“Ula said that Serpentines were excellent farmers.” Ronan looked at her. “Any suggestions?”
“Something with a dry root,” she murmured. “And doesn’t grow very tall. Shrugbush or Dalroot may work here. Both can be served raw, cooked, or be made into stew.”
Ronan smiled approvingly. “I’ll have Ula conjure me up a few seeds if she can. You can show them where to plant and tell them what needs to be done.”
“Go back inside and rest. I need time to think,” he told her and after a moment she left his side. He walked out into the village, surveying the dusty land that surrounded it. If there were some sort of water source available it would make Johran life much easier.
You could manipulate the landscape. Ahearn stepped toward Ronan. There is an abundance of water is Merisgale. You could create a river that stretched from Merisgale through the moors and ended here into a lake.
“Perhaps a dam at the edge of Johran that would prevent flooding in the valleys.” Ronan shook his head. “But I do not know if I am a strong enough wizard to do that.”
Robusk is. Ahearn answered. When you deliver the sword to him you could request his help. Ronan nodded. It was a good plan.
“Thank you, Ahearn. You are a remarkable creature.” Ronan scratched the horse between the ears. Ahearn snorted and then moved away again.
Thirteen
Ronan watched Fiona show the younger women how to plant the seeds. She was smiling, obviously happy with the work she was assigned. Ula sat with older women relaying the ingredients of her healing broth. They all had their heads bent low, as if she was sharing some great secret meant only for a few chosen. Keegan and Bryan had gone out with some of the men to hunt the dusty hills of Johran. Ronan doubted they would have any luck. And Arien was showing some of the men how to construct better, more durable weapons. Ronan beamed proudly as he watched him pass on information that Ronan had taught him.
“I have nothing to contribute.” Mikel the Hort spoke from behind Ronan, his voice low and filled with shame. “I don’t fight. I don’t cook. I don’t hunt. The only thing of weapons I know is how to steal them and my first instinct in a fight is to hide.”
Ronan offered a slight smile as he looked down at the changeling man. “Stealth can be an admirable trait. And knowing how to hide can be an advantage when someone means to attack.” Ronan waited for Mikel to lift his gaze. “Do not sell yourself short, Mikel the Hort. You have survived this long.”
“I am a weakling and a coward.” He lifted an arm to show the lack of muscle.
“Your character makes up for your lack of physical strength. I know very few who would be so brave as to lift a dagger off of a King’s Guard. That does take some courage and confidence in your skill,” Ronan argued. “If I thought you were useless I would not have allowed you to travel with me.”
“What good am I to your mission?” Mikel asked after a moment.
Ronan knelt so that he was eye level with the changeling. “You would not fight. You would hide until danger was gone. You are the one who would not be killed, the one who could warn Robusk and Merisgale that the dark forces were raging against them.” Ronan leaned closer. “I would hope you would manage to swipe the sword before it fell into the wrong hands. You are a thief. I imagine you could do it quickly and quietly when no one was looking.”
“I could!” Mikel nodded excitedly. “I could do it and be long gone before any of them could realize it was gone. I’m an excellent thief.”
“There, you see.” Ronan smiled as he rose back to his feet. “A hero can be anyone who knows how to use what they have for the good of man.”
“You think I can teach these people something?” Mikel’s voice was no longer deflated. It was filled with hope and eagerness.
“I think between your tactics and Arien’s weapons, they would better off against their enemies.” Ronan nodded. Mikel tilted his head for a moment then scampered off to join Arien.
“And odd bunch you travel with, Ronan,” Yarro called from the door of his hut. Ronan turned and nodded in greeting to the leader.
“Indeed they are.” He stepped toward Yarro, crossing his arms.
“You offer them positive leadership. A wise man does not rule over those he commands. He speaks to them on a level they understand without talking down to them. You lifted the spirits of that little changeling.”
“I do what I must for them. Each have played a pretty important role on this long journey. But I admit I will be thankful when it is over.”
Yarro nodded. “It is a big responsibility.”
“One that I will be grateful to be rid of,” Ronan admitted. “I suppose I should tell you that I mean to ask the great wizard Robusk to help me dig a river from Merisgale to Johran. It would provide our people with a water source that will insure foliage and eventually wild life.”
“Food,” Yarro murmured and Ronan nodded. “But it will not be easy. The Dragols will not be so easy to convince.”
“Dragols?” Ronan raised a brow.
“You don’t know? They rule the moors between Merisgale and Johran.” Yarro stared at Ronan when he shook his head. “The moors are the home of the dragons.”
“Dragons?” Ronan repeated. “I thought there were only few left in existence.”
“A little more than a few but it is true there are not as many as there used to be. They reside on the moors. It is why we must cloak our village. Like us, they hunt what they can. We hunt in numbers of three or more. We are less likely to become prey if there are many.”
Ronan ran a hand over his face and scratched the hair on his chin. “Dragons,” he said again. “Are they hostile?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes not. They are unpredictable and moody. One never knows the nature of a dragon.” Yarro sighed. “We lived in peace with the Dragols for many years. But these are desperate times. They face extinction. They do what they must, as do we, to survive.”
“A river would probably benefit them as well,” Ronan thought aloud. “In the same ways it benefits the Johran. Perhaps an agreement of peace can be made with the promise to help them survive.”
“If it can be done then it would ease our worries,” Yarrow said. “You are a unique individual, Ronan. The centaur said you would be speaking on his behalf to the great wizard too. Do you try to help everyone you meet?”
“No more than anyone else, I imagine.” Ronan shrugged.
“You are an asset to the Johran people. Until now we’ve never had anyone of our kind who did great deeds. You are our adventurer and hope for our future.”
Ronan did not respond. The words embarrassed him and made him fearful in the same moment. He was just a blacksmith. He didn’t want to be more than that to anyone.
“Why did you agree so quickly to allow me to join the tribe? You could not know I wasn’t lying.” Ronan said after a moment.
“I could if I were looking for the truth. It is not easy to spot someone who means to do harm. But it is much easier to spot a man who does not. Your soul is clean. It was even before you ate of the flesh.” Yarro clapped him on the shoulder. “You proved me right when you had your sorceress feed our people and again when you commanded those you traveled with to offer wisdom for us to survive.”
Ronan sighed heavily. “Your words are kind.”
“My words are honest,” he argued.
Ronan spoke again after a few moments of comfortable silence stretched between them. “I want to leave at dawn.”
“So soon? Can you not stay longer?” Yarro’s disappointment was apparent.
“The sword must be taken to Merisgale quickly. Too many work against me to linger in one place for very long.” Ronan turned to Yarro. “I give you my word that I will return. If Robusk refuses to help me then I shall find a way to dig the river myself.”