by Robert Evert
“Our people are dying!” Edith cried. “Soon there won’t be any of us left!”
“Then send them up here!”
Edith straightened.
Lester opened an eye.
For a moment, everything in the surrounding hills fell still.
“What are you saying?” Edith asked.
“Send them up here,” Edmund repeated, “away from Eryn Mas and the stupid nobility. Send them to Rood. They’ll be welcome there.”
“Are you …?” Edith held her breath. “Are you saying you’re going to make the Highlands a kingdom for magic users?”
The thought had never occurred to Edmund, but now the idea struck him like a winter gale.
Keep an open mind, just like Vin said. See all the possibilities …
He saw several, and many made his heart pound with excitement.
He chose his words carefully. “If we could get enough magic users to come to the Highlands … we might be safe.”
Both Edith and Lester exhaled.
“Our own kingdom,” Edith whispered.
“But what about Lionel?” the dwarf said doubtfully. “And the rest of the ordinary human kings? Those bastards wouldn’t stand to have an entire kingdom of magic users. They’d come and eradicate everybody they found.”
“They wouldn’t have to know,” Edith put in. “Not at first. Not until we were strong enough to defend ourselves.”
Even Edmund felt the enormity of the discussion, as if his entire world had just shifted, or clouds long hanging over his heart had parted. He lowered his sword. “A safe haven for magic users …”
Keep an open mind. See all the possibilities …
What about non-magic users? How would they react? What would the men already living in Rood do if magic users started to appear in town?
Edith’s words echoed in his mind: They wouldn’t have to know.
True. Magic users from around the continent could simply come to Rood like any other travelers looking for a better life, and nobody but Edmund would know. As governor, he could get them situated, give them jobs, and make sure people left them alone; if anybody was accused of witchcraft, the charges could be easily dismissed. Abby was the Minister of Laws, after all. Magic users would be safe from persecution.
They exchanged excited yet uncertain glances.
“All right.” Edith cleared her throat and spoke louder. “We can help you, Edmund. We know others. We know powerful magic users who—”
“Send them north,” Edmund found himself saying. “Send them all to Rood. Nobody will burn or stone them to death. They’ll be safe there.”
“But what about the King?” Lester cried. “He’s going to kill you! He’s going to kill all of you rebels, and I can’t stop him. He’s no longer under my control!”
“I—” Edmund stopped.
Behind the dwarf, Becky had lifted her head abruptly. She glared toward the top of the hill, sniffing the air, lip curling in a silent snarl. Edmund wielded his sword again.
“If that’s Horic—! If this is a trap—!”
Edith hushed him. “Riders!”
Horses approached from the other side of the hill. From the sound of their clomping through wet leaves and snapping twigs, there were several of them, and they were getting closer.
Tied to a tree at the bottom of the slope, Edmund’s horse snorted and whinnied as if greeting old friends.
“Can either of you fight?” Edmund whispered.
Lester snorted. “Yes, I’m the strongest dwarf in the world. Just let me at them!” Then he muttered under his breath, “Idiot.”
Edith produced a curved knife, but it wouldn’t do much against a soldier’s chainmail and weaponry.
You’ll have to do this by yourself.
“Stay here,” Edmund told them and hurried behind a tree.
“What are you doing?” Edith hissed.
Edmund put a finger to his lips. “Ambush.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “Always doing things the hard way.” He shook his head, disgusted. “And he’s going to save our people?”
The horses drew closer, pushing their way through the forest.
“Becky, hide.”
With his back flat against the tree, Edmund signaled for Lester and Edith to stay where they were and to be quiet. The riders would go for them and Edmund would surprise them from behind.
The horses clomped up the hill. Before long, riders appeared on the summit. They saw Lester and Edith standing halfway up the hill’s western slope.
“You there!” one of them called out as they maneuvered their horses down the hill.
“Stand!” another rider shouted, bow drawn. “Move, and you’ll die!”
“Move, and you’ll die!” mimicked the dwarf. “Oh, how original.”
Seven riders in all, dressed and equipped like the scouts Edmund had seen coming north along the river, surrounded Edith and Lester with expert horsemanship, spears and bows ready to deliver death.
Damn it!
There are too many of them.
“Who are you?” one rider demanded. “Tell us where Rood is!”
Lester smiled affably at them and turned in a circle. He staggered and danced comically, eyes glittering pale blue in the shadows.
“Why, it isn’t the rebels,” another rider said. “It’s that dwarf, His Highness’s jester!”
“That’s right.” Lester twirled in front of the ring of horsemen. “It is I!”
The riders’ faces went blank as they stared at the whirling dwarf.
From behind the tree, Edmund waved his arms and shook his head. He pantomimed riding a horse.
Lester spotted Edmund.
“No,” he said to the dreamy-faced riders, “no, I am not the brilliantly talented court jester who entertains so many of the lesser folk like you muscle-bound morons. We are …” He checked with Edmund, who continued to pretend to ride. “We are riders!”
Edmund pointed northeastward, toward the smoke rising near the mountains, then pretended to ride madly in that direction, looking behind himself in terror.
Lester seemed to understand.
“We are rebel riders!” he announced. “There’re hundreds of us! And we’re all chasing you in that direction!” He pointed to where Edmund had indicated. “Flee! Run away, or we’ll kill you! Run, you simple-minded asses, run!”
Without even blinking, all seven riders swung their horses around and rode northeastward as if an entire army of rebels was closing in.
“And crap your pants while you’re at it!” Lester called after them.
When they’d gone, Edmund and Becky emerged from their hiding spots.
That was close.
“How long will they ride?”
“You’re welcome!” replied the dwarf. “Is that so hard for you to say? Honestly!”
“Were you in earnest about what you said?” Edith asked impatiently. “About the Highlands becoming a kingdom for magic users? Did you mean that?”
This is your chance. Get information! Find out what she knows!
“How many do you think you could bring up here?” Edmund asked in kind.
“From Eryn Mas? Maybe thirty.”
“Thirty?” Edmund stared in disbelief. “I had no idea there were so many!”
“Most of them are stupid tradesmen and worthless dolts,” Lester said. “They can’t do what we can do. Not even close.”
“But some can do things of value,” Edith added.
“Thirty magic users,” Edmund repeated.
Plus myself and Vin …
Maybe we could all learn from each other! Start a university where we can expand upon each other’s knowledge. Think of all the great things we could do!
Ordinary humans won’t go for it. They’ll start killing us. Other kings will ride up here and—
Nobody has to know, just like Edith said! The Highlands could be a safe haven with laws protecting people accused of witchcraft.
Keep an open mind … see all the
possibilities … don’t miss anything.
Edmund looked at Edith and then Lester. They seemed far more like allies than he’d originally thought them to be, not as evil and hate-filled.
“Send them north,” he said. “All of them.”
“Are you certain they’ll be safe?” Edith asked.
“We only have about two hundred thirty people right now,” Edmund replied, trying to think everything through. “If a significant proportion of townsfolk were magic users, then—”
“We could take over!” Lester said.
“No,” Edmund said sternly. “First we’ll see if magic users will be accepted. I’m the governor of Rood, and people tend to do what I say.”
“Yes, but for how long?” Edith said. “Sooner or later, people will hear you’re one of us. Then what’ll happen?”
Edmund had often wondered the same thing. Everybody in town loved him, but they didn’t really know who or what he was. Would they still do what he said if they knew he was a magic user? Fear of witches was strong in the hearts of most. They might turn on him.
“Send them north,” Edmund said again. “Have them talk to me in private. I’ll get them settled. Once we have enough of us in key positions throughout the town, the non-magic users will have to accept us. They’ll see our contributions and understand we aren’t monsters who’ll hurt them.”
Edith scoffed. “They’ll never accept us. Never.”
“Yeah,” Lester said. “What then?”
Keep an open mind … see all the possibilities.
“I don’t know,” Edmund replied. “But if we do things right, if we think everything through, then … we may have a good chance to save our people.”
Our people.
Those words warmed Edmund’s heart more than Vin’s brandy.
Finally, a home. A real home!
“What about Old Yellowhair?” Lester said. “The King is up here with an entire army of his mutton-brained soldiers. They’re going to kill you and everybody else in your precious town. You can’t fight them.”
“No, but we can delay them. Winter is coming.”
“So?”
“We stole his supplies.”
Edith and Lester gaped.
From far off came the faint noise of the riders still racing away through the forest.
“What do you mean?” the dwarf said.
“We stole his supplies.” Edmund smiled. “His food, his clothing. If he doesn’t leave the Highlands soon, he and his knights will freeze to death once winter hits.”
Chapter Fourteen
For several days after his encounter with Edith and Lester, Edmund rode northeasterly along old deer paths and overgrown trails, searching for Abby and the party she’d led to post signs along the River Celerin. During most of his lonely ride, he contemplated the possibility of forming Rood into a sanctuary for all magic users—some place they could be safe and productively contribute to the community. The idea thrilled him, as if he’d suddenly found his life’s purpose. He just didn’t know yet how non-magic users would react.
First things first. Deal with Lionel.
As he drew closer to the mountains, Edmund came across many scattered horse tracks in far greater numbers than what Abby and her men could have made. Soon he found evidence of large camps—discarded food bags, the burned-out remains of campfires. He even discovered some of Rood’s fake signs hacked to pieces. Lionel’s men were clearly getting frustrated.
Becky led Edmund to a narrow valley where five figures huddled over a meager fire.
He dismounted.
“Ed!” Abby threw herself into his arms, nearly in tears.
He hugged her. She was filthy and reeked of horse, but he didn’t want to let go. “What’s wrong?”
“Bain’s missing!”
“What?” Edmund turned to one of the men in the party for clarification. “What are you talking about?”
“We rode north.” Abby pulled away, embarrassed. “North along the river, like you said, nailing signs to trees, making tracks. We rode up to that old tower you told us about, where Bain and his men were lighting the campfires.”
“Tol Helen?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Abby sobbed. “But they were all dead.”
One of the guards stepped forward. “We found three of Bain’s men slain, and four horses slaughtered.”
“They killed the horses?” Edmund repeated, not sure he truly understood them. “What about Bain? Did you find his body? What happened to him? How were they all killed?”
“Bain wasn’t among the bodies,” another guard said. “We suspect he’s been taken prisoner. Their packs were still at the campsite.”
“Everybody had been hacked to pieces,” the first guard added. “Butchered.”
“Ed”—Abby’s brown eyes shone with fear—“the King’s men are all over these hills. They’re swarming northward toward the smoke. They must have captured him!”
Edmund thought for a moment. Something didn’t seem right. Why would the King’s men kill the horses? And why wouldn’t they take Bain’s pack? By now they were probably in desperate need of supplies. None of it made sense.
“If you’re worried that Bain will tell the King where Rood is—” one of the guards began.
“He’d never do it,” another interrupted. “He’s a tough bastard. Him and Captain Hendrick. Neither would turn on us.”
Edmund nodded. He wasn’t worried that Bain would reveal Rood’s location. He was more shaken over the fact that Bain was missing and his men were killed.
“Are you sure he was taken prisoner?” He couldn’t imagine Bain would ever be captured alive. He was the type who’d keep fighting, even if surrounded and outnumbered. In fact, he’d likely take great personal pride in cutting down as many enemies as he could before meeting his own end.
“We’ve scouted the area and found nothing.”
“He wouldn’t just leave camp without his pack, not in this country. I mean, he could hunt for food, but why would he? There was enough in those bags to last a week or more.”
“I’m sorry, Ed.” Abby touched his arm tenderly. “I know you two were—”
Everybody froze.
Maybe a half mile away, hundreds of hooves thundered through the forest, headed north.
“All right,” Edmund said once the riders had passed. “We need to get out of here. Are your horses fit to ride?”
Chapter Fifteen
“So just try to be kinder to him, okay?” Edmund said to Abby as they rode along. “Pond and I have been through a lot.”
They were traveling on a little-used path, heading southward toward Rood. Over the past few days, the weather had still stayed too warm for snow, enough to feel like early spring. But the wind was now blowing from the northwest, the skies were clouding over again, and temperatures were dropping rapidly. A storm was approaching.
“I know,” Abby said weakly. “It’s just … it’s just that I’m not interested. I see him as a friend, you know?”
Edmund grimaced. Molly had once said that to him.
“That bad, eh?”
“Abby, that’s the last thing any man wants to hear. You might as well kick him in the groin.”
“Really? Then what should I tell him?”
“That you like Merek and you see yourself marrying him someday. Pond’ll understand that perfectly. It’s not about him; it’s about you and Merek.”
“Merek?” Abby said, puzzled. “What makes you think I’d want to be around him for the rest of my life?”
A watcher stood up on a hill near Rood and waved a dark flag, signaling to the town that friends approached. Then shouts of “It’s Mr. Edmund!” and “He’s back!” cascaded from the hilltops.
“Look,” Edmund said quickly, knowing he’d soon be bombarded with ceaseless questions for the rest of the night, “just keep in mind that men are more fragile than we appear—even men of adventure like me and Pond!”
He winked at her and Abby laughed.
/> Watchers from the neighboring hills ran down the slopes.
“Don’t leave your posts!” Edmund called to them.
But they didn’t turn back. They kept coming.
Abby watched them race closer. “Something’s wrong.”
Edmund thought so, too. He could see it in their faces. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
One of them nodded toward Rood, gasping for breath.
“Mr. Pond!” another managed to say.
That was all Edmund needed. He drove his heels into his horse’s side and bolted toward Rood with Becky, Abby, and the guards close behind.
People crowded around the west gate, talking and yelling at Edmund as he neared. Pond wasn’t among them.
“Where’s Pond?” Edmund scanned the crowd. “Where is he?”
Everybody was shouting, terror in their faces. When somebody pointed to The Buxom Barmaid, Edmund urged his horse through the crowd, knocking several people aside in the process.
“Pond!”
He leapt down before his mount fully stopped—
“Pond!”
—and sprinted up the stairs to the front door, threw it open, Becky sped to catch up.
Pond sat at a table in the corner, crying.
“Pond?”
The common room was empty. Edmund stood in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, Ed,” Pond whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
People ran up to Edmund, all talking at once. Somebody mentioned Vin. Everybody was agitated, many were yelling.
“Give me a minute!” Edmund slammed the tavern door in their faces.
“Pond?” He had the urge to draw his sword but didn’t know why.
“I’m sorry,” Pond repeated, old and new tears on his cheeks.
Edmund smelled the alcohol from across the common room. Pond was drunk. He could barely hold his head up.
Outside the commotion continued.
“Where’s Vin?” Edmund asked.
“I’m so, so—”
“I don’t care if you’re sorry! Where is he? What’s going on? What’s this all about?”
Pond trembled, heaving breaths worsening. He couldn’t speak.
“Where is he?” Edmund demanded.