by Peter Wacht
Thomas regained his feet in an instant, scrambling forward on his knees, the chain around his hands gathered together to bring down on the back of the man's head. It was wasted effort on his part. The reiver was so intent on the scene before him that he didn't have time to brace himself. Falling on his own dagger, the sharp blade sliced into his gut. The life had already left his eyes when Thomas rolled him over.
Tearing his eyes from the reiver's lifeless gaze, Thomas saw that Oso had gotten there just in time, knocking over the reiver walking behind the girl, a tall, spare man with long brown hair. Having removed one obstacle, Oso jumped over the girl and, like Thomas, gathered the chains around his wrists into his hands.
The reiver dragging the girl away had lost his grip on the chains and was bending over to take hold of her again, unaware of the approaching danger. As he looked up, he was greeted by the steel wrapped around Oso's hands. The tremendous blow sent the reiver flying through the air. Before he could recover and draw his dagger, Oso was on top of him, bringing his fists down again and again on the man's head and upper body.
It took a few seconds for the tall, dazed reiver to realize why he was sitting in the mud. When he finally regained his senses, he climbed back to his feet with his dagger drawn. Oso was still pounding away on the other reiver with his back turned. The tall reiver ran forward, a vicious grin on his face.
Before he could strike, Thomas was there, having slogged through the mud as fast as he could. Thomas launched himself over the girl and onto the back of the reiver. This one, at least, was smart enough to break his fall with his hands, but he couldn't prevent Thomas from slipping his chains around his neck. Shoving the reiver's face in the mud, Thomas rose to his knees and brought them down onto the reiver's back, preventing him from rising. Crossing his arms, Thomas pulled upward with all his strength.
The reiver grasped desperately at the chain crushing his throat. Thomas refused to lessen his hold as the reiver's face slowly turned red, then blue. His actions became more frantic as he tried to throw Thomas off his back. Thomas only pulled tighter across the man's neck until finally the reiver's hands fell forward into the mud, the strength having left his body with his last breath of air. Thomas remained where he was for a full thirty seconds, just to make sure.
Thomas unwrapped the chain from the man's neck, not bothering to look at his blue and swollen face. Rising to his feet, he was pleased to see that Oso was all right. He had eliminated the other reiver and was now comforting the girl, who was still too afraid to move.
Thomas surveyed the courtyard. He was surprised by the almost total silence that met his ears. He and Oso seemed to be surrounded by statues. No one moved, neither the Highlanders nor the reivers. They were all too surprised by what had just happened. In only a few minutes he and Oso had killed four reivers.
Thomas corrected himself. Actually only three reivers, since one of them fell on his own knife, though, he assumed, it was still their fault. Killeran would not be pleased. If Thomas was lucky, he would be going back for another of Killeran's lessons in pain, and Oso would probably join him this time. If not, well, he didn't want to think about that.
Thomas smiled as he looked around. It felt good to finally act, rather than react. Ever since he had been captured, he had been led around on a leash. A sudden surge of pride ran through him.
"I am a Highlander!" he yelled, his words echoing through the tiny valley. "I will be free!"
It was a foolish thing to do, he knew. But it felt so good. He even heard a few cheers coming from the other Highlanders and sensed their pride.
"You always have to make a scene, don't you?" said Oso, a wicked gleam in his eye.
He had coaxed the girl to sit up, though she still clutched his shirt and used his chest as a pillow for her head. It didn't look like she was ever going to release him, and Thomas thought that Oso wouldn't mind if that were the case.
"Sorry, I couldn't resist."
His shout jolted the reivers in the courtyard into motion. More than a dozen ran toward Thomas and Oso with swords drawn. They slowed down to a quick jog when a few lost their balance in the mud. Oso pried the girl's fingers from his chest and stood next to Thomas. If the reivers were as intent on killing them as it appeared, he and Oso didn’t stand much of a chance. But they certainly wouldn't go out without a fight.
Oso stepped a few feet to Thomas' left, giving them both a little more room to maneuver. He made sure the girl was behind him. If nothing else, he promised himself that she would survive. Both Thomas and Oso prepared for the coming onslaught, bending their knees slightly and standing on their toes. Neither picked up a sword or dagger from one of the dead reivers. If they didn’t have a weapon, it might persuade the reivers not to kill them immediately. They weren't afraid of dying, but they certainly wouldn't mind avoiding it a little longer.
One of the reivers outpaced his friends and charged toward Thomas with his sword poised above his head. Thomas had no doubt as to his intentions. His body tensed as he waited for the man to come just a little closer.
"Stop!"
The shout caught everyone by surprise, especially the reiver running toward Thomas. The other reivers, who were moving more slowly, came to a halt as they recognized the voice that had issued the command.
The single reiver recognized it as well, but was moving too fast to stop as he slid through the mud. Seeing the predicament he was in, Thomas stepped out of the man's way and let him slide past. A few yards later, the reiver lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground. His efforts earned himself several guffaws of laughter from the other reivers, who circled Thomas, Oso and the girl, their swords at the ready.
Killeran stepped around his men, holding his untarnished white cape around one forearm to prevent it from dragging through the mud. His silver breastplate gleamed brightly, having just been polished for the third time that day.
"What's the meaning of this?"
"Please, Lord Killeran," said the girl. "It wasn't their fault." She motioned toward Thomas and Oso. "Your men were trying to—"
Killeran's face grew a hot red. "Silence!"
The girl stepped closer to Oso, now shaking with fear.
"I don't talk to slaves, girl. Remember that. Sergeant!"
Kursool stepped forward, a look of evil on his face.
"Sergeant, put the girl back into the cage and do her no harm."
Kursool walked between Thomas and Oso and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back toward one of the cages. As she was dragged past Oso she took hold of his shirt.
"Thank you," she whispered. Oso nodded in response.
Killeran waited until she was gone before continuing. "The two boys acting like heroes once again." Killeran counted the bodies. "And four of my men dead." Killeran walked around the two slowly, careful not to fall in the mud. "We shall have to remove this streak of defiance from you, and I know just the way to do it."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Searching in Vain
The two hawks streaked across the sky, flying just above the treetops along the southern edge of the Highlands. Banking around the base of a mountain, they skimmed across a small valley before turning north. It was early evening, the sun no more than a tiny speck in the sky. A strange time for hawks to hunt. They normally searched for prey in the early morning, leaving the night to the owls.
After circling around another mountain and following a small stream farther to the north, the two hawks landed in a small clearing deep within the Highlands. The darkness was almost complete as they settled to the ground near a tiny rivulet of water that ran down from a rocky outcropping. Two bright flashes of white light briefly interrupted the blackness settling over the mountains.
"We'll rest for an hour or so," said Rynlin.
Rya nodded, pulling out some bread and cheese from the small pouch on her belt. Rynlin did the same from his own.
"I thought I sensed him for just a second earlier this afternoon, but I couldn't pinpoint his location."
"So did I," grumbled Rynlin in frustration. "It was for too brief a time, though."
Thomas' grandparents had been looking for him for almost a month. They had waited at first, knowing that Thomas was often gone for a week at a time when he went to the Highlands. But when the faint contact they had with him through their necklaces disappeared, their worry and fear set in. They had found where he had last been before the contact was broken, picking out the signs of the fight that occurred there. Thomas had won the skirmish, but at what cost they didn't know. He wasn't dead. They would have known that immediately. But they couldn't locate him. Some stronger force shielded the power of the necklaces, and that could mean only one thing.
Rynlin settled down next to Rya on a large rock. Rya absently fingered the necklace hanging outside her shirt, tracing the curls of the unicorn's horn. Rynlin sat there in silence. His wife tended to talk to herself when she was worried, and he had learned long before not to interrupt her mumbling.
"That boy will not be wandering through the Highlands by himself ever again," she was saying. "I don't care if I have to take him over my knee. There is no way he will be out of my sight again. He's too young to be out on his own. Much too young."
Soon her rambling became incomprehensible, and Rynlin didn't pay attention anymore. Instead he stared off into space, a grim expression on his face.
After a few minutes, Rya realized what she was doing. She looked over at her husband and saw that he had only taken a few small bites from his cheese. He needed his strength if they were going to continue searching for their grandson. Experienced as they were in the Talent, it still took a great deal of energy to change shape and maintain it for so long a time. She was going to remind him to eat some more, but decided against it.
Rya had seen that black look on her husband's face only a handful of times before, and usually under only the direst of circumstances. She decided against talking to him. His anger and frustration were plain. Though gruff on the exterior, she knew that Rynlin cared for his grandson a great deal. Woe to any person who might try harming Thomas. When it involved a member of Rynlin's family, his wrath knew no bounds.
They sat there in silence for almost an hour, both munching on their cheese and bread but not really tasting it. Finally, Rynlin rose from his seat and walked toward the center of the clearing. Rya brushed the crumbs off her hands and followed.
Twin flashes of bright white light again lit up the clearing. Two large hawks appeared, standing majestically where Rynlin and Rya had been. Without a sound, the birds of prey lifted off into the sky, their powerful wings quickly pulling them higher. They flew with a purpose. Their grandson was alive, for now. They promised themselves that they would find him, and when they did, whoever had taken him from them would regret it for the rest of their very short lives.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Block
The lash bit into Thomas' flesh, reopening a long cut across his back already encrusted with dried blood. The lash bit again and again and again, but Thomas refused to cry out, gritting his teeth against the sting. Each stroke sizzled against his skin, sending sharp spikes of agony through his body. That, along with the dozens of tiny burns that had not yet healed, made him feel like that's all there was to life. Pain. Pain in which you could hide from the problems of the world, the struggles of your life, and slip away quietly to a calm and peaceful place. Where pain could no longer touch you. Where nothing could touch you.
Thomas shook his head to clear the cobwebs. He was on the verge of unconsciousness again. He should have welcomed it. It eliminated the pain for a time. But there was a danger. He was afraid that sometime soon, he would drift off and never wake up again. His entire body was on fire. There was only one thing in his life right now, and that was the sharp flash of pain that surged through him when the lash struck his back or chest.
Finally, after ten sharp bolts of tingling misery, it stopped and was replaced by the deep burn of his many wounds. Killeran had told Kursool to make sure Thomas and Oso hurt more than they ever thought possible, but to ensure that they also remained alive. For three days Kursool had succeeded. On the stroke of every hour, Thomas and Oso were dealt five lashes. Every hour on the hour for three days. And they were still alive.
Thomas looked over at his friend. The reivers had started with him first this time. Oso was unconscious now. Thankfully, his friend was still breathing, as his chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. He envied his friend in a way. It was the only way to escape the pain, if only for a few minutes.
The reivers assigned the task of caring for the two prisoners laughed heartily as they returned to their barracks. It was early morning, with dawn just a few hours away. The biting cold actually refreshed Thomas, easing the pain to a certain extent.
He and Oso were on the block, something that they hadn't paid much attention to during their time in the Black Hole. Situated near the gates of the fort, so anyone entering or leaving would see it, the block functioning as a small stage, and one of the few places in the fort not covered by mud. Kursool had chained Thomas and Oso to it, their wrists attached by long steel lengths to metal shackles set in the wood floor. They could sit or even lie down on the block, but more important, they could be made to stand up, giving their jailers clear targets for their lashes.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Respect
The sun was about to brighten the sky when the first chain gang of workers made its way slowly out through the gates of the fort on their way to the mines. As they passed by, each one turned to the right to look at the block. Thomas and Oso stood there proudly, refusing to sit or lie down. They would not show any sign of weakness, though their bodies could barely keep them upright. The torture was taking its toll.
Most of the Highlanders stared at the two, their pride obvious. Some nodded in respect. They remembered now what it was like to be a Highlander, what it was like to be free, after such a long period of time in the mines. Killeran had hoped that by placing the two on the block, the gradual deterioration of their spirit would cow the Highlanders into working harder. The opposite had happened. It had made them angry — and proud.
Though their bodies cried out for peace — their torsos covered by cuts, bruises, welts and dried blood — Thomas and Oso ignored the pain as best they could. Their shirts had been reduced to tattered blood-red ribbons, yet they wore them as coats of arms.
Oso stood up a little straighter as the last chain gang of workers exited the fort. The girl they had saved was with them. She had recovered from the attack by the two reivers, the bruises on her wrists having healed. Each morning and evening, she locked eyes with Oso. Everything she wanted to say was in her eyes, and Oso never failed to read them.
Oso had regained consciousness shortly after the reivers returned to their barracks earlier in the morning. Thomas made him drink from the water skins the reivers left for them. The cool liquid revived him somewhat. Yet the only thing that could really help would be weeks of bed rest. At the moment Thomas could think of nothing better than being in his bed back home on the Isle of Mist, but it was a foolish wish, and he banished it from his mind. Killeran approached from across the muddy green with several reivers in tow.
"A wonderful morning, is it not, gentlemen?" Thomas wanted nothing more than to shove Killeran’s insolent grin into the mud. "So how are you faring today?"
Killeran knew that neither of the two would respond to his questions, but he still enjoyed taunting the two would-be heroes.
Thomas and Oso stood there in silence, though Thomas watched Killeran with keen eyes. Something was going on. Ever since they had been placed on the block, the whippings had taken place exactly on the hour, every hour. But the reivers had missed the last four. And Killeran had not shown his face for the last few days, staying cooped up in his headquarters with his sergeants.
Thomas took a moment to study the camp. There was more activity going on than usual, with many more reivers out and about at this early hour than Thom
as had ever seen before. The reivers were preparing for something. Maybe that's why Killeran had forgotten about them.
"I know you've enjoyed your time in the spotlight, and I certainly would like to extend it," said Killeran, wiping an imaginary piece of dirt from his silver breastplate. "Unfortunately, other pressing matters prevent it, so we'll be returning you to your cells for the time being. If you're still alive when I return— Well, I don't really expect that to be the case." Killeran laughed at his own joke, as did his men. "Take them down and put them back in their cells."
As the reivers hastened forward to obey Killeran's command, Thomas and Oso looked at one another. Their expressions remained grim, but their eyes danced with pleasure. Killeran was finally leading another raid, and with him would go the warlocks. The exhaustion and pain that had become a common part of their lives dissipated. They felt restored, as if the wounds on their bodies were miraculously healed. Their thoughts immediately turned to escape.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Anticipation
"Just as I told you," said Oso. "Killeran's taking them out now. It gives them a better chance of avoiding the Highland scouts."
The moon was well up in the sky, shining down brightly on the earth below. It was close to midnight, and though the reivers tried to leave the compound as quietly as possible, with such a large number of men and horses it was virtually impossible. Why Killeran demanded absolute silence, Thomas didn’t know. He was in his own fort. Why should he care if anyone else in the Black Hole knew what was going on?
It only created more confusion as the reivers tried to organize through whispers and hand signals. Thomas had a hard time not laughing at the scene before him. Whoever led the pack horses was not doing a very good job. The leads for the dozen or so animals were hopelessly entangled, and any reiver unfortunate enough to ride by often got caught up with them. Thomas would have laughed, if not for his desire to see Killeran take his troop of soldiers out through the gates as quickly as possible.