Chapter 565: Making Preparations (Part One)
When the trial began again, Ollie wasted no time in putting a new plan into motion. The cypress tree was a powerful guardian and Ashlynn had showed Ollie several ways to harness it’s power but when he compared the offensive might of the witchcraft he’d learned to the power demonstrated by the massed group of Inquisitors, he found it sadly lacking.
"It isn’t that I’m weak," Ollie realized. "It’s that my strengths are more suited for defense and counterattacks than offensive actions. More than that, I need time to prepare. Trees don’t grow overnight, and I can’t prepare my army overnight either. I need time..."
He also needed to set aside his desire for revenge. In his haste to strike back against the Inquisitors who had tormented him in his previous attempts to pass the trial, he’d skipped over many of the things he should have done in a bid to cut the head off the serpent, ending things once and for all.
It had been foolish, and he had abandoned his just cause in favor of a violent, aggressive attack that lured men into a deadly trap but failed to do anything to the people responsible for harming the village. Worse, it had done nothing to stop the Inquisition from continuing their assault and eventually reaping the lives of everyone he was supposed to be protecting.
This time, It would be different. This time, Ollie took out everything he had learned from every previous iteration of the trial. He sent men to each of the neighboring villages, asking that they send as many fighting men as they could, while sending craftsmen to create shades for their crops and instructions to begin harvests of crops that couldn’t endure the heat, even if the yield would be lower.
"Old Nan," Ollie said, presenting himself at the home of one of the people he most admired in the village. Old Nan had lost everything, including one of her two sons, when Owain burned her village to the ground. Despite that terrible loss and bone-crushing grief, she’d taken the few possessions they were able to salvage and pulled herself back up out of the depths of despair to become one of the pillars of the rapidly growing village of refugees.
"Sir Ollie," the old woman said, her whiskers twitching in surprise. "You have so much that you are doing in this crisis. What brings you to this old woman’s door now?"
"I, I need you to teach me how to carve wood," Ollie admitted awkwardly. "I don’t have strong claws or teeth, but I know how to use a knife delicately," he said, thinking of the precise knifework that had been required for some of the dishes served at the high table during feasts at Lothian Manor or the Summer Villa. "It’s just, I’ve never learned to carve wood before."
"Of course I can teach you, Sir Ollie," Old Nan said, frowning at the youth as she struggled to understand his request. "But why now? Do you need to carve something to resolve this crisis?"
"I do," Ollie said. "Our enemy is very strong, and they have powerful sorcerers from the Inquisition. If our soldiers are going to survive a clash with them, then they need greater protection than armor can provide," he explained.
"Generations of Cypress Witches have carved the wood of cypress knees into powerful totems and charms that can protect the bearer from harm," Ollie added as he saw comprehension dawning on Old Nan’s face. "I need to make as many of these totems as possible in the next ten days before we attack Lord Owain’s army to break this curse," he said, pointing at the sun burning in the night sky.