The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two

The High-Wizard’s Hunt

Book Two in the Osric’s Wand Series

Jack D. Albrecht Jr.

&

Ashley Delay

Kindle Edition

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Table of Contents

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About the Authors

Aknowledgments

Copyright

World Map

Contact Information

Escape

Thom gingerly rubbed his sore, swollen jaw as he paced back and forth in the cell. He glared angrily at the other men who occupied the space. It had been a while since they had heard any activity from the other side of the door, and he was growing anxious. Aron grumbled at him sternly to sit down, but his desire to mangle Osric for punching him and locking them in the cell was too great for him to sit idle. Thom mumbled under his breath.

“I’d love to tear that dragon lover limb from limb.” He spun quickly and charged the door with his shoulder. He hit hard, and to his surprise the door gave way, sprawling him unceremoniously on the floor of the volcano. He looked back at his companions and grinned at their slack-jawed expressions, surprised that Osric’s men had unbarred the door rather than leave them to starve in the cage. Thom scrambled to his feet as Aron began issuing orders.

“Search the area, quickly and silently, and find me a weapon! Those traitors may still be close.” The men rushed to get up and out of the cell. Although it may have been built to contain a dragon, the chamber felt very small to the men locked within.

Thom was fairly certain that Osric had found the cache of dwarven swords. Still, there was a chance the weapons sat undiscovered at the end of a hidden tunnel, so he headed straight for the tunnel’s entrance in the kitchen. As he passed through the open archway, he slowed and listened carefully, wary of encountering any guard Osric may have left behind while he was still unarmed. Thom could hear movement behind him, but he was only interested in finding a weapon, so he moved deeper into the kitchen. There was a dead lamb on the butcher block in the center of the room, the butchering abandoned when Osric and his friends had attacked. A faint scent of decay was beginning to permeate the air. Thom crept along the wall, staying close to the stone and keeping his eyes open. He reached the far corner without seeing any movement and began to relax. It seemed that Osric had not left anyone to guard the volcano after all.

Thom stopped, ripping a dingy tapestry off of the wall to reveal a wide passageway. He ran swiftly down the stone corridor and slid to a stop in an open, empty chamber. Thom spun around and growled in rage, storming back to the kitchen. He intended to scour every inch of the volcano for a weapon, and if he couldn’t find one, he would go outside and find a sharp stick. One way or another, he was determined to hunt down Osric personally and see his head on a spike.

Thom left the kitchen, all thought of stealth and suspicion gone from his head, and ran up the stairs leading to his sleeping chambers. As he raced along the ledge that clung to the side of the hollow volcano, he kicked a loose stone as hard as he could. It narrowly missed the head of an irua guard coming out of one of the chambers, ricocheted off the wall, and then clattered to the floor near the guard tower in the center of the open cavern. The guard quickly ducked inside the first room to avoid being pushed off the ledge as Thom careened past him. Thom ran into the last chamber in the row, his own quarters, and he stopped suddenly.

There was a slight odor of lavender lingering in his quarters, and it brought to mind the beautiful woman traveling with Osric. She must have been in his room while he was locked in the cage with the other guards, probably sitting on his sleeping pallet, and the thought of the intrusion sent rage coursing through Thom’s body. After Thom crushed the key to the dragon cages, Osric had punched him, resulting in his swollen, painful jaw. He had regained consciousness to the sound of that woman’s voice echoing above him, and her words still rang in his ears,
“You are the most powerful wizard who ever lived.”
Thom had no idea what made her think that Osric was so powerful, but he intended to prove her wrong. He glared around the chamber and kicked the small table near the bed. Wood cracked and splintered, and the noise calmed Thom down a bit. He would have preferred that the sound had been made by the skulls of the men who locked them in that cell, but the wood would have to suffice until he could track them down.

Thom flipped his sleeping pallet up and the rage returned. Osric’s men had taken his dragonbone wand, and they had even found the spare sword he kept under his pallet. The knife that had been secured to the bottom of the table was nowhere to be seen, either. Thom left the room and ran down the stairs to find Aron.

He found the gruff looking man who had been his supervisor and mentor for nearly six years in a foul mood. One of the guards was cleaning the angry wound from an eagle claw on Aron’s arm. The injury had festered overnight, and sweat broke out on Aron’s brow as the guard wiped pus and blood from the gash. Even if they could find a weapon, Thom wasn’t sure Aron could wield one.

“Wipe that worried, girlish look off your face. I can swing steel just as well with my other arm. Did you find me a weapon?” Thom glared at Aron but bit back a retort out of respect.

“No, Osric and his cursed, misfit friends cleaned this place out. All of my gear is gone, and they found the dwarven swords, too.” Thom tore a strip of cloth from the hem of his tunic and handed it to the guard to wrap up Aron’s arm. “I will go out and gather some wood for a fire, and then at least we can make some spears.”

“Blast!” Aron punched the irua guard in the throat and loosened the bandage, cradling his arm to his chest. “That’s too tight, you idiot.” He pointed with his good arm at the other guards standing around. “You four, go with him. I want a hot meal and some sharp sticks by mid’day!”

Thom walked out of the volcano, fuming with anger at Osric. Not only had he freed the dragons, isolating everyone on Archana from rapid travel, but he had taken all of Thom’s gear and weapons. Just as the thought about the dragons being free crossed his mind, a great sweeping shadow passed over him, and Thom dove behind the massive tree near the entrance. The other four guards who had been just behind him scurried back into the volcano. Thom crouched behind the tree, expecting a blast of fire to envelop him at any moment, and scanned the sky. He watched the massive, golden-brown beast soar up and away from him, and he recognized the dragon that had stood guard at the entrance for as long as he had been stationed at the volcano.

“Stargon. Blast that wicked creature! He will toy with me like a cat with a mouse.” Thom cursed the dragon under his breath and began breaking the lowest limbs from the tree and hurling them toward the volcano’s entrance. He kept his eyes on the open sky as much as he could while he worked. When he had a sufficient pile of wood between himself and the opening to the volcano, he called out to the other guards. “Gather it quickly and get back inside. The beast is gone for the moment, and I have no intention of being eaten today.” He grabbed several more long, straight limbs and rushed for the entrance, leaping the pile of firewood and nearly colliding with another guard as he emerged tentatively, gazing up at the sky. Thom kicked the careless man for blocking his escape as he dodged past him and dashed back inside the volcano.

The men were able to gather the wood without incident, but the close encounter had them all considering the possibility that they were trapped at the volcano with few supplies and an unknown number of vicious dragons nearby waiting to make meals out of them. The air was thick with tension and unspoken fear as they built a fire in the pit just inside the entrance and began hardening and sharpening long limbs into makeshift spears in the flames. Thom addressed Aron with venom in his tone.

“That nasty beast you kept at the door hasn’t left, and I am sure he has many friends nearby. How do you intend to get us out of here?”

Aron stared at Thom with contempt, but his voice was steady with authority as he responded, “We will stick together and travel light. We have no supplies to weigh us down. Once we make it to the trees, we will have sufficient cover, food and firewood. I am sure they will find easier prey than a group of well-trained guards to fill their bellies,” Aron replied. “We will have to move quickly, and I expect you all to keep up. A man alone will be easy to pick off, but together we can outsmart the stupid creatures. We should leave quickly so we can find water and shelter before nightfall.”

“Where exactly do you plan to go? We are in the middle of nowhere with no means of transportation or supplies. It will take us days to walk to the nearest hint of civilization!”

“First, we will make our way to the ruins. There is a man near there that may help us, assuming we can find him,” Aron replied, glaring at Thom’s insubordination.

Thom grumbled quietly as he went back to work on a spear, “That sounds promising.”

Aron looked up the shaft of the volcano at the small patch of blue sky visible from where he stood as the men completed the last of the crude weapons. “We will need a distraction to make it to the forest,” he stated, glancing around at the guards. His gaze rested on the irua he had assaulted for hurting him while tending to his wounded arm. “Landin, you are the fastest and most nimble man here. You will scale the shaft and pull the dragons’ attention to you from the top of the volcano. I suggest you make a lot of noise, and then run for your life and try to make it to the trees before they get to you.”

The small, pale-skinned guard’s face fell, but he merely nodded his head and started up the steps to the ledge that would provide him with the most likely route up the volcano shaft. His steps were heavy and methodical, as though he were accepting that he climbed to his death. Aron watched him find his first hand holds in the volcanic rock and then looked away calmly, ordering the other guards toward the entrance to prepare for a sprint to the tree line. The men stood anxiously inside the entrance, each feeling thankful that Aron had not ordered them to be the decoy, but also mourning the inevitable loss of their comrade. The chance that Landin would make it to safety was slim. It was much more likely that he would not even be able to buy them enough time to make it to the cover of the trees before he was snatched up by a dragon. Soon they heard Landin’s voice echo down the shaft and ring through the volcano.

“Aron, I loathe you! You worthless piece of dragon dung! How dare you send me up here to be eaten by these fire breathing behemoths! If I make it through this, I swear I will hunt you down and… Aaaghhh!” His voice faded as he took off running down the side of the volcano.

Aron grinned widely, “Good man, Landin. All right, gentlemen, let’s not allow his tirade to be in vain. Move!” Aron ran outside, gripping his spear and scanning the sky, while the other guards followed nervously. They ran swiftly while watching for a dragon attack, and they heard a short, distant cry from a dragon followed by a clipped scream just as they reached the trees. Thom glanced back and saw Stargon soar upward from behind the volcano with Landin’s limp body grasped in his claws. He cringed at the sight but rushed deeper into the trees before he could be spotted by another dragon.