His Cure For Magic (Book 2) by M.R. Forbes Page A
Authors: M.R. Forbes
Tags: Coming of Age, Fantasy, Magic, dark fantasy, Wizards, Sword and Sorcery, young adult fantasy, epic fantasy, Magic and Wizards
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Varrow was also in the room, and Eryn opened it to find the wand with the white stone, and her father's books. She put her hand to the journal. "Amman, bless me with the strength to right all wrongs, and make all of my family proud." She picked up the journal and kissed it, and then undressed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Silas
"I want to thank all of you for volunteering," Silas said to the merchants gathered around their wagons.
They were out of Varrow City and in to the Washfall Wood, a mile or more from the city walls. Davin had downplayed the impressiveness of the passage, which extended from a nondescript mound of manure behind his stables, travelled deep enough under the city to pass below even the ancient subterranean passages, and moved in a straight line below the walls and out into the trees. It had taken thousands of gold coins, years of digging, a creative dumping of earth around various points of the existing underground, and the death of hundreds to bring it to fruition. It was Davin's life's work, all in the name of his dream of one day overthrowing the Overlord of Varrow and holding the city as a stronghold against the Empire.
Now he's risking it all to save the woman he loves. I would do the same for you, Alyssa.
Silas' eyes passed over each of the merchants. Most wore the same stained and unkept clothes that he did. Most had little in the world besides what they wore on their backs or carried in their carts. They travelled from village to city, bartering for meats and grains and selling them to him at fixed prices, feeding the armies to earn barely enough coin to feed their own family. They had little enough to lose, and Davin had promised them that their wives and children would be well cared for regardless of the outcome.
They were the people of his Empire. They were the forgotten, who moved about without notice from soldiers or the Overlords. Their anonymity made them the perfect accomplices.
"Thank you , Silas," one of the merchants replied. "Thank you for standing up to him . My son was brought to Washfall after he questioned the price of the grain we had brought in and threatened to sell it somewhere else. I don't even know if he's still alive."
"If he is, he'll be free by morning," Silas said. "We'll see to that." He looked over at Eryn, who was sitting on the bench of the wagon in the center of the train.
"My girl," another said. "They took her and accused her of prostitution. My girl ain't no prostitute, my Lord. All she did was say no to a soldier. All she did was respect her pa's wishes to stay pure 'til she was wed." He had tears in his eyes and he used a dirty sleeve to wipe them away.
The merchants all spoke out in turn, expressing their anger and sadness at the treatment they had endured beneath his boot. Silas listened to all of them, offering individual words of comfort and thanks, and lifting their spirits the way only a leader of men could.
"You think this plan will work?" Sharl asked. His wife had been taken over a dozen years earlier for stealing a loaf of bread. He was one of the oldest of the bunch, and while he was certain his wife couldn't have survived the labor of the mines, he clung to the hope that he could earn revenge on her memory.
"I'm sure it will. Take heart in that. They'll be telling stories of this for years to come."
It would work because his soldiers would be prepared for an attack. What Silas was bringing was something they wouldn't expect. He climbed into the wagon with Eryn. "We'll stop right before we enter the clearing, but only for a moment." He waved at the others, and they all gained their own wagons and eased their horses into a slow trot.
###
They could hear the sound of the mines as they moved closer to it, a murmur of voices rising into the crisp night air, backed by the muffled clang and thump of picks and hammers. Stars shined down from the sky above them, but Silas couldn't see them from his position underneath the center wagon.
"Are
CHAPTER TWELVE
Silas
"I want to thank all of you for volunteering," Silas said to the merchants gathered around their wagons.
They were out of Varrow City and in to the Washfall Wood, a mile or more from the city walls. Davin had downplayed the impressiveness of the passage, which extended from a nondescript mound of manure behind his stables, travelled deep enough under the city to pass below even the ancient subterranean passages, and moved in a straight line below the walls and out into the trees. It had taken thousands of gold coins, years of digging, a creative dumping of earth around various points of the existing underground, and the death of hundreds to bring it to fruition. It was Davin's life's work, all in the name of his dream of one day overthrowing the Overlord of Varrow and holding the city as a stronghold against the Empire.
Now he's risking it all to save the woman he loves. I would do the same for you, Alyssa.
Silas' eyes passed over each of the merchants. Most wore the same stained and unkept clothes that he did. Most had little in the world besides what they wore on their backs or carried in their carts. They travelled from village to city, bartering for meats and grains and selling them to him at fixed prices, feeding the armies to earn barely enough coin to feed their own family. They had little enough to lose, and Davin had promised them that their wives and children would be well cared for regardless of the outcome.
They were the people of his Empire. They were the forgotten, who moved about without notice from soldiers or the Overlords. Their anonymity made them the perfect accomplices.
"Thank you , Silas," one of the merchants replied. "Thank you for standing up to him . My son was brought to Washfall after he questioned the price of the grain we had brought in and threatened to sell it somewhere else. I don't even know if he's still alive."
"If he is, he'll be free by morning," Silas said. "We'll see to that." He looked over at Eryn, who was sitting on the bench of the wagon in the center of the train.
"My girl," another said. "They took her and accused her of prostitution. My girl ain't no prostitute, my Lord. All she did was say no to a soldier. All she did was respect her pa's wishes to stay pure 'til she was wed." He had tears in his eyes and he used a dirty sleeve to wipe them away.
The merchants all spoke out in turn, expressing their anger and sadness at the treatment they had endured beneath his boot. Silas listened to all of them, offering individual words of comfort and thanks, and lifting their spirits the way only a leader of men could.
"You think this plan will work?" Sharl asked. His wife had been taken over a dozen years earlier for stealing a loaf of bread. He was one of the oldest of the bunch, and while he was certain his wife couldn't have survived the labor of the mines, he clung to the hope that he could earn revenge on her memory.
"I'm sure it will. Take heart in that. They'll be telling stories of this for years to come."
It would work because his soldiers would be prepared for an attack. What Silas was bringing was something they wouldn't expect. He climbed into the wagon with Eryn. "We'll stop right before we enter the clearing, but only for a moment." He waved at the others, and they all gained their own wagons and eased their horses into a slow trot.
###
They could hear the sound of the mines as they moved closer to it, a murmur of voices rising into the crisp night air, backed by the muffled clang and thump of picks and hammers. Stars shined down from the sky above them, but Silas couldn't see them from his position underneath the center wagon.
"Are
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