The Bloodbaths | Page 3

the
greatest numbers thirty yards below our feet. Your interruption has
been most opportune," he said with a mischievous smile. "Do you see
where you should dig?"
The councilman's eyes lit up with gratification. Crixus thought of
Stamm and Gavri, staking out the ground where the bastianae flowers
had shown them the true location of the wellspring by dint of 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