Jeff Inlo - Chain of Bargains

"The only thing that bothers me is the refugees keep coming. I've got guards patrolling the fields to the east of Burbon's wall. They're directing newcomers to Pinesway. They haven't stopped coming. You know that. You issued the order."

"I know," Sy offered with a clear burden shaping his expression. It seemed he would have to hold to his worries. He wanted to keep Burbon safe and to keep his promise to its people, but the nagging issue of the valleys just wouldn't go away.

The sergeant continued with complete honesty, the same basic truth he gave his captain when they spoke previously of the problem.

"Don't get me wrong. It's a good plan. You did more than just buy time. You created an opportunity to rebuild Pinesway and moved the refugees out of immediate harm, but it's not the final solution. There's space in Pinesway-a great deal of space-but if they don't stop leaving the valleys, even Pinesway will reach its limit. We might be right back where we started."

It was the truth. The stream of refugees hadn't stopped. It hadn't even let up. Sy couldn't argue that point, but he also knew he wasn't alone. Enin was aware of the problem as well, and the wizard had sent two of the most capable individuals Sy had ever known to deal with the issue. The captain of the guard would never grab at false hope, but he had faith in Ryson and Holli.

"We're going to be alright," Sy said with a certainty that was born from that faith. "We just have to give it some more time."

#

Jure sat in a wooden chair by Heteera's bed. He watched her carefully. He suffered from near painful boredom, but he would not leave her side. He could not talk to her; she would not respond. He wouldn't allow anyone else in the room; it was simply too dangerous. He couldn't even practice the most minor spell; her unpredictable condition made any such attempt foolish at best. He simply sat, or paced, and then sat again, all the while hoping for signs that the sorceress might break from her self-induced trance.

He closely monitored the magic that he could sense around Heteera. Only a small trickle of energy flowed into her, but deep within, he knew she held an ocean of power. Despite his deft control over magic, the sheer enormity of the energy was frightening. So much had been sealed within her that she was more like an enchanted entity than a living being.

He thought of Ingar's Sphere, the talisman that once held nearly every pulse of magic in Uton. He couldn't imagine how such a vessel could have consumed so much power, but perhaps that is why it was such a threat to the land. He heard that Ryson's sword had split the sphere open in a great battle with the ghost of Ingar, but he knew that it was Ryson's soul that triumphed over Ingar, not the delver's enchanted weapon.

Jure did not yet have Enin's ability to transverse dimensional planes, but his own faith was strengthened by what the magic had taught him. His awareness had grown with his use of the energy. Life was so much more than what surrounded him on a physical plane. He knew the journey started well before birth and continued on after death. They were not alone, left to their own devices. He understood the true force of benevolence, and that the magic was meant to return to Uton. He held to that faith, and he looked for his own purpose in serving the land… and in helping Heteera.

He wished he could break through to her, but it wasn't simply a matter of reaching out and waking her from a deep sleep. She didn't sleep. She just stared up at the ceiling, blinking every now and then to remind the elder wizard that she was still alive, reminding him that she deliberately withdrew from life and hid from her self-doubts.

She had such natural power-the inherent ability to absorb and cast out magic of each hue. Her aptitude in this regard far surpassed Jure's, but the capacity for power was a gift to her, probably at birth. She never had to work to increase it, to strengthen it.

What she was not given was control. The energy was always there, but it defied her will. The more she tried to shape it, the more it raged against her. It was almost as if she was blessed with a beautiful singing voice but was made tone deaf.

Jure was not as blessed… or as cursed. He developed his natural sense for magic and worked diligently to extend his talents. He earned the ability to cast a pure circle of power, and eventually, he gained the capability to cast equally with each hue. His casting in white magic was developed through time and practice.

For whatever reason, they had been brought together. Jure had utilized Heteera's energy to defeat an extremely powerful wizard. Although he had to cast the barrier which added to Heteera's current state, he believed that he had done what he needed to do, what he was meant to do.

He could not, however, accept that Heteera would pay for that course of action, and if she did, she would not do so alone. His decision to attend to her went far beyond Enin's wishes. He made it based on his own convictions. He would accept total responsibility for his decisions, even if the consequences were ultimately altered by Heteera herself. He would not walk away from the sorceress, and he would not simply allow her to remain in a suspended state.

Just like Sy Fenden, Jure knew he was not alone, but his view of assistance and allies went beyond the mortals that walked the land of Uton, even beyond the enormously powerful Enin. Not every step had purpose, but certain aspects of life had to be faced with a devotion to faith, regardless of opposing hopes and desires. Just as he had been brought together with Heteera and Holli to defeat an arrogant and dangerous wizard, he would be guided to his next purpose. He would have another moment of fate, a moment to do what was right. With all his heart, he believed providence would not only lead him there, but direct him in exactly what to do… and so, he waited.

"Why did you bring another scent bag?" Ryson asked, as he almost gagged at the overpowering stench.

The delver staggered backwards out of the tunnel that led to Sterling and back into open air. They had initially been met by dwarves that guarded the entrance, but they were allowed to pass, even encouraged. It was only when they took several steps into the tunnel that they were confronted by another half dozen dwarves in battle gear rushing up the passage. One held a putrid smelling sack and waved it about vigorously upon reaching the opening.

"We were alerted to the presence of a goblin." Ulet Bulharp explained, the same dwarf battle commander who met Ryson and Holli once before near the hillside entrance to Sterling. She quickly took command of the situation and demanded information from the dwarf guards at the entrance.

"Only these three?"

"That's all," one replied quickly.

Ulet was not satisfied.

"Recall all outer patrols. Search the surrounding hills only, but leave four guards at the entrance. Secure the pass. No one goes through without being checked and no one else gets into Sterling until I say so."

"We were not followed," Holli assured the dwarf commander.

Ulet ignored the elf and instead focused on the delver.

"Do you smell any other goblins in the area?"

"All I can smell is what's in that bag," Ryson revealed.

Ulet appeared satisfied by the response, but Holli remained confused and realized the dwarf had not answered the delver's question adequately. She repeated it.

"Why would you bring a goblin scent bag to confront another goblin?"

Though she obviously did not appreciate having her deeds questioned, the dwarf battle commander offered an explanation.

"We do not want goblins sniffing around our tunnels. We thought it would be best to confuse it with a scent from its own kind."

"The goblin is our prisoner," Holli noted. "We brought it here with a warning."