought it was unseemly for a lady to be learning about such things with the boys and men. When she landed her kick, the whole fence reverberated with the force behind it.
“What are you so upset about?” Selphie asked having finally caught up.
“I’m not upset," Chloe lied, rubbing a tear away from a red cheek with the heal of her hand.
“You’re alway upset about something. It doesn’t take a sister to know that,” said Selphie flippantly.
“I just can’t believe you fucked John!” Chloe snapped.
“What of it? You had sex with him. I don’t see what the difference is,” said Selphie.
“We had to get out of that place. So yeah, I did fuck him. But you didn’t have to. You just wanted him for the magic he could give you," Chloe said, looking out towards the hills beyond the pastures, unable to look at he sister because of the rage it caused to bubble up.
She didn’t even know herself full what she felt about John. But there was something in the way he stood up to her challenges. He was firm but kind when everyone else in her life had just complained or abandoned her as too much trouble. The way he had met her energy, standing his ground but letting her be herself when they had sex, was something she would still think about in her quiet moments.
“You don’t care about John, you just want him for his magic," Chloe shot at her sister. "You alway do something like this. First you begged our parents to go to the Academy because you thought if you spent all your time pouring over ancient scrolls and books by dead idiots that you would find some mystic knowledge.
“Then when you learnt how to use runes, you thought you could summon some kind of magical weapon.
“And don’t pretend that you like Melanie all of the sudden, you only care about what she can teach you about totems. You’re just using her now like you did when we had to sneak past the city guards to get out of the capital.”
“You little bitch,” spat Selphie. "Don’t act like you’re so much better than me. You look down your nose at everyone and spit in the faces of anyone who try to help you. You hate our parents even though they gave us everything we could have wanted. You somehow get it into your head that their wealth and position are being wasted, and never stopped arguing with them about it, so you ran off to the Academy. But you didn’t fit in there either. You were always fighting with the lecturers and thinking you know better than wizards three times your age. You were more than happy to go along with the plan because you thought it would prove you right.”
There was an angry silence sizzling in the air between the two sisters.
Chloe was determined not to let her sister be right. There and then she swore to herself that she was going to be with John and she would stick it out.
Once again she stormed away from her sister and left Selphie standing by the pastures. She knew what she wanted but needed time to calm down so she headed off down a road just to burn off steam and plan her move. She knew she didn’t have much time and needed to get Melanie on side.
Her path took her down the road to the forest. She was a decent way down the road into the trees when she rounded a corner and stopped suddenly and peered into the far distance. When she finally made out the shapes separate from the dark shadows cast by trees, she turned and started running.
John was back at the inn, standing in a small circle with Malcolm two geriatric men and a handful of women from the village. They were the closest thing the village had to a ruling council, though no one had ever voted for them.
Melanie guarded the totem at a nearby table. Now, having seen the spell that it could cast in action, the children of the village were even more interested in than when it was glowing with green light. She had to take a firm hand and slapped away the tiny hands and arms that were reaching for it. Unfortunately, the children took this as a challenge and turned ‘touch the totem’ into a game amongst themselves.
“We don’t have much left in the village to offer you, we would give you a fair price if we could,” said one old man earnestly.
“How much coin do you have?” John asked.
“We could perhaps scrape together copper and silver that added up to a gold,” was the answer after some discussion among the group. “You see the war and all. We haven’t had any crops to trade, not that there has been much ability to do so with the savages roaming the countryside.”
John held a poker face with his hands on his hips as he considered their offer. He was not unkind to their predicament and he knew how much the totem would mean for their village. It would literally mean the difference between life and death for some of them. But he suspected every village he went to would have the same situation. In the long run the way to help them would be to end the war. And to do that they needed provisions.
“If you can find some proper clothes for the two blond sisters. And we can have our room here at the inn for as long we needed it you have a deal," John finally announced.
There were general nods of agreement from around the group. A rust haired woman with a large mole on her chin that reminded John of an elementary school teacher spoke for their group.
“We agree to your terms,” she said with a curt nod.
The group split up and some volunteering to find clothes while others were headed off to do a collection from the rest of the villagers who were currently involved in harvesting the corn while avoiding tripping over toddlers who were chasing each other through the stalks.
Malcolm turned to speak to John privately now that the group had disbanded. “Thank you John. You have no idea what this means to us and I know you should have chosen to hold out for more or travel to a proper town to get a better price.”
“Kindness repays kindness,” said John, a little uncomfortable with the suddenly effusive emotions from Malcolm.
“That reminds me, you can have your coat back," Malcolm offered, fetching it from a peg behind the bar and holding it up with his wooden prosthetic. “It doesn’t fit me anyway.”
Melanie approached the two of them and handed the totem over to Malcolm.
“I have carved this so that it will fill with magic when you place it on the bolder the children call The Giant’s Head. After a week, when it is glowing, copy what I did, drawing big circles with it, while pointed at a field and the spell will be cast. Make sure that there is no one standing where the spell will be cast," Melanie explained.
Malcolm nodded gravely and locked the totem away safely in a cupboard under the bar.
Selphie returned to the inn, having calmed down from her fight with Chloe. She was impressed by all the corn that was being piled up on the tables. As she walked by she overheard a number of recipes being discussed.
The elementary school teacher returned with a handful of coins and two sets of clothes neatly folded. John thanked her and then handed the clothes over to Selphie.
“Where’s your sister?” John asked.
As soon as he asked, John saw Chloe running then slow to a stop outside the inn. She was sweating profusely and gulping huge lungfuls of air while she bent over resting her hands on her thighs.
John, Melanie and Selphie all rushed out. They could see that the hem of her dress was torn in places and there were red, dirt filled grazes on her leg and elbow from when she had tripped and fell on the road back to the village.
“Savages,” Chloe managed to get out in between deep breaths. “The forest road. A small group. Coming soon.”
Some of the villagers, including Malcom, overheard her. The were used to the savages coming by, but hated them all the same. They were keenly aware of the crop they had just picked and did not want to have got surrender it up to them.
Malcolm called for calm: “Everyone, take some corn and hid it in your homes. Don’t mention it to anyone. They may just be passing through.”
There was a flurry of activity from the villagers.
“We’re going to stay out of sight in our room," John said to Malcolm. "I have a feeling we don’t fit in here, and we’d rather avoid questions about who we are or how we got here.”
The four of them hustled up to their room and closed the door. The clothes from the villagers were about the right size for the sisters, though they did have a certain threadbare quality to them that spoke of hand-me-downs and things found at the back of wardrobes.
Selphie fit into the long-sleeved green dress. It had a high empire waistline that fell away from her bust which was only slightly more demure than Melanie’s.
Chloe had an outfit which John suspected had belonged to Sally the blacksmith. The women’s breeches were a hardy brown cloth and a leather short-sleeved jerkin left Chloe’s midriff showing. The outfit suited her figure, clinging to her tight arse and showing off her abs, still glistening with sweat from her run.
The group then had the difficult time of waiting to see what would happen next. It was an anxious time where they couldn’t move except to quietly tiptoe or speak except in a whisper in case the savages were to come into the inn and demand to see who was staying in the rooms.
John noticed the way Chloe was avoiding her sister, who sat on the bed with Melanie, choosing instead to sit on the floor with her back against a wall.
The savages weren’t too far behind Chloe. All up, there were ten men in the group walking on foot.
Whereas John and the women had entered the village with looks of slight suspicion, the villagers were displaying outright hostility on their faces as the savages walked by.
The savages were pale blue all over with dark blue-black paint around their eyes and stripes in various places to accentuate scars or a line of muscle. The one thing their blue colouring didn’t make them look was funny.
The mix and match of brown leather and burnished steel armour wore the dints and scratches of numerous engagements and they carried their swords, spears and axes with a familiar ease. Their hair was mostly black, though some had brown and even fewer blond. Even though their hair was cut long they kept it out of the way with long plaits.
Having used the crossroads upon which the village of Dewville was situated a number of times before they knew where they were going and headed straight to the village square. It was late afternoon and they debated the merits of stopping overnight at the inn amongst themselves. One man handed his spear to another soldier and went to the well at the side of the inn and drew up a pail of water to so that they could all quench their thirst.
It was a tense time for the villagers, who did everything they could to revert to their old ways of moving before a couple of good meals with meat and filled with freshly picked and eaten corn. The small children who were yet to fully grasp the concept of secrets and who they should be kept from had been bundled into out of sight into houses upon word of the approaching soldiers. Worse than revealing the presence of the corn and risking having it taken was talking about the magic that had brought it there.
The savages gathered on the steps of the hall opposite the inn and one of them went inside to ring the bell. The clanging of the town bell rang out for the second time that day, though everyone knew it would not be for a happy reason this time.
As the crowd gathered to hear what the savage soldiers had to say, John and the women snuck out of their room and, keeping low, crept up to hear what was going on. The inn was empty save for Malcolm who was standing in the doorway providing a decent amount of cover as his girth blocked most of the view.
Once they had all gathered, the leader of the soldiers, though he wore no rank or insignia to identify his status, stood on the steps leading up to the hall with his soldiers as the villagers milled about whispering to each other and guessing what the gathering was for.
The leader called out in a voice not too differently accented from the villagers themselves, “Every time we come through a village, we ask about where your cowardly army has run off to. They leave the country side undefended to their enemies. They take your men and run. They leave you to starve. Your village is luckier than most. I saw the corn you have managed to grow in the field on our walk into the village.”
There was some disheartened whispers among the crowd as they suspected a confiscation was about to take place.
“Do not worry,” the leader continued. "We are not here to take your food. We only take what we need to live, and we have enough food for now. We have no desire to see you in the ground.
“Today we bring news of a reward. Though it is against our custom, as none of our brothers or sisters would turn against their clan, it has been recommended by emissaries from other kingdoms that you would give us information in exchange for coin.
“Anyone who can give us information that will help us find the coward army will receive a reward. The more useful the information, the greater the reward.”
There was silence in both the soldiers and the villagers as everyone turned over in their mind what was being said. To prove his offer was genuine, he took a large leather purse from his hip and tossed it up into the air a few times so that when he caught it there was a heavy metallic sound made by all the coins within.
Still the crowd was silent so the leader moved from the steps and fished out a silver coin. He held it up so the crowd could see and then knelt down on one knee and beckoned a small boy with sandy blond hair over.
Though his mother tried to hold him, the boy wriggled free and trotted over on small, pudgy feet. He was so small, his lack of stature exacerbated by lack of food, that he still had to look up to the kneeling soldier.
“You’re a brave boy,” the leader said loudly so the surrounding crowd could hear. "Not like the army of full grown men we are looking for. Take this silver coin that is so valuable to you. If you hear anything about the army, you remember it well, and the next time I am in your village you come up to me just like you are now and tell me. Then you will have a lot more like it.”
The leader then stood up and called out again, “The same goes for all of you. Any information about the army will be paid for in silver and gold coins. We don’t value it as you do, so it may as well be in your pockets rather than mine. Yes?”
“I know something.” The voice was small and came from the centre of the crowd.
They had to part like curtains being drawn to show a gangly brown-haired girl standing by herself. John recognised Constance immediately. He hadn't thought of her since she ran leaving them to the attacking deer.
“What do you know, girl?” asked the leader as he stepped forward to face her, hefting the coin purse in his hand.
“There are people hiding here that aren’t from the village. A man and three women. They wear wealthy clothing and can perform magic with totems.”
Leaning in even closer, holding two gold pieces between his fingertips, he whispered, “And where are they hiding?”
“There,” she pointed to the inn.
“Run!” John shouted.
As a group the shoved past Malcolm’s bulk as he stood aided for them. Quickly turning right, they ran down the road leading back to the woods.
The first challenge for the savage soldiers was to push and shove their way through the crowd of villagers who, though not foolhardy enough to actively try and stop the soldiers, didn’t make any effort to move. A number of them ended up shoved onto the ground as the soldiers muscled their way through the bodies.
John led the way and had a speed advantage on the women that meant he could slow to look over his shoulder and make sure they were keeping up. He was closely followed by Chloe who was showing perfect form in her new outfit. Melanie's powerful legs gave her a natural advantage over the humans and helped to make up for her impractical attire. Falling behind was Selphie. Lacking in the fitness and strength of the others, and wearing a dress that hindered easy movement she was having trouble running with any speed.
If they could make it to the stream, they had a chance. The could jump over into the magic world and lay low. They would have to take their chances that another killer deer wouldn’t show up.
The soldiers had their own encumbrances to deal with. They were fighting fit but had to carry the extra weight of their armour and weapons. They were used to the weight and moved with steely resolve after their prey. They held back from outright sprinting, rather keeping a pace that was high speed but could be maintained over a distance. They meant to wear the group out and watch for one of them to make a misstep.
John slowed and took up pace with Selphie, letting the Chloe and Melanie run ahead. He could see by the way she was running that she had a stitch and that the initial bout of adrenaline that gave her any speed was now gone.
Moving slower and slower with each step, Selphie was eventually shuffling along at a walking pace, completely fatigued.
John stopped and turned to face the soldiers who were quickly approaching. They would have to make a stand and fight. Hiding was no longer an option. He assessed the soldiers as the came closer and closer.
They moved in a loose formation, as a collection of individuals rather than a close-knit unit. Each man was moving at his own pace and picking his own path to run.
