by Kim Dragoner
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“How could you guide us through? Is it some magical thing?” he asked.
“I’ve a gift for seeing through the fog,” she replied. “It’s why Merlin asked me to come along.”
“Merlin asked you to come along?” He’d wondered about her sudden appearance, but that was the first time that he’d heard that it hadn’t been by accident.
“He did,” she responded. “To guide you through the mists and through the mountains.”
“So you aren’t a barmaid and innkeeper at all.”
“Does that disappoint you?” she laughed.
“No. I just…” John couldn’t finish the sentence. He wasn’t sure if he felt betrayed or not. Neither he nor Thomas had even considered questioning how she had come to be in the inn in Penrith, but things were beginning to make a little bit more sense; except, of course, for the tone that she’d first taken with him.
Chapter Twelve
“You’re ridin’ where ye don’t belong,” the voice called out to them.
It was past midday and they’d just started along their way when John began to feel uncomfortable; like something or someone was out there watching them. They’d survived the fog and had the pleasure of watching it slowly dissipate and reveal the valley below. They had taken their midday rest in that valley and were following a stream that led up the bottom of it toward the bald-faced mountain that had stood over them all morning.
At the sound of the voice, they stopped and John announced himself. “We are Sir John of Leeds, Sir Thomas of Manchester and Merlin, along with our squires and Lady Alpina of Auchavan. We bring you no harm.”
“She of Auchavan, I’ve heard of, but the rest of ye aren’t welcome,” the large man chuckled as he stepped out from his hiding place and into the trail in front of them. John heard and felt others appearing all around and behind them. “I’m not worried ‘bout harm comin’ to me, my concern is for you.”
“We have been given authority to pass through this land on an errand of Arthur, King of the Britons and ruler of Camelot,” John replied. “We are in search of my father, Jofrit, a Knight of the Round Table and will not turn away from our quest. You would be ill-advised to bring us harm.”
“Arthur is no king of mine,” the man answered, leaning on a long, heavy sword as he spoke. “Aroun’ here, I’m the king; me an’ my brothers. I haven’t given my authority to you.”
“This land is part of the claim of Arthur and your duty is to obey your king.”
All around them, the laughter of the men was hearty. Feeling the sting of their mockery of King Arthur, John started to draw his sword, as did Thomas.
“Stop!” Alpina commanded. “Steady your hands, knights. You’ve no advantage here.”
“They’ll not insult my king and live,” John hissed through gritted teeth. The flash of anger in his eyes burned through her.
“There will come a time for such display of honor and duty, sirs,” she whispered. “But, I assure you, this is not it.”
“Claimin’ a place and holdin’ it are two different things,” the large man said glaring directly at him. “In fact, to us, this appears like an invasion by your king, though he ought to have sent an army instead of two puny knights and their seer. By the way, knight, I know about your father and he’ll not be ridin’ home with ye, so you might as well turn back.”
“What do you know of my father?” John started Ganador forward, drawing his sword further from its sheath.
“And the high wizard of Briton. You’ve forgotten about me,” Merlin joined in, chuckling softly and then whispering to John. “Steady, my boy.”
“Who are you?”
“I just told you,” Merlin replied, still smiling. “I’m the high wizard of Briton.”
“Wizard, witch, knight or squire makes no difference to us. You’ll not be passin’ through this way without payin’ yer due or feedin’ yer blood to these stones.”
“Our due?” Merlin asked, taking charge of the conversation. “What, exactly, is our due? Do you intend to rob us?”
“It would be much easier if ye just handed over what ye got an’ not make a struggle out of it.”
“What is it that you want?” John asked.
“To start with,” the big man began, “my feet ache from scurrying over these stones and I’d like to rest them on the back of that flea-bit nag you’re ridin’.”
“You will have a taste of my blade before I give him up,” John hissed.
“You’d die for a nag?” the man laughed. “What would your king have to say then?”
“Don’t press him,” Alpina warned in a quiet tone. “He’s only baiting you into a fight.”
“You know these men?” he responded.
“I do,” she replied. “They are all brothers and a very bad lot. The one doing the speaking is Dunmor.”
“Then perhaps they ought to die as a family,” John retorted.
“Let Merlin do his work,” Alpina warned. “Any of us dying here will not help your father.”
“He knows something about my father and I will have it out of him,” John replied.
“There will be nothin’ but bloodshed,” Alpina snapped. “Give it time and an opportunity will present itself.”
“A lot of whisperin’,” Dunmor called out. “I hope she’s advising you to give up your mount instead of your life.”
“I’ll do nothing of the sort, Dunmor!” John snapped. Alpina’s advice was sound, but John was confident that he and Thomas, with the aid of the squires, who, though they were not knighted, were quite adept with their swords, would fare well in spite of the odds against them. “I’ll ask you and your brothers to step aside and you’ll tell me what you know about my father.”
“Ah, so she’s provided you with my name, then,” Dunmor laughed. “At least you’ll know the name of the man who took your life before the dark shadow comes over your eyes.”
“Mister Dunmor,” Merlin broke in. “If I might break in for a moment. I was just wondering if this would be payment enough to get you and your brothers to step aside and let us be on our way.”
Merlin tossed a large, heavy sack to the ground in front of them. By the heavy sound that it made when it hit the trail, John could tell that there were a great number of coins in it. He turned to look at Merlin with his mouth open wide. Where had the wizard come up with such a sum? He doubted that they had that much between them and he certainly hadn’t seen Merlin lugging anything heavy about.
The sound of the bag of coins hitting the ground brought a wide smile to Dunmor’s face. He stepped forward cautiously, opened the bag, peered inside and then dipped his hand into it, bringing out a large handful of coins. One of the nearby brothers gasped at the sight and the entire lot of them exchanged broad smiles.
“A very nice sum, indeed, wizard, if that’s really what you are,” Dunmor laughed. “But I think that we can have this and whatever else you’ve got.”
“I was afraid that you’d say that,” Merlin replied aloud. Then, in a low tone, he told the group to be ready to ride fast.
“You’re whisperin’ again, are you?” Dunmor laughed. “No doubt you’re cookin’ up some magic spell.”
The entire group of brothers laughed at Dunmor’s comment.
“Now!” Merlin cried, tossing some object, which John did not recognize at the feet of Dunmor. The object exploded in a flash and Dunmor started and fell as he stumbled away from it in a start. The surprise of the explosion caused the others to leap back as well. At that moment, the group touched spurs to their horses and charged ahead. For good measure, Merlin continued tossing the objects at the men to keep them from pursuing.
Alpina led them up the valley at a rapid pace for some distance before bringing the pace down to a gap-making trot. As the valley widened and their pace slowed to a walk, John held up enough so that Merlin could ride beside him.
“Where did you get the gold?” John asked.
“It was a littl
e something that I threw together at the last minute,” Merlin replied.
“And the flashes of fire?”
“Another little trick of mine. I’d think you’d be used to that sort of thing by now, Sir John,” Merlin chuckled.
“There is no getting used to wizardry,” John responded. “I don’t know that giving them such a large sum of gold was the best thing to do. With that, they might only become more dangerous and pursue us all the more.”
“I should hope that they’ll pursue us,” Merlin responded. “They know something about your father.”
“But I…” John was baffled by the statement and was unable to complete it.
“They’ll come running along at the speed of a stag come morning,” Merlin continued. “They’ll stalk us before taking their chance and there won’t be any talk, but I’m afraid that when they come, they’ll be coming like a nest of hornets.”
“Why do you say that?”
“On the morrow, that bag of gold will be nothing but a bag of pebbles.”
Chapter Thirteen
Were it not for Merlin’s sleep spell, none of them would have closed their eyes and rested that night and their greater worry wouldn’t have been whether or not to cover their heads against the cold. The encounter had left all of them on edge and they had watched the surrounding woods, jumping at every sound as they sat around the fire in the darkness.
Well rested, but wary, dawn brought a new challenge as they started up the long valley once more.
“They’ll attack when we are in a mist,” Alpina advised. “Until then, we might feel them or even get a glance of them as they watch us, but they will not show themselves.”
“How are we to fight them in the mist?” John asked. He’d remembered not being able to clearly see the head of his mount. “How can they hope to press an attack? Do they all have your gift?”
“Some of them might,” she replied. “It’s not uncommon among these people. Remember, I told you that they are not entirely human. However, gift or not, through years of practice, they have learned to know the sounds and how to fight within the fog. I’ve heard that some of them even close their eyes as they fight, so as to make use of their other senses.”
John had never heard of such a thing. Who would close their eyes in battle? It would certainly mean instant death. He rode quietly, pondering the idea, until another sprang up in his mind. If those who had the gift and could see through the fog were not entirely human, then did that mean that Alpina was not entirely human? He considered the question for a moment. He recalled that Dunmor had referred to her as a seer as well. What sort of woman was he riding with? They had gotten more comfortable around each other in the past few days and John finally decided that the right opportunity to solve the mysteries surrounding her had arrived.
“So, if they are not entirely human,” he began, “does that mean that you’re not entirely human?”
“I wondered when that question would come,” she laughed. “The answer is no.”
John waited for an explanation, but none was forthcoming. He pressed on. “So, if you’re not entirely human, then what is the other part?”
“I’m also part fae,” she replied. “A particular type of fae that are human in form. That magic is what gives us certain gifts that humans don’t possess.”
“Like being able to see through a thick fog,” he responded.
“That and others,” she smiled.
“What others?” he asked.
“Being able to see something of the future,” she responded. “Not in great detail and visions, mind you, but by impressions.”
“Is that why Dunmor referred to you as a seer?” John asked.
“It is.”
Seeing the future, even a blurry impression of it, was a gift that John had always wished of having and he was fascinated by it. “So, you knew that they would come at us and surround us yesterday?”
“Not exactly,” she responded. “I felt as though an uncomfortable moment was coming, but I also felt that it would only be an inconvenience and no great tragedy.”
“You knew that it would turn out okay?” he asked.
“Why do you think that I held you back and advised you to let Merlin do his work?”
“I assumed that you didn’t have faith in our skills,” he laughed.
“That entered my mind,” she returned. “There were nine of them after all.”
“I only saw five,” John answered.
“Exactly! So now I hope you fully understand how severe the matter really was,” she replied.
Nine was more than twice their number if you considered only the two knights and their squires. Of course, Merlin certainly made up the odds with his trickery, but John knew, all too well that Merlin’s magic didn’t make up all of the difference. It hadn’t in the battles against Mordred.
“You, like many humans, depend too greatly on your eyesight to reveal things to you. The truth is, the sooner you realize that vision is sometimes the least reliable of your senses, the better of a warrior you will become.”
John was puzzled by her advice but he considered it seriously. He couldn’t help but ask about what would happen later in the day. “So, do you have an impression of the day’s events?”
“I’ve had none yet,” she smiled. “But I think it will be a happy day for us both.”
John saw something in her eyes as she spoke that sent a thrill through him, though he didn’t quite understand what it was. That untamed, unknown something that he’d seen in the depth of her eyes twinkled with some sort of delight. He had to look away.
They rode along in silence for a time and then she drew up and stopped the group. “Do you feel them?” she asked.
Although he hadn’t been fully aware of it before, in that instant, John knew that there had been some nagging discomfort. “I think so,” he said. “Are you having a vision?”
“I don’t have visions,” she replied, “just impressions. But we need to ride and ride fast.”
The following several minutes reminded John of the race that the two of them had enjoyed outside of Penrith. With Ganador and Blackbird thundering ahead and the others coming along behind at as quick a pace as leading pack animals would allow, they put a great deal of distance between themselves and their stalkers.
As they rounded a bend in the trail, they came to a short, sharp descent in the trail that was covered in shale. Ganador, having been slightly ahead, felt the unstable surface beneath his hooves and dodged away from it, finding his footing on more stable ground. But Blackbird was too late in recognizing the danger and skidded down the slope for several lengths of a horse before turning sharply toward the solid ground under Ganador’s feet.
When Blackbird made the sharp turn, which happened in the blink of an eye, Alpina could no longer keep her seat in the saddle and flew free of her mount. She landed on the shale slope, tumbled and skidded until she came to rest with a jolt against a boulder.
John, unaware of what had taken place behind him, only realized that Alpina was no longer on her mount when he saw the riderless mare come up beside him. He drew back on his reins and turned back. “Alpina!” he called out.
In a panic, John rode back to the foot of the descent and instantly saw the still body of Alpina against the stone. He hurried to her, quickly dismounted and scrambled to her side, turning her to see if she was conscious. “Alpina! Alpina!” he called out to her.
Alpina did not respond.
John heard the sound of the others as they neared the crest of the descent and called out to them. It was Thomas who had arrived there first and his mount had reacted much the same way as Ganador. No doubt, the two battle-tested mounts were a bit quicker in their reaction, but Thomas was able to turn him back toward the others before they came barreling forward and caused a horrible disaster.
Seeing that disaster had been averted, John turned back to the lifeless form before him. Scooping her up in his arms, he held her against him, turned his eyes to heave
n and whispered a prayer. “Don’t take her from me now.”
When he looked back down at her, he was rewarded with the sight of her crystal clear blue eyes looking up into his.
“You live!” he cried out. In his excitement, he pressed his lips to hers before realizing what he was doing. He drew back again. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Only a bit dazed from the fall.”
“I will carry you with me then,” John replied. “You can’t possibly ride further.”
“As much as I would like that,” she smiled softly, “I think that I can ride.”
“But…” John was unable to finish his response as he watched her push away from him and steady herself on her feet. His mouth fell open as he looked at her. It had to have been some miracle that she was on her feet when moments before he was certain that she was dead.
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you sure that you’re okay?” John asked. It had been the same question at least a dozen times since she’d been tossed from Blackbird’s back.
“I have already told you that the ladies of Auchavan are made of more durable stuff than those delicate flowers to the south,” she laughed. “Please, John, stop worrying over me. I’ll have a bruise or two and walking won’t be easy for a day or two, but we’ll be in the saddle, so I’ll be fine.”
There had been a discussion about making camp earlier. John had insisted that Alpina needed tending to, but she had stubbornly limped to Blackbird and remounted the mare without giving heed to him in any form. “We must take advantage of the distance we have gained,” she said.
They’d ridden on at a slower, but steady pace and John had stayed very close behind and beside her whenever a wider spot in the trail presented the opportunity. His constant nagging had begun to wear thin on her and she finally snapped at him.
“John, stop! I’m fine.”
It was in that moment that he realized that she had dropped the sir and called him only by his given name. He also realized that he didn’t mind what she called him anymore. Though his concern for her had pushed it out of his mind, the memory of her soft lips pressed against his and the tingle that had gone through him returned once more. It had been, though perhaps an accident, a very delightful one.