Betrayal in the Highlands (32 page)

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Authors: Robert Evert

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #FICTION/Fantasy/Epic

BOOK: Betrayal in the Highlands
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More people converged upon the burning stables; several tried to cut the thrashing horses free.

The second bounty hunter took up the cry. “Magic user! Magic user! The old man! He’s a magic user!”

Edith seized Horic’s arm. “We have to get out of here. We can’t kill them all; there’s too many of them.”

Horic backed away from the growing mob. “You can’t hide,” he said to Edmund. “I’ll find you no matter where you go. And when I do, you’ll tell me everything I want to know.”

With that, he, Edith, and Lester fled into the darkness.

PART FOUR

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Get to the west gate,” Edmund told Pond. “Tell Molly she needs to bring the horses back. Have her pretend she caught them racing away.”

“Molly?” Pond repeated as men rushed around them, hauling buckets of water to the burning stables.

“I mean Abby! Go! Hurry!”

“We’re not leaving?”

“I don’t know. But you can’t leave her standing there. I don’t want Horic to find her.”

“Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes, yes! Hurry! Go get her!”

Pond raced off.

Toby ran to Edmund. “Did I do okay? I brought as many people as I could. I figured you needed help, judging by the way you were looking at me and all. Was that old man really a magic user? An honest-to-goodness magic user?” He seemed more excited than frightened.

“Not all magic users are like him,” Edmund replied, jumping out of people’s way. Half the town was fighting the blaze. The other half was scampering here and there, waving weapons and shouting about magic users.

“Look, Toby. You shouldn’t have come here. You need to go back to Eryn Mas.”

“Why? I want to be a knight. You promised, remember?”

Somebody loosed an arrow into the flaming horse. It screamed and crumpled to the ground, still ablaze. The archer shot it again.

“Things are complicated,” Edmund explained. “Things are d-dangerous up here. You need to go back.”

“I can’t!”

A horse thundered by, cut free from the roaring remains of the makeshift stable.

“I turned fifteen,” Toby shouted over the turmoil. “I finished my apprenticeship. My mother can’t support me anymore. I need a job, and there are already enough blacksmiths in Eryn Mas!”

Blacksmith

Maybe he could be helpful after all.

Edmund led Toby out in front of the tavern, farther away from the inferno.

“Can you make weapons?” he asked.

A group of men rushed up, Hendrick and Bain among them. All had weapons drawn and ready.

“You saw it,” Bain said to Edmund, out of breath. “You were there! Tell them! Tell them about the old man. Tell them he was a magic user!”

“Is that true, mister?” another man asked. “Did you see it? Is he a magic user? An actual magic user?”

Deny it! Tell them Horic threw a lit oil flask or something.

No! Wait
.
It might be useful to have the entire town up in arms. The goblins still might attack.

“I saw it,” Edmund confirmed. “A ball of fire shot from his hand.”

The men began talking all at once; more than a few appeared terrified.

“The dwarf and the woman who were with him are, too,” Edmund added.

“Three magic users?” one of the men said in disbelief. “Mister, if you’re pulling our legs—”

“Does that look like he’s pulling your legs?” Hendrick flung a hand at the crackling flames leaping up into the night sky. “I didn’t see the other two do anything, but I tell you that old man shot fire from his fingers. We have witnesses!”

“We’d better send for some witch hunters,” somebody said.

Edmund’s stomach tightened.

“There ain’t no witch hunters this far north!” another replied, much to Edmund’s relief. “By the time they arrive, the witches will be long gone!”

“What can they do against witches who can shoot balls of fire anyway?”

There was a flurry of agreement.

“We’d better get the Lord,” someone in the crowd shouted.

There was a smattering of groans and disgusted laughter.

“He’s under the table if he’s anywhere.”

“He’s as good as a block of wood.”

Puzzled, Toby turned to Edmund. “But you’re the—”

Edmund hushed him. “I’ll explain later.”

“What’re we going to do?” somebody asked.

“Whatever it is, it’d better be quick! I ain’t gonna stick around while those witches burn us all alive!”

Many in the group nodded as they regarded the town’s gates.

You have to do something or they’ll all flee into the woods. Kravel will butcher them one by one

“Gentlemen!” Edmund shouted over the crowd of arguing men. “Listen! Listen to me. Gentlemen!”

Thirty townsfolk stared at him.

“If you all go running into the countryside, the magic users will kill you one by one. It’s best to stay together. There’s safety in numbers!”

“He’s right!” somebody hollered. “I ain’t going out there in the middle of the night!”

“So what are we going to do? We can’t just sit here and wait for them to attack us again!”

“Gentlemen!” Edmund shouted again.

He waved his arms above his head.

They quieted down somewhat.

“This is what I want you to do.” He pointed to a couple of startled men who seemed relatively sober. “You two, go muster everybody you can, anybody who can swing a weapon or shoot a bow. Bring them to the tavern. Tell them we are under attack.”

There was some grumbling. One person asked who Edmund thought he was, but Hendrick told him to do what he was told or he’d not live to see the morning. Unnerved, the two men ran off toward the clusters of tents on the other side of town.

“You!” Edmund yelled to a boy about Toby’s age. “Take five others and go man the east gate. Make sure it’s closed. And don’t leave it unguarded for any reason! Do you understand?” He jabbed a finger at someone else. “You do the same with the west gate.”

Groups of men dashed off in different directions.

“You, you, and you. Gather men and build small campfires around the village, about three hundred feet apart. If any goblins climb over the walls, I want us to see them.”

“Goblins?” several people cried.

Focus! Don’t blow this.

Edmund shook his head. “I mean those damned magic users! It’s going to be a long night. We’re going to need coffee and lots of it. Nobody’s sleeping until dawn!”

“I’ll brew some pots!” said an older man with one arm.

“Good. Now the rest of you, form bands of five or six. Make sure you have weapons and that at least one person in each group can shoot a bow. Spread out along the perimeter. Stay within sight of the groups to your left and to your right. Shout or blow a horn only if you are under attack or if you see something climbing over the walls. Do you all understand?”

Shouts of “Yes!” rose up as everyone sped this way and that.

Edmund turned to Toby. “Do you know how to smith weapons?”

“Yeah. Well, that is, I’m not a weaponsmith by training. But I—”

“You can heat up metal, make it malleable, right?”

“Of course. Like I said, I was my uncle’s apprentice for seven years. Why?”

A huge man in a long, flowing cape shoved through the townsfolk who were rushing buckets of water to the stable. On his breastplate was a gold tower surrounded by red rays of the setting sun—the symbol of Eryn Mas. Two older boys, presumably squires, followed close behind.

“What’s all this?” the knight bellowed at Edmund. “Who the hell are you, giving orders?”

“The town is under attack,” Edmund replied.

“By who?”

“By magic users,” several people shouted together.

“Bullocks!” the knight said. “Put this blasted fire out before it spreads to the tavern and stop talking rubbish! Where’s Lord Norbert?”

“He’s drunk,” Edmund said. “I’m taking over.”

“The hell you are.” The knight laid a hand on his sword hilt.

Pond, Abby, and Becky appeared at the edge of the swelling mob and wove their way toward Edmund.

“Pond!” Edmund shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear him. “Go into the tavern. People will be gathering there. Tell them about the magic users! About what you saw with Horic! Get them organized and in groups of five or six. Try to get an archer in each group.”

“No, you won’t!” the knight said. “Stop right this second!”

“We’re not leaving?” Abby asked Edmund over the commotion.

“No, not now. There’s safety in numbers.”

“Okay. So what do you want me to do? I’m not being left out.”

“I’ll need you to gather weapons; run around to all the tents and buildings and grab any knife, ax, bow—anything you can find. Bring them to the tavern, understand?”

“Yes.”

“Becky, go with Abby. If anybody touches her, rip their throats out.”

Becky barked.

Abby protested. “I don’t need to be protected.”

“That’s it!” shouted the knight. He drew his sword. The two squires followed suit. “You’re under arrest!”

Behind them, swords rang as they were jerked from their scabbards.

“Take a step toward him and you’ll die,” Pond said, rapier in hand.

Bain, Hendrick, and a handful of other men stood with him, weapons drawn.

“I’m a knight!” he roared. “I’m a royal emissary of the king!”

Hendrick pressed his sword tip to one squire’s chest and nodded over to Edmund. “He knows what he’s doing; he saw what happened. Now help us or get out of our way!”

“But the king—”

“To hell with the king!” somebody shouted.

The crowd cheered.

“That’s … that’s … that’s treason!” the knight sputtered.

“No, it’s not,” Edmund said. “Not here, at any rate. Tell your asinine king that the Highlands are no longer a part of his kingdom.”

The veins in the knight’s temple bulged. “Treason! I’ll have you hang for that! I’ll have you all hang!”

More people drew their weapons and surrounded the knight and his squires.

“Either help us or get out of the town,” Edmund told the knight. “The choice is yours.”

The two glowered at one other. Around them stood forty men, swords in hand.

Great sheets of hissing flames leapt into the smoky air behind the tavern. People darted this way and that, shouting.

“Saladin,” the knight said over his shoulder, “saddle our horses. Biden, gather our equipment.” He sheathed his sword and added to Edmund, “This isn’t over.”

“You and King Lionel know where to find me,” Edmund replied.

Bristling, the knight turned and pushed through the crowd, which closed ranks around Edmund.

“What now?” Hendrick asked.

“Do what I told you,” Edmund said. “Mobilize the town. Make sure there are experienced fighters in each group, and make sure nothing climbs over those walls in the darkness.”

“So you think the magic users will come back then?” Bain asked.

Or the goblins

“Yes. Yes, they’ll be back. Sooner, rather than later. Go on. Get as many men organized as possible. Secure the perimeter of the town, especially where they can climb trees over the walls.”

“All right!” Hendrick shouted. “You heard what he said! Get into groups of five or six. And man those walls! Watch the trees!”

The crowd dispersed, leaving Pond, Abby, Becky, and Toby standing with Edmund.

“Did you mean what you said?” Pond asked him. “About Rood not being in Lionel’s kingdom anymore?”

“No. I just want them to send reinforcements. We need a garrison of knights here, not just one. Otherwise Rood will never be safe.”

Toby appeared worried. “They’re going to hang you when they come back.”

Edmund rubbed his throbbing arm. “Believe me, that’s the least of my problems.”

The townsfolk jeered as the knight and his squires galloped out the east gate.

“Pond,” Edmund said, weary. “Go address the men gathering in the tavern. Abby, get as many weapons as you can find and bring them to Pond. Everybody needs to be armed but don’t mention the goblins in the woods. They won’t believe you.”

“Goblins?” Toby said, startled.

“Becky, protect Abby.”

Becky barked again.

“Toby, you’re with me. I’ll explain everything I can.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

“So how many of them were there?” Toby asked excitedly as he followed Edmund through the ruins of Rood.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Twenty or thirty, I think. No more than that, hopefully.”

“Thirty goblins? Will they attack the town?”

“Probably.” Edmund stopped at what used to be Borst the Blacksmith’s shop. Only part of one stone wall still stood, but under a pile of burnt boards and debris, the forge appeared to be intact.

“And you aren’t really Lord of the Highlands?”

“No. I’m sorry for lying to you, Toby. I shouldn’t have. But I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He started clearing burnt timbers from the forge. “Can you make a sword?”

“Anybody can make a sword. It takes a weaponsmith to make one well. I know the basics, but the closest I’ve come to making anything like that is a few ax heads and plow blades.” Toby watched Edmund struggle to lift a board. “Do you need help?”

“No,” Edmund grunted, throwing off a scorched beam.

“Why do you want a sword? What’s wrong with what you have? Doesn’t look like you could swing a sword with that arm of yours anyway. Not to mention you’re dead on your feet. Do you want to lie down?”

Edmund glanced around the village. Small red fires were springing up around its perimeter and the town was abuzz with activity, but nobody was close enough to overhear them.

“Look, Toby …”

The more you tell him, the greater danger he’ll be in.

Edmund rethought what he wanted to say.

I have to do something. It’s our only hope.

Get three horses and ride out of here!

No more running! It’s time to fight.

“Toby, I need you to make me a sword. A special sword.”

Puzzled, Toby opened his mouth.

“Don’t ask me why,” Edmund interrupted. “I can’t explain. I will later. But not now.”

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