Shaping Magic (21 page)

Chapter 22

Aodhan was lying on a cot with Cora hovering over top of him. Lindon could see that he was in poor shape.

When Lindon walked into the tent, Cora looked up. “He is in bad shape. He has an infection in his lungs, but there is nothing we can do,” she said with sadness.

Aina looked at Lindon. “Is there anything you can do for him?”

He looked around the tent at the faces of everyone, and through the confusion on everyone’s faces, became aware that not everyone knew about his healing powers. He said, “I don't know; I will try, but I don't have any power to start.” He moved beside the bed. “Grams, I will need you to supply me with the energy to try.”

She was not understanding what Lindon was going to do, but the look of gratitude on Aina's face convinced her that this would be their only chance to save the dying man. “What do you need me to do?” she asked.

“I need you to send magic at me,” he said. “I may need a lot of it, so if you think you need help, send for another magi.”

Cora turned to the man that had led them to the underground training facility when they had first met Aodhan. “Annan, please send for Devin.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he turned and left the tent.

It didn't take long for Devin to arrive, and when he did Lindon told both him and his grandmother, “I will need both of you to supply me with magic to try and help Aodhan. Start slow and when I ask for more, increase slowly if you can. I don't know how much I will need, but keep it up for as long as you can.”

The magus, not sure of what Lindon meant by supply magic, turned to Cora. “What does he mean? If we hit him with raw power, he will die a very painful death.”

“No, actually he won't, but I don't know what he intends to do. If we do nothing, though, Aodhan will be dead soon. There is nothing we can do. If Lindon thinks he can help, we will do as he asks,” she asserted.

“Okay, I’m ready, just keep the magic directly on my back. Do not let it move off or someone could get hurt,” Lindon told the pair. “Arden, make sure no one interferes once we start.”

Lindon knelt beside the bed. Placing his hands on Aodhan's chest, he told them to start. First it was his grandmother who started, then with a look at Cora and then at Lindon's back, the magus shrugged his shoulders and mumbled to himself about the insanity of some people. He slowly started to let the flow of raw magic into Lindon’s back.

Once both of the magi's magic was flowing, Lindon slowly let the power start to flow into Aodhan. Letting his mind flow with the power, he could see the fluid in his lungs and the deterioration of all of the other organs. Old age was the main problem but there was something else not natural. He was confident that he could cure him and prolong his life. He called to both of the magic users to send more power into him and let more flow into Aodhan.

He didn’t know how long he had been healing when he could sense someone fall behind him, and the magic he was using was cut in half. He knew that he didn't have much time left, so he finished what he could do with the power he had left just as his grandmother collapsed from the effort of sustaining the constant flow of magic into Lindon.

Lindon rose unsteadily to his feet. “I have done all I can for him; with the power I had to work with, we couldn't use more magi. It would have been too hard to control that close to Aodhan. He should be awake soon, but he will still be weak. Take my grandmother and Devin to their tents and let them rest,” he told the group of stunned onlookers.

The look on the arrogant Elf was no longer one of derision; instead there was a look of fear and apprehension of what to make of a Human that could shape magic. Lindon had no energy to worry about it and pushed his way past him and out into the fresh air.

He had no other place to go, so made his way toward the Dwarven camp when Aina, Donovan, and Nara took up positions around him and helped him find his bed that had been set up beside Donovan's.

When he was on the bed he turned to Donovan. “Watch out for Nara; not everything is well in this place,” he said as he passed out.

Lindon slept the sleep of the exhausted. When he woke, the sounds of arguing were coming from outside his tent. Wearily he got up and buckled on his swords, and shielding his eyes from the morning sun, he stepped outside. There was a group of humans confronting Donovan and the Dwarfs.

“We demand weapons. You have them and we want them, and if we have to, we will just take them,” one of the men screamed at Donovan.

“Listen here, boy, if you try, you will die. We will not allow anyone to take what is ours and will defend ourselves if necessary,” Donovan calmly answered.

The looks that the humans were giving each other were a mix of fear and desperation. Lindon could see that this could get out of hand very fast. Stepping up beside Donovan, Lindon said, “What's going on? I am sure there is no need for violence.”

“These men have it in their heads that we should just give them our weapons without paying or even trading for them, and we happen to disagree with them,” Donovan told Lindon.

“Is this true?” he asked the leader of the mob. In Lindon’s head, an idea was forming—a way to get the humans organized and onside with the coming war.

The Human at least had the decency to look ashamed for his actions, but Lindon could tell that he wasn't going to back down.

“We need them to fight; we don't have many weapons, which we’ll need when the king and his monsters come for us. Most of us have lost loved ones to them, and we want to strike back, but we can't without swords,” the man said in a rush.

“I see. As strong as your need is, this is not the way to do it. If you just try to take what isn't yours then you are no better than them,” Lindon said, loud enough for everyone in the mob to hear. “The ones that have taken your homes from you and killed your people are the same ones that took the homes of the Dwarfs you see here.” Lindon paused, letting that sink in before he continued. “We have traveled a long way to get here and they need time to rest and mourn the ones they have lost.”

Lindon looked around at the faces of the men and could see the plight of the Dwarfs hit home; they had suffered the same as them. “We will all be fighting these invaders, as one. Whether you're Human, Elf, or Dwarf, we have to work together to defeat them, or if we don't then they will win and not only will we be dead but so will be everyone you care about. We are not only fighting for our homes but also for our right to live in this world.” Lindon finished, afraid he may have gone too far in his description. Most of the people here would not believe the true threat unless it was standing here staring them in the eye, and even then, some would probably still not believe it.

Lindon again was watching the faces of the men. He could see that his words were having the desired effect for most, but as in any group of Humans there were some that the only thing they would listen to was strength. So he wasn't surprised when a voice spoke up. “Why should we listen to this boy? We are here, we’re stronger than them, let's just take what we want.”

He could see that if left unchecked there would be more voices joining in. “I will make a deal with all of you here,” Lindon said, hoping that Donovan wouldn't object. “Get five of your best fighters, meet me at your training area in one hour, and if they can beat me, then I will get you all the weapons you will need. If I win then, we do it my way!”

He gave them a few minutes to talk among themselves before asking, “What say you? Do we have a deal?” He did not look at Donovan, not wanting to see his reaction, and he closed off his thoughts so he couldn't object privately.

Lindon knew he was taking a risk, but someone had to do something. The Human camp was in disarray and without some kind of leadership it wouldn't be long before there would be fighting between them, and the Human camp outnumbered both the Elves and Dwarfs almost two to one; it would not be pretty.

The men that had been the spokesmen for the group stepped forward. “Do you agree to this?” they asked Donovan.

Lindon held his breath, waiting for the Dwarf to answer. With a look up at Lindon, he had pledged himself and his people to this young man. Trusting in him was not hard—after all he had done for his people, if this is what he needed, he would do all he could to help. “Yes,” he said simply.

At Donovan's agreement, Lindon let out his breath. “Choose your men and meet me in one hour.” Lindon turned back and walked to his tent to wait for Donovan.

He didn't have to wait long. Donovan entered shortly after the boy. “Can you beat them?” he asked as soon as he let the tent flap close.

“I don't know, but if I hadn't made the deal with them there would have been bloodshed, and that is something we cannot allow or we will all fail,” Lindon said, partially pleading with the Dwarf, hoping he would understand.

“If you win, then what?” Donovan asked.

“That's having confidence,” Lindon said with a smile. “I don't know. They need leadership. Even with the healing I don't think Aodhan is going to be able to and if not him, I don't know who else could. I may be way off base here. I haven't even had a chance to talk with Arden or my grandmother but there isn't time now. I will have to go ahead and just hope that it is the right thing to do.”

“Fair enough; I am behind you, Lindon. I have pledged myself to you, not only when I agree with you but even when I don't. As long as every once in a while you will listen to some advice, I will stand with you.”

Lindon was touched by the Dwarf’s sincerity, and, feeling bad about doubting him, he clasped Donovan's shoulder. “My friend, I will stand with you the same as you stand with me; your opinion is one I will always value,” he said with a catch in his voice.

“Good, then, get ready. You have your work cut out for you, and I don't want to distract you from it.” Smiling, Donovan left Lindon to prepare for the coming fight.

Upon stepping onto the training area, Lindon was surprised to see many elves to the side. Lindon didn't think word would have reached them so fast. Looking to his opponents, he was not impressed with what he saw. If they were the best, it would take a lot more training than he had hoped for.

The weapons that they carried were not the best quality, and he could see now why they had been so eager to have the Dwarven weapons. “All in good time,” he said to himself. First they would have to be taught how to use them and how to work with each other and the other races.

Lindon did not like having to humiliate people, but he had to show them that they were woefully unprepared for what was to come. Having made up his mind to not hold back and quickly eliminate them, he stepped up to face them.

“Are these your champions?” he shouted to the crowd of men and woman watching.

Lindon watched the crowd to see if any disagreed; not seeing any, he continued. “And will you agree with the outcome? If they win, you will receive the weapons you need!” The response was immediate: A cheer went up from the onlookers.

He waited until the noise stopped, then said, “If I win, you will all agree to do it my way. You will be trained and taught how to be an army, not just a mob.” As he waited for his words to sink in, he scanned the crowd for dissent. “What say you?” he shouted.

The response was not as great as when he merely offered the weapons with no strings but from what he could tell there was agreement. “Then let us begin,”

He waited for the men to advance so he could spot their weaknesses. Seeing how they moved, Lindon was confident he would win, but not wanting to become overconfident and make a mistake, he waited for them to make the initial attack.

It was not so much that the men didn't know how to use their weapons—it was more that they didn't know how to work with each other to the best gain. They were more concerned with being the one to score a hit on Lindon. Instead of working together to set him up so another could strike a blow, they got in the way of one another more often than not.

Ducking one swing, Lindon struck to one of the men on the right, catching him in the rib section. He pulled his strike so it wouldn't go in to deep; he didn't want to kill these men, only beat them. The man he struck screamed out in pain and fell back out of the fight. Using the distraction, he swung twice more at the unprepared men. Hitting both times, two more of the men backed out of the fight, realizing that their minor wounds were a good excuse to escape this fight without losing face.

Now Lindon was left with just two opponents, the same two who had been the main instigators with the Dwarfs. Lindon wasted no time in disarming both men with a sword at both of their throats. “Do you yield?” he asked both men. Nodding their head in unison, Lindon lowered his weapons. Do you know why you lost here today?” he asked the men.