The Bloodbaths | Page 3

their attraction to substratum moisture.?
"The Water Artesan's Guild has more tried and true methods for finding water than shaking a stick at the ground." He felt his face flush at the shaman's frown. "We'll be happy to note your recommendation, ser. In fact, you're welcome to meet me here at dawn to see whether water vapor arises from the ground. But I can't in good faith disregard scientific methods for superstition. Not when a noble's hard-won austrices are at stake."
The shaman chuckled. "Of course not. Your skills are unquestionable." With a grand gesture, he offered the rod to Crixus. "See for yourself. You are a spirit magnet."
Crixus hesitated, sensing he was losing control. He returned his hammer to its belt loop and took the rod with an awkward smile. It was light and brittle, no different than any stick found in the woods.?
"In both hands," the shaman urged. "Then concentrate on the essence of water. You, of all people, should be closely attuned to it."
The water is hundreds of yards away, he thought. There is nothing here but some damp rock at best. Even if water spirits existed and frolicked underground, they would be doing so where Gavri and Stamm planted stakes.
Holding the rod in both hands, Crixus envisioned the location he had picked out for digging. The rod jerked, ever so slightly, inching downwards. Crixus' eyes went wide.
"Do you feel it?" The shaman leered at him. "The natural power beneath your feet?"
The rod curved down, even as he tried to hold his hands still.?
"Relax your hands. Let the rod use you as a conduit." The shaman's entourage smirked at him; the rivalry between water engineers and the dowsers had turned violent at times.?
There was no question that the rod moved of its own accord, despite his efforts to relax his hands. The engineer in him balked at the phenomenon and sought to explain it: the forked branch might channel any pressure downwards, or the wood was heavier at the intersection of the two branches. The shaman's explanation simply could not be correct.
"He feels the draw of the water," the shaman said to the gathered crowd. Stada clapped his hands. "I predict you will be bathing in your own spring very soon, Councilman." He took the rod away from Crixus with a flourish. Crixus put his hands to his belt, blushing with embarrassment.
Sighing, he knelt and scratched out an X with the haft of his hammer. "It is so marked. I look forward to meeting the spirits in person." He could not resist catching Stada's eye. "Meanwhile, I will have my team check the hill for other possible branches of this primary source, which may be more accessible. At no additional fee, and with the blessing of the revered one, of course."
?"You were right, Artesi," the shaman said, finishing him off. "This has been a fruitful consultation."
* * *
Crixus' posture tipped his assistants off as he emerged from the trees. Gavri took a few steps forward.?
Stamm merely lowered his flask. "What went wrong?" The journeyman spoke softly, fearing the worst.
Crixus shook his head. "He's a canny one. I opened my mouth and he put words in it."?
Stamm spit. "Bastard. How many sites are going to be scarred by those charlatans and their bad guesses? I say we dig right here, priests be damned."
"We'll run our tests and choose the spot to drive the well, but we'll have to do the same at the shaman's chosen digging point."
Stamm and Gavri scowled. "Why?" she asked. "Did he find water?"
"I'm not sure." Crixus shook his head and held his hands as if he were holding the dowsing rod. "He has a glib tongue, talking about the water spirits gathering below us. Stada is convinced. But then he handed me the rod. Damned if the thing didn't point down to where he said it would. It was eerie." He shrugged. "It moved in my hands."
"Huh." Stamm looked back towards the trees, beyond which the shaman had made his declaration. "So you think there's something to it?"
"No, but something moved that branch. I doubt it was his water spirits, but still..." He recalled the sensation of the branch moving by itself. "I'll work this out with the Guild officials. They will want to fine Stada when that site turns up dry, but it might be better to absorb the expense. Restia is a new market." He brushed the bastianae flowers with his foot. The thirsty little blossoms grew dense in a thirty yard span around them. Weeks before, he and his assistants had scattered the seeds across the hill. The flowers grew quickly when their roots found water, even deep in the ground. Along with some knowledge of geology, they were the Guild's own fragrant dowsing rod.?
The Water Artesans Guild of Rond had little competition,