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Authors: Robert Evert

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

Blood in Snow (2 page)

BOOK: Blood in Snow
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He stroked Becky’s head as they sat, his back against a huge stone slab, studying the yellow and orange and red leaves gliding in the warm autumn breeze. There were so many of them; it was like he was sitting in a slow-moving, colorful rain.

His gaze shifted to the forests covering the rolling hills to the north and east, their dwindling canopies a collage of bright color. He smiled, his heart lightening somewhat.

By the gods, this is what makes the Highlands so damned special. Nowhere on the continent could you see beauty like this.

More leaves drifted by.

They rustled on the ground, sounding like ham sizzling on a hot skillet.

He inhaled the dry, earthy scents of autumn, the resolve to rebuild Rood hardening within him.

He knew King Lionel would try to retake the Highlands, not because it provided him with anything he wanted, but because Lionel was a warrior, and warriors always needed to fight over something. There was also the issue of his honor; he wouldn’t simply let part of his kingdom slip away.

Edmund did some quick calculations in his head. The earliest the King could hear about their little revolt would be in two months; people who fled Rood after the goblin attack wouldn’t reach Eryn Mas any quicker. After hearing what they had to say, Lionel would naturally want to send somebody to investigate, maybe a small force of riders. But by then, winter would be well underway and they’d have to wait until spring. Riders would come north in the warmer weather, see what had happened, then ride back to Eryn Mas to make their report, which would take another two months. The King would need to marshal his forces, and by then, winter would have come again; Lionel certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to send his army north in the winter. It’d be at least the spring after next before anything happened, and considering how quickly things were being built in Rood, Edmund thought he and his friends could give King Lionel a real fight—if they prepared properly. They had a year, maybe two, and by that time, they’d have Rood ready and a couple hundred men armed with unbreakable swords and armor.

From the hilltop, Edmund considered his home a mile or so to the west.

The lands surrounding Rood’s walls were littered with jagged stumps and deep gashes where trees had been dragged away. It looked like a hideous wasteland of wooden tombstones, but cutting back the woods was important for Rood’s survival. They also needed the timber to build housing for everyone they expected to come north for the free land.

He inspected the town.

Even from a distance, Edmund could see people hurrying to and fro like stirred-up ants, stripping the felled trees of bark and branches, making lumber suitable for building. He could hear the ringing of hammers, the sharp thud of axes, and the rhythmic back-and-forth of saws. As he watched, beams for the third barracks’ roof were raised into place, while just outside the town walls, a group of men practiced their archery skills.

Then he noticed the house built on his family’s former land: Molly and Norb’s house.

It stood by itself—a silent, dark lump amid the activity.

Told by Pond how Edmund gave his house to Molly before the goblins destroyed Rood, the townspeople had voted to give the land back to Edmund. But after seeing its brightly painted nursery, he couldn’t go back inside. In fact, he could barely look at the lopsided building without fighting to inhale. He hoped it would just fall down or get swept away by a terrific wind.

He wrenched his gaze away in disgust and guilt and inadvertently glimpsed the mountains forming the bluish-gray horizon to the northeast. Goblins would be coming soon. They’d never leave him in peace, not while he knew the secret to making Iliandor’s steel; however, an army with unbreakable swords and armor would take care of them, too. Or at least, so Edmund hoped. He first needed men who could fight.

An image of the empty crib in Molly’s nursery popped into his mind. He tried to shake it out.

You have to do something, you know that, right? You can’t ignore the fact they have Molly’s daughter. You have to rescue her!

How? I can’t just storm a tower filled with goblins by myself!

You did for Molly.

Molly …

Putting his head into his hands, Edmund fought the urge to cry.

He looked up, the bright autumn sun warming his otherwise cold face. Fluffy white clouds drifted through a perfectly blue sky. A bent line of geese flew south, honking as they went.

Why can’t I feel happy on a day like this?

You’ll never find peace until all of this is over. You have to rescue—

“I have to save the town!” he shouted to the hills.

Surprised, Becky leapt up and searched for the cause of the outburst; upon seeing none, she licked Edmund’s face.

Choking back laughs and sobs, he hugged her tightly.

“Horic called you a werehound,” he said, scratching the wolf-like dog roughly behind the ears. “I’m not sure what that means, but I’m glad you’re on my side, girl.”

She licked him again and then went rigid.

Instinctively, Edmund’s hand fell to the hilt of his black-bladed short sword.

Becky sprang up onto a large block of stone that once served as the tower’s foundation and stared southward. She barked—not one of her angry barks with the growls that scared even Edmund, but the one she used to tell him somebody he knew was approaching.

Forcing the worry from his face, Edmund stood.

Hendrick, Captain of the Guards, labored up the incline, chainmail shining in the afternoon sun.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he called, climbing closer and closer.

“Don’t be,” Edmund called back, trying to sound stronger and more like a leader than he felt. “I was just surveying these stones,” he lied. “Perhaps we could use them in some capacity or another.”

Hendrick reached the hill’s summit and climbed over the initial ring of rubble.

“Getting the larger blocks into town could be a challenge,” he said, breathing hard. “We might want to keep them here, in case we ever decide to rebuild the tower. This is a good place for it. Very defensible should anybody try to assail the town.”

Surveying the view, Hendrick nodded in approval. “It’s very pretty up here.”

“Wait until it snows. We’ll make some sleds and slide down the slopes.” Edmund’s grin became more genuine as he remembered his childhood. “You’ve never had such fun.”

“I’ll bet.” Hendrick shielded his eyes and scanned the colorful horizon. “Perhaps we should post somebody up here. They can certainly see a long way.”

“Maybe. But they can see farther from the hills to the south, where the Highlands rise above the lowlands. Anybody who comes up here will follow the River Bygwen. If we watch the river and its fords, we should be well aware of people before they arrive. That’s where we should build a tower, if we had the manpower to build one. Around here, an entire army could be hiding in the forests or behind the hills, and we’d never know it.”

“Very true.” After one more glance around, Hendrick nodded again in satisfaction. “Speaking of which, that party we saw approaching a couple of days ago has reached town.”

“Anybody interesting?”

The guard grimaced. “Actually, there kind of is.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I’m worried there might be an issue with one of them. Not an issue; not with him, exactly. But I have some concerns about what could happen if he stays in town, if you get me. We may want to begin thinking about who we let join us. At least for now.”

Edmund walked down the hill, indicating for Hendrick to follow him. “What’s the issue?”

“Well,” Hendrick hemmed. “I think it would be best if you judged for yourself. I’m just a stupid soldier.”

Edmund stopped midstride.

“You’re nothing of the sort,” he said sternly. “Thanks to you and your men, we’re alive. If you ever have any thoughts or insights, I want you to tell me. That’s an order.”

Hendrick grinned. “I appreciate that, sir. Thanks. Thank you very much. And for the record, you’re the best commander I’ve ever served under. Still, I think it best if I give you my thoughts once you’ve formed your own. The newcomers are in the tavern, demanding to see Lord Norbert.”

“Lord Norbert,” Edmund mumbled, his foot sliding on the steep slope. “All right. Let’s go see if we can get our new guests acclimated. Hopefully some of the more useful ones will stay.”

Edmund walked with the Captain of the Guards through the wasteland of broken stumps and woodchips, saying very little. When they opened the door to The Buxom Barmaid, a swell of voices greeted him.

“Here he is!” One of the guards pointed at Edmund as he and Becky entered the common room. “If you won’t believe me, he’ll tell you.”

The voices quieted.

“Do you need me?” Hendrick asked Edmund.

Edmund shook his head. “No. I suspect you should get some rest. You have the night watch, I believe.”

But Hendrick waved this off as if it were nothing to worry about. “I can stay up for three days straight without so much as blinking.”

“Well, let’s not let it come to that. You deserve some rest and relaxation.”

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

Edmund surveyed the staring crowd of newcomers—sixteen adults and five children ranging from a year or so to maybe twelve. He smiled at the two women in the group to soothe their obvious anxiety. Other than Abby, they’d be the only women for hundreds of miles around.

Abby . . .

He tried not to think about her.

“You Lord Norbert?” one of the younger men asked, pulling from his pocket a crumpled piece of worn parchment. On it read the words: “The Lord and Lady of the Highlands …”

“There’s nothing here!” Another man pushed his way through the group. “Not a goddamned thing!”

Becky stepped in front of the newcomer and lifted her lip, revealing a long white canine.

The man backed away.

“We was told there was a town or something up here!” a third said from a safer distance. “But there ain’t nothing!”

Everybody began talking at once. Everybody but a well-dressed man sitting by the door, expensive boots propped up on the table, as if he were enjoying a show. He smoked an ivory pipe.

Edmund immediately thought he looked like nobility. Then he wondered what would happen if nobility wanted to resettle in the area. Would he let them stay with the understanding that the status of nobility meant nothing in the Highlands? Or would he send them back south?

Deal with him later.

A baby held by an apparently exhausted woman joined in the commotion, its wails slicing through Edmund’s aching head.

Climbing onto a bench, he raised his hands. “Okay! Okay! Let me explain! Please, let me explain!”

The din continued unabated.

“Please!” he repeated.

“Be quiet!” a guard yelled.

Everybody but the baby settled down.

“First of all,” Edmund began, “w-welcome to Rood!”

“There ain’t no—!”

“Secondly!” Edmund shouted over the man’s protests and the infant’s cries. “Let’s get some food in you all. I’m sure the journey was a difficult one.” He waved at the cook, who peered in from the kitchen. “Gabe! Get everybody something hot, okay? Impress them with your culinary skills!”

“Cul-a-what?” said somebody in the crowd.

“I’ll bring something sweet for the little ones,” the fat cook called back, wiping his hands on a stained apron.

“You’re a godsend.” Edmund rubbed his temples, wishing the baby would stop screaming.

“How much is this hot meal going to cost?” asked a stout man at the back of the group. “I don’t got much money, and it looks like none of you here do either, judging by this place.”

“The meal is on us,” Edmund said, his voice for some reason taking on their accent. “And it ain’t charity.” This statement kindled even more disbelief. “Just settle down and listen to me. Please! Please s-s-settle … settle down. Settle down!”

Again they quieted. Gabe returned from the kitchen and gave each of the children some sweet bread. To Edmund’s immense relief, the infant stopped screeching.

Rubbing his temples again, he studied their faces. Most of the newcomers seemed to be unskilled laborers. A couple of middle-aged men looked like farmers, their skin brown and leathery from countless days in the sun. By contrast, the man sending streams of grey smoke into the air by the door, was probably a wealthy merchant who’d never gotten his hands dirty.

“As you can see,” Edmund said, hoping to sound more upbeat than he felt. He gestured to the crooked windows flanking the room and to the barren plots beyond them. “As you can see, our town, Rood, has had better days. It burned down a couple of years ago.”

He decided not to divulge any details. Though nothing would damage his credibility more than lying, mentioning the twenty thousand goblins infesting the northern mountains would likely send most of the men scurrying back southward—and Rood needed as many strong hands as it could get.

“We want to rebuild,” Edmund continued. “And we are willing to treat anybody who helps us like nobility. Everybody. If you can work, we want you. And we’re willing to give you what you’ve always dreamed of.”

“Does that mean—?” But the woman was immediately hushed by a man who might have been her husband.

“It means”—Edmund anticipated the forthcoming reaction—“that we’ll g-g-give, we’ll give you land in exchange for hard work.”

There was a rumble of disbelief.

“Hold on! Hold on! What do you mean, ‘hard work’?” one of the laborers repeated skeptically. “How long are we going to be indebted to you? I don’t want to be no indentured servant. Not again.”

“And who are you, anyway? You don’t look like no lord to me.”

Edmund adjusted his black eye patch and self-consciously straightened his clothes.

The tumult got louder.

“Okay!” he called out. “I promise I’ll answer all of your questions! All of them! Just let me take them one at a time.”

He turned to the man who was concerned they’d be indebted. “Are you a farmer?”

“What?” The tanned man looked a bit stunned and then embarrassed. “Y-yes,” he said. “Well, that is, no, not yet. I was a farmhand back by Clearfalls, but I mean to be a farmer. That’s why I came here. Somebody said you was giving away free land. And then we met this fella …” He pointed to the man who’d produced Norbert’s notice. “And he said you’re only looking for tradesmen. So which is it?”

BOOK: Blood in Snow
4.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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