The Annals of Wynnewood Complete Series

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The Annals of Wynnewood Complete Series Page 39

by Chautona Havig


  Without a word, Jakys ordered Grifon to lead Philip and Nerienda to Dove and then marched back into the fray, swinging his sword with a ferocity that startled Philip. Grifon, seeing his chance drew his own sword and rammed the hilt onto Odo’s head, knocking the man unconscious. He then raced to Nerienda’s side, told her where to find Dove, and turned to fight against the rebels.

  Her feet were light and swift. Philip had a hard time keeping up with the woman as she wove through the tunnels, swiftly and through much darkness. A few times she backtracked, making him uneasy. Did she not know where she was going? The sounds of voices behind them explained it all. She was trying to mislead any pursuers, yet drawing nearer to where Grifon had left Dove. Philip expected to find the girl bound and gagged in an iron barred room without a key to release her.

  Eventually they scurried down a short, dark corridor. “Call for her, but whisper. Hurry,” Nerienda demanded.

  “Dove? Are you here?” They listened, but there was no answer. He tried again. “Listen, Dove. We have to get out of here. Come on. Grifon said you were in here.”

  Nothing. Nerienda tried. “Girl, your death will not be on my head. Get out here and let’s go!”

  Silence was their only answer. Philip touched Nerienda’s arm. “Are you sure this is the right tunnel?”

  “Definitely. Why isn’t she answering? Grifon didn’t say they’d hurt or gagged her, did he?”

  “I don’t know!” Then Philip remembered Dove’s description of the last time she’d hidden in the tunnels. “Along the floor, see if there are any nooks where she could be hiding. That’s what she did last time.”

  Before he could bend down, Dove’s voice, reached them from the other end of the tunnel. “I wasn’t sure it was you. You were so far away, but only people I trust know how I hid last time.”

  Nerienda, impatient to get the girl out of the mountain, grabbed her arm and led them deeper into the mountain. Philip, surprised at the move, questioned her. “Why are we going further in? Why aren’t you taking us out?”

  “You’re going out the other side. You’ll have to find the road that leads into Wynnewood and take it west to find the town. Just follow the moon or walk away from the sun.”

  “Why this way?”

  “Jakys doesn’t think they’ll expect us to go this way. He sent others to go everywhere that is logical, and sent us in the least logical direction. Hopefully it’ll work.” The woman’s voice broke.

  Philip hesitated, but felt driven to ask. “What’s wrong?”

  “The first man down— that was my brother.”

  “Down? What is she talking about, Philip?”

  “They have a battle going on in here, Dove! These people have armor, swords, spears— everything! Jakys gave a great speech, but a bunch of that guy…” He thought for a moment.

  “Maulore’s men.”

  “Yes. That’s him. The one you danced with. He has a mini-army of men out to kill you and Jakys has his own mini-army and there’s an actual battle going on in some room back there.”

  “Your brother was hurt?” Dove’s voice sounded defeated. “I am so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. He was with Maulore’s men. He would have killed you.” Nerienda sounded angry.

  A sound behind them made them all flatten themselves against the wall, but when nothing came, they continued on their way. Dove was still bothered. “I am still sorry. Your brother is afraid. He’s trying to protect all of you. I am no danger to anyone, but he can’t know that. I didn’t capture the unicorn. It was a good test.”

  “No it wasn’t, Dove.” Philip’s confidence grew the farther they got from the center of the mountain. “You aren’t yet a fæmne. If you were twelve, perhaps, but even Letty failed, and she is twelve.”

  “Oh, poor Letty. She sat there in that cold and surrounded by mists for nothing.” Though Dove was sorry for the girl, she couldn’t help feeling relieved to learn that Letty had not succeeded where she’d failed. “Perhaps the legends are not accurate.”

  “Accurate or not,” Philip said adamantly, “I will not be searching for unicorns again. If Lord Morgan wants one, he can send his knights to seek them.”

  As Philip spoke, Dove realized that she would never see Jakys, Grifon, or Waleron again. Once she left, it would never be safe for her to return. “Will you give Jakys and the others a message for me?”

  “What is that?” Nerienda wasn’t happy about her job, but she trusted Jakys explicitly.

  “Tell him goodbye, and that I’m sorry, and let Grifon know how much I appreciate him protecting me tonight.”

  “I’ll do that.” The woman was silent for several more minutes before she said, “I think you are an intelligent girl. You know what must be done. I was trying to find a way to make you understand that you cannot return, but I see you realize that.”

  Dove thrust her hand into her cloak and pulled out a pouch. “I brought this for Reynilda. Bertha says it probably won’t cure the disease, but that it will reduce the sores and make them less painful. Make a poultice.”

  “You told the midwife about us?” The fury in Nerienda’s voice should have frightened her, but Dove sighed.

  “No. I tricked Letty into asking about it. There was a man with leprosy a few months ago. Bertha had the men run him out of town to protect us. I just made Letty curious and she asked.”

  Nerienda stopped. “Are you sure you are just a child? You’re very shrewd for such a little girl. Could you have Mæte blood in you?”

  “It’s possible, I suppose, but not likely. I’m only a little smaller than most children my age.”

  They’d reached the end of the tunnel. Both Philip and Dove felt the night air rushing into greet them. Their guide seated herself on the ground, wrapped her cloak around her, and said, “It’s time to go. I will stay here until you’ve had time to make it back to Wynnewood. As we discussed, you cannot return. Stay away from the Sceadu. It is not safe for either of you.” She hesitated and then fumbled for Dove’s little hand. “Thank you for trying to help. If it had saved Reynilda…”

  Philip and Dove crept from the cave and wandered down the winding path through the trees that climbed that side of the mountain. She had a dozen questions for him, but each instinctively knew they shouldn’t speak until they reached the road. The mists hadn’t reached this side of the cliffs, and daybreak had arrived long before they reached the road to Wynnewood.

  With the sun at their backs, Dove and Philip hurried along the road that led to the village. Before Dove could ask her first question, Philip sighed in relief. “I was sure we were both going to die in there. No one would have ever known what happened to us.”

  “Letty would. When we didn’t come back, she would have told.”

  As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Philip knew that Dove was right. Letty would have told. “I wonder if people would have believed her and gone into the mountain, or if they would have thought she was crazy.”

  After about a mile, Dove stumbled to a tree beside the road, collapsed, curled up in a tight ball, and closed her eyes. “What are you doing?” Philip didn’t know how to respond to such strange behavior.

  “I can’t walk anymore. I’m too tired.”

  This, Philip understood. They’d been awake all day and all night. Fear had sapped their energy long before the long trek through the mountain, trying to escape before Maulore’s men caught up to them. “You can’t stop here, Dove. It isn’t safe. If someone came along and realized who you are, they might hurt you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well, I care, so get up.”

  Dove whimpered. “I can’t. Just go away.”

  But Philip didn’t leave. Instead, he urged, bullied, and finally dragged her to the opposite side of the tree. Now that she was hidden from the road, he moved to a nearby tree, sank to the earth beneath it, and rested his head on his knee. As the early morning gave way to noon and then afternoon, they slept.

  Chapter 26

  D
espondent

  Nearly two weeks later, Philip walked up the road to the castle, alone. He’d tried to convince Dove to come with him, but since that night in the Sceadu, she’d been different— distant. She helped him practice shooting, fix arrows, and study his lessons, but she didn’t talk. Her incessant questions had finally ceased. He missed them. He missed telling her a story from the Bible and hearing her quirky observations. He missed the Dove who seemed to have retreated so far into her cloak that she disappeared.

  He’d returned to the Fletcher cottage, where baby Adam kept them all awake at night. Tom worked harder than ever at making his arrows. He had such a large quantity of them growing in his storage hut that he’d decided to take them to Cockermouth as soon as the weather would hold. The family needed the income that would come from such a large market. The last time Tom went, Philip had been almost eleven, and he’d gone to help, but with the baby, he was expected to stay behind and help keep Una in water, wood, and care for the animals.

  Martin met him at the gate. “Haven’t seen you around here in a while, lad. As fast as ye’re growing, I’ll not recognize you soon.”

  “Tom needs extra help these days— the baby…”

  “Aaah. I remember when my modor had a baby. I felt like a slave to her sometimes.”

  He hated those kinds of conversations. If he agreed, he sounded ungrateful and disrespectful of Tom and Una. If he disagreed, he sounded impertinent and contradictory. It was impossible to find a respectful response. “It could be worse. The baby is such a blessing to them. They’ve waited so long.”

  “You off to see his lordship or Peter?”

  “Peter. He is going to test my accuracy today.” The dread in Philip’s voice would have been comical to anyone but Martin. The guard knew Peter’s reputation for expecting perfection. The afternoon would be long and tedious.

  “Good luck.”

  With a wave, Philip walked through the outer passageway, past the castle, and out to the practice range where the castle archers were unstringing their bows and retrieving their arrows. His shoulder adjusted instinctively, knowing that he’d be bringing many of them home for repairs. He could almost feel the weight of the quivers on his back.

  “Philip!”

  “Am I early?” He’d tried to give Peter time to rest after the daily drills, but it didn’t seem like he’d succeeded.

  “No, Will, Arthur, and a few of the others couldn’t hit their targets for anything today. I kept us going until everyone succeeded.” He glanced past Philip. “I expected to see your shadow today. Where is she?”

  “Shadow?” Philip frowned.

  “With her gray cloak and the way she stays in the background, Dove almost looks like a shadow.”

  As he strung his bow, Philip thought about what Peter said. It was true. “Oh. I can see that. She didn’t want to come today.”

  “In a snit? I keep waiting for her to start acting like a girl.”

  Laughing, Philip pulled an arrow from the quiver Peter thrust at him, and knocked it. “She— it’s not like that. I can’t explain it.” He aimed at the closest target. “Which one?”

  “Why don’t you practice while I go get some water? I’ll be back soon. Are you thirsty?”

  “I’d appreciate water, thank you.” Philip watched as Peter walked toward the kitchen gardens, and then re-nocked his bow. “Lord, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” he whispered, letting the arrow fly toward its mark. The arrow struck dead center. His initial elation quickly dissipated. It was the last centered arrow of the day.

  The final arrow whizzed past the target, lodging into the earth ten feet past. Philip dropped his bow, defeated. “I’m sorry, Peter. We practiced for days. I thought I was better.” He kicked a stone. “I thought I was ready.”

  “I think you’re trying too hard. Something is bothering you, and it’s affecting your aim. We’ll try again next week.”

  He bit his lip. Had Peter scolded him for not doing his best, he would have felt better. Kindness after failure, when he already felt out of sorts, was worse than any rebuke. “I’ll do better next time. I promise.”

  “I saw Lord Morgan when I went to the kitchen. He wants to see you in the great hall.”

  Philip dawdled as he retrieved his arrows, gathered the ones Peter asked him to repair, and slung his bow over his shoulder. He’d avoided Lord Morgan as long as he could. It was time to confess that they’d failed in their attempt. Worse, Dove had lost part of herself in the process. He didn’t know what to do about that, and Bertha seemed uninterested in the change.

  Lord Morgan met him at the side door near the arbor where they’d spoken that first afternoon nearly a year ago. “Philip, come.”

  “Yes m’lord.” Though he tried, he couldn’t hide the dejection in his tone and his spirit.

  “Come now, lad. Nothing can be as bad as all that— even your pitiful shooting today.”

  “You saw?”

  “I saw.” Lord Morgan’s sympathy made everything seem infinitely worse. “Where is Dove? Aurelia is eager to see her progress with her needlework.”

  “I don’t think there is any progress, m’lord. Dove is…”

  Without another word, Lord Morgan led Philip to his favorite corner of the great hall near the fireplace. He requested ale, bread, and cheese, and waited for the boy to settle himself before he questioned Philip further. “What is wrong?”

  “There’s so much to tell you— so much I shouldn’t, but I will.”

  “Why should you not tell me?”

  A long silence followed Lord Morgan’s question. Philip knew that he risked much by confiding in the Earl of Wynnewood. The man’s position as lord and protector of the lands might make him take dreadful actions, but Philip felt, instinctively, that the story must be told. “I know I have no right to ask,” Philip began, “but I would so like it if you’d promise me something.”

  “What kind of promise?”

  “It’s about the unicorns and everything we’ve done to capture them. There are things— secrets.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know how much you already know, but…”

  “Tell me exactly what you want me to promise, Philip. I cannot make it if I don’t know what you request.”

  With a prayer in his heart, Philip met Lord Morgan’s eyes for the first time that day and said, “I ask that you promise not to retaliate when I tell you what has happened.”

  “Retaliate? Against whom?”

  The troubled boy’s spirit warred within itself. His sense of honor demanded that he keep the secrets he promised to keep. His concern for his friend insisted that people were more important than promises. Both decisions seemed equally right and wrong. “Please, Lord Morgan, I’m about to break a promise. I need to know that innocent people won’t suffer because I do.”

  “And you think that I would harm innocent people, Philip?” Charles Morgan sounded hurt.

  “Oh, no, m’lord, not directly, but if they were intermingled with those who are not innocent…”

  The fire crackled, the refreshments arrived, and long after they were consumed, Philip still wrestled with the confession he felt honor bound to keep and to share. At last, he took a deep breath and asked a different question. “Would you consider a compromise? Would you promise to give me time to warn the innocent if you chose to take action?”

  “That, I believe, I can safely promise.” The lord of the castle sent everyone from the room, closed and barred the doors, and then pulled his chair closer to Philip’s. “Tell me what is troubling you, lad.”

  “During the blizzard, Dove survived because she met some people living in the caves of the Sceadu.”

  “People? Who could live in such—” A strange look filled the lord’s eyes and he considered Philip’s words. “I wonder…”

  “What, m’lord?”

  “My grandfather spoke of a people who once lived here. He never knew if they were real or legend, but people said that they were very small and highly intelligent.” Th
e man’s eyes pierced through Philip as if seeking an answer to a question. “Grandfather called them the Mæte.”

  “They are not legend, m’lord.” Philip wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Just knowing that his story wouldn’t seem impossibly fantastic was already a comfort.

  “And these Mæte helped Dove?”

  “They fed her. It was Jakys’, the one who found her, plan to keep her safe until the blizzard was over and then lead her home.”

  “What happened?”

  “They had a party. Dove danced with them, and her hood flew back. Everyone saw her.”

  Lord Morgan stood and paced the floor, his hands behind his back and his brow furrowed in thought. “Go on.”

  “They were frightened. Apparently, Dove truly is terrifying. They screamed, ran, everyone calling her Scynscaþa!”

  “Demon! How dare they!”

  “Jakys hid her until the king of the Mæte could send for her. He feared for her safety after everyone saw her.”

  “That sounds reasonable. I’m glad he wasn’t swayed by her ‘frightful’ appearance.”

  “Well,” Philip explained, “Dove says that Jakys saw her uncovered while she slept. He knew before he brought her into the mountain.”

  “How deep do the caverns go?”

  He hesitated. If he shared too much… Resignation, followed by resolution, drove him onward. “All the way through, m’lord. There are tunnels, caverns, rooms… It is a labyrinth of immense proportions.” A new thought occurred to him as he described the home of the Mæte. “I found it hard to walk through most of it. The rooms were large enough, but the tunnels were low. I was bent much of the time, and running…” He ducked his head sheepishly. “I hit my head repeatedly as you can see.”

  “Well, it doesn’t sound as if my men could invade even if I wanted to. What retaliation were you thinking of, Philip? It sounds as if they reacted naturally to fear, but she is home and safe.”

  Philip explained the legends of the unicorns, Dove’s failed attempt to lure one to her, and Letty’s subsequent failure as well. “When the Mæte heard that Dove hadn’t secured the animal, they decided she was a threat.” He clenched his fists, remembering. “Two of the men took her into the caverns. What they were going to do, I don’t know, but it wasn’t good. I doubt they’d make a slave of something they feared.”

 

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