Rise of the Citadel (The Search for the Brights Book 2) (14 page)

“Go ahead, pick
it up and test it out.”

Bowie, with a
sigh, picked up the heavy branch. He reached into his satchel and pulled out
one of his spare bowstrings. He had nowhere to put the string, so put one end
of the branch on the ground and pushed his foot into the middle. The branch
bent, as it should, with the bark cracking and snapping. When he let his
pressure off the branch, the bark fell away revealing a smooth-surfaced bow. He
picked it up off the ground to admire its surface and saw the veins in the wood
were ornate and worked into shapes, much like the stitching on his jacket. The
surface was so brilliant that he, too, stopped breathing.

Auburn stepped
around the bark littering the ground to run her hand over the surface. Ria
smiled and walked away, wiping her hands against each other as if she had been
working in the dirt.

Bowie turned to
Auburn, “I need to get to my tools.”

She nodded and
they took off in the direction of Bowie’s tent. Once inside, Bowie pulled out
his custom made tools. His grandfather had been a great fletcher and Bowie
continued the family business. Each tool was developed for a specific task and
he knew how to use every one to produce the best arrows. Even though he had
only attempted to build one bow, his grandfather had worked on many when Bowie
was a kid. He had made the arrows and his grandfather had made the bows.

It was time to
see if he could remember everything he had watched his grandfather do. From his
bag, he pulled out a leather tool kit that kept his tools separated.

He turned to
Auburn, “Go get me a bit of supplies for the arrows and bring Tyler here as
well.”

Auburn left
quickly as Bowie concentrated on the tools. He pulled out a triangular file and
started working on one end of the bow, slowly and smoothly. When Auburn
returned with Tyler, she offered a little instruction on the angle of the notch
he was already making. A short time later, he set aside his bow and hoped it
was as good as it looked.

He moved over to
his table and cleared the papers away. Bowie pulled his table to the center of
the tent allowing his students to sit on all sides.

“I’ve never seen
tools like these before,” Auburn said, running her hands over their surfaces.

“These were my
grandfather's tools. He was the original Master Crescent. He taught me
everything I know about making arrows. These tools were his creation and they
have provided well for my family. We will need to find a blacksmith to see if
we can get some more made.”

He pulled a tool
out with a small, curved hook on the end and went to work on one of the arrow
shafts. It peeled away a thin layer of the wood and left a perfect groove down
the side at the end.

“This is where
the feathers go; put a tiny bit of glue here and the feathers spine inside the
groove. It makes the surface smooth by the feather and protects the glue from
coming undone. Just a tiny amount of glue so less string can be used to hold
the feathers in place. Too much string will cause the arrow to catch too much
air in flight and slow it down.”

He rotated the
feather to make two more grooves.

Auburn watched intently
as he dabbed glue along the spine of the feathers and tucked them gently into
place. With practiced hands, he pulled string from a spool and ran a spiral
pattern though the feather’s bristles up the shaft. He spun the arrow in his
hand, checking to make sure it was straight.

Next, he pulled
a second tool from his kit and filed away a squared section from the end of the
arrow. He placed the arrow head inside the notch he made and wrapped it with
string to hold it in place.

He pulled out
another tool and ran it along the squared edge of the wood overlapping the
arrowhead’s sides. The tool angled and smoothed the wood connecting to the
arrow head. Again, he wrapped string around the arrowhead to secure it in
place. He used a smaller file to put a notch in the back and then used a rag to
rub the areas with string with a light coat of tar. He did the same to the
bristles of the feathers. The two watched as he carefully placed it on two
small blocks allowing the arrow to dry.

“One Crescent
Arrow.”

“These take a
long time to make. How are we supposed to make enough for an entire army?”
Tyler said, scratching his head in wonder.

“We don’t,”
Bowie said in response. “We keep these for ourselves. Each archer will learn
the craft and they will make their own arrows. It will give them an
appreciation for each arrow they use and waste. They’ll take their time to make
sure every shot finds its mark.”

Auburn and Tyler
nodded in agreement.

“You two go
ahead and get started,” Bowie instructed. “I have other matters to see to. Be
careful with my tools.”

Bowie made his
way around the camp with his new bow, ready to test it with the arrows the
fletchers were making. He didn’t get the chance before John found him.

“Sergeant, I
have the numbers for you,” John said as he approached. “The townspeople are
about to drop off more supplies. I took the liberty of trading the hides we
collect for more goods. They said they would make some leather goods for when
the king passes through.”

Bowie noded,
“Anything that will help the town survive after the king passes through. I
don’t need to know the finer details, but tell me about the horses and carts.”

John nodded and
flipped through his papers. “We have twenty-five horses and twenty-two carts,
not including Ria’s. It should be enough to transport all of our goods and a
large amount of the troops. As we travel, we will be able to clear out some of
the carts as we give out arrows and deplete our supplies to make them.”

“I will need one
cart filled with finished product to be delivered to the king. John, you will
have my horse hooked up to the cart so I can make the delivery. We will start
moving again the morning after next.” Bowie started to walk towards the ring of
fletchers, “We need to have the cart as full of arrows as it will allow.”

“Sergeant,
shouldn’t I be the one remaining behind to deliver the arrows?”

“John, you did
very well getting all the men here ahead of time. I need you to take the place
that you should have before I showed up. Take a break and enjoy the ride from
the front. Besides, I have a message to hand deliver to the king from a
wizard.”

**********

  Brandon paced
in the wizard’s library, trying to learn as much as he could about ageing fire
wizards. He was running out of options. He had read the best way to handle an
aging wizard would be to have a wizard of each type present to help control
their symptoms. His real problem was that only three wizards were left behind
to protect the castle.

Two of them were
aging at the same time.

He had a handful
of wielders that were supposed to help, and they were already hard at work. It
was taxing, trying to keep them energized throughout the day. He tried to
remember the moments when Kara had been cooperative as he tried to do his best
to save her life. She was the one in danger now. Twilix had become encased in
an icy casket just after Kara collapsed. They tried to get her closer to Twilix
so her heat would keep the ice at bay. Now they tried to melt it away by using
regular fire and torches.

  Kara was
becoming so powerful that she was siphoning heat from the torches surrounding
Twilix. She was using the flames that kept Twilix alive to make a heat that was
close to consuming her. The water bearers tried to subdue Kara.The balance was
deadly. The two wizards worked against each other, one needing heat but getting
it taken. One consuming herself in flame and not able to stop.

              Newly
awakened fire wizards were, by all accounts, unruly, but when they aged during
their first year they were downright unpredictable. No matter what Brandon did
to convince the king that Kara had discovered to control her passion, it would all
be a waste now.She would remain in the dungeon for years, possibly until a new
king took the throne. Her newly aged power would double or triple in magnitude.
Soon, she would rival Twilix as a young, powerful wizard. He hoped the two
would continue to be friends when, and if, they both came through this trial
together.

  A knock at the
door was followed by his name.

“Come in,” he
whispered, deep in thought. He bolstered his voice and shouted, “Come in!”

A servant
cracked the door and stepped inside.

“Well?” Brandon
said standing up.

  “Wizard, Sir.
Twilix is starting to wake up. She was taken to a guest room in the east wing
of the castle. You gave the order to notify you of any changes.”

Brandon smiled.
He would have to be quick if he wanted Kara to survive.

  “I will be
down momentarily.”

  As soon as the
catch on the door clicked Brandon pushed the hidden button underneath his desk.
A false bottom opened and a set of imbued metal beads on a string fell out into
his hand. He slipped the string on his foot and picked up a map from his desk.
The map gave its user access to secret passageways through the castle and he
had already plotted the quickest route to Twilix’s room.

His sudden
appearance at Twilix’s door gave the guards a start as he passed them. He shut
the door behind him and caught a glimpse of a woman disappearing behind a
wooden panel made for changing.

“It is polite to
knock before entering into a woman's chamber,” The voice said from behind the
panel.

  “Excuse me,
Twilix. I was merely anxious to see how you were feeling,” He said.

“I will be quite
well once I have a set of decent clothes and something to eat. This dress got a
bit torn while I was growing.”

  Brandon
cleared his throat, “I’ll see that one is brought up at once.”

  “It’s already
being seen to, Brandon. Tell me, how long was I asleep?”

  “You were only
aging for a few days and I’m glad it didn’t take any longer. Kara was unable to
maintain her watch over you.”

  Twilix stuck
her face around the edge of the panel.

“You didn’t put
her in the dungeon, did you? I told her I wouldn’t make her go back there as
long as she was in control.”

  Brandon shook
his head, “She was unable to control herself, but no, I did not force her to go
back to the dungeons. I don’t think all of us would have survived if we had
tried. Kara began aging yesterday. We kept you as close to her as we could, but
you still froze into an ice cocoon. Our men are struggling to keep her subdued
right now. I was unsure how long they would last. It’s a blessing that your
aging didn’t take too long.”

  Twilix pulled
linen underclothes off of the divider, “Are you ready to aid me in containing
her power, Brandon? I will need all the help I can get, Kara was already
stronger than Mary.”
            Brandon remembered the days when Mary aged. The castle grounds
sweltered and it was a struggle to get into the hallway of the dungeons without
being cooked alive.

“I will do what
needs to be done. How can I help you right now?”

  Twilix reached
a hand around the panel and held it palm-up towards Brandon.

“First, I will
need a little energy for what needs to be done.”

Brandon took
hold of the smooth, soft hand and pushed a cloud of energy into it. Lately he
felt renewing others was his only purpose.

“I will also
need you to accompany me to the training grounds,” she said.

  A knock at the
door interrupted the conversation, “Wizard Twilix, I have the robe you
requested.”

  “Enter,” She
commanded.

A servant
entered the room with a blue robe and draped it over the panel and bowed to
Brandon as he departed. It wasn’t long until an aged version of Twilix emerged
from behind the panel. She made her way to the mirror and moved her finger
along the curve of her new face. It was the same, but older. She now looked the
same age as her mind; in her early twenties. An age that would follow her for
some time, possibly the majority of her life.

Brandon didn’t
know what to say. Twilix had come to the castle when she first awoke as a
wizard. She was guided by his brother in the ways of water magic and she had
mastered combatting each element quickly. Twilix’s power would rival any aged
water wizard. Brandon had been there to help her learn and grow that power. He
had a hard time seeing this woman as the same little girl that had grown up in
the castle. He was sure she was just as awestruck by the week’s transformation
as he was. That is, until he came out of his stupor and saw her staring back at
him.

“Are we going to
go check on Kara?” Twilix asked.

  He cleared his
throat, “Of course. Right this way.”

  She laughed,
“I know the way, Brandon.”

She moved past
him and walked down the hallway. On occasion, she tripped as she walked. She
knew the hallways as well as he did, but her legs were longer than the last
time she had used them. The stairs must have been especially difficult to
navigate because she slowed down considerably. Brandon lent her a hand when she
was about to fall. He watched her closely as they made their way down to the
training grounds.

  The three
wielders keeping Kara’s flames in checked looked exhausted, with sweat on their
brows and breathing as if they had run the castle’s grounds. Twilix waved a
hand to the men, dismissing them, but they didn’t return the wave. To them, she
was to blame for them having to be here. Kara should have started her ageing
still confined to a cell.

He knew that
Twilix could handle the new fire wizard and he wanted the men here to see how
powerful she was. They were there to protect the people of Deuterium, and they
hated Twilix for her part in Kara putting everyone in danger. She seemed to pay
no attention to the brutes and their ungraceful use of magic.