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The Gift

Page 5

by Bryan M. Litfin

Teo knew he could have approached the castle unobserved. He had been well trained in woodland stealth. However, he rode in the open toward the castle, hoping to appear as a friend, not a threat. The sentries had no way of knowing he was a mercenary in their army. Teo turned his horse onto a grassy path that seemed to wind toward the castle.

  “Halt where you are!”

  The command rang out from the woods, accompanied by an arrow that lodged itself in the dirt in front of Teo’s horse. If the archer had raised the bow a few degrees, he could have put the arrow through Teo’s chest.

  “I mean no harm,” Teo called out in the Ulmbartian tongue. “I am an ally of your people, seeking aid.” He hoped his accent was good enough that the sentry might actually believe him.

  “Who are you?” The sentry sounded uncertain.

  “A soldier of fortune employed by Ulmbartia. I’ve been sent on a mission from Lieutenant Celso. See here: I have his signet.” Teo nudged his horse forward and held up the gold ring.

  A second arrow hissed past Teo’s head. “Do not come any closer! Perhaps you are a thief who took it from the lieutenant.”

  “How then would I know his name? Or that of his wife, Isotta? We have spoken of her often during the month I’ve served under his command. He gave me his ring as proof I have come from him.”

  The sentry stepped from the forest, a boyish soldier with a thin frame. Two other men emerged from the undergrowth behind him, while a fourth could be heard departing toward the castle through the brush.

  The young leader gestured with his drawn sword. “You will throw your weapons to the ground, dismount, and follow us. Commander Duilo will see you.”

  Teo complied with the sentry’s order and was led to the imposing fortress on the hill. Even in the waning light, he could see the place was strong and well built. It was constructed as a single building like a keep, not an enclosure with a courtyard. Only a few windows punctuated its massive walls. The castle had battlements on top and towers at its corners, some round, the others square.

  Firelight flickered in a hearth as Teo entered. He was escorted to a room marked off by curtains. It was a well-appointed area with a desk, a bed, and a rug on the floor. Lanterns illuminated the space. A trim, battle-hardened commander rose from the desk to confront Teo.

  “Give me the ring,” he said gruffly.

  Teo handed it to him.

  “You are a friend of Lieutenant Celso’s, you say?”

  Teo nodded. “I was hired as a man-at-arms in exchange for food and shelter. Now I am on a mission of mercy from him.”

  “Your accent is terrible, and your grammar is jumbled, yet you speak our language well enough. How is this so?”

  “I picked it up from the men. Languages come easy to me.”

  “If you are Celso’s friend, he will no doubt have told you how he got the little scar above his eyebrow.”

  “He said a cowardly cadet at military school bit him in a fight.”

  Commander Duilo burst into laughter, standing for a long time with his hands on his hips and his head thrown back. Finally he shook his head in disbelief.

  “Don’t you believe it! That mangy old dog head-butted me in the teeth! Didn’t help him, though. He lost that fight. We go way back, Celso and I. He’s a good man.” Commander Duilo waved the sentries out of the room, then pointed to a canvas chair. “Sit down, son, and tell me your name and why you’re here.”

  Cold sausages and ale were brought as Teo recounted the story of the wolf attack. Soon the implications of Teo’s presence at the castle began to dawn on Commander Duilo.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, holding up his hands. “You mean you’ve come from the wilderness? Over the pass? You actually found it?”

  “We did. If you continue up this valley, then branch to the right at a certain point, there’s a way over the mountains.”

  The news put Commander Duilo in good spirits. Clasping his hands behind his head and propping up his feet, he announced he was more than willing to provide the bread-mold elixir, along with a fresh horse and supplies for a return to the pass. “You can leave as soon it’s light enough to see your way,” he said. “But I can’t send any men. The Rovers have my troops tied up, and it’ll be four days before a new detachment arrives from headquarters.”

  After thanking the commander profusely, Teo was shown to a cot in a corner of the fort, where he removed his boots and settled in for a few hours of sleep. A headache pounded in his temples, and the bite on his shin hurt, but Teo was relieved to have already achieved so much in his mission to save Ana.

  However, when the camp physician arrived with the medicine, Teo was disappointed at his news. The frontier outpost had only two bottles of the precious stuff, and one was of doubtful value because it was beyond its normal shelf life. The doctor explained that the other bottle was from a more recent batch and would likely be sufficient. He handed Teo a wooden case containing the good and the questionable medicine, describing the dosages before he left.

  As Teo set the case under his cot, he found himself wishing he had something more reliable than a single bottle of the good medicine. You do, said a voice in his head. Teo chided himself for his lack of faith and prayed for Ana’s safety until his weariness finally overcame him.

  The next morning he left the fort an hour before sunrise with the vials of bread-mold elixir stowed in his saddlebag. Wisps of fog clung to the trees as Teo rode northwest. The overcast sky had lightened to a dull gray when he paused at a bend in the trail. Suddenly he heard a sound that sent ice water coursing through his veins.

  A man’s shout.

  Teo looked up to see a party of eight Rovers in the distance, mounted on horseback. For the briefest moment, everyone remained frozen. Then, with fierce expressions etched on their faces, the men raised their weapons and charged.

  To flee was useless. The Rovers would run him down. Teo knew he must use the element of surprise by standing and fighting. One thing was certain: he did not intend to die this day.

  Unlike his enemies, Teo had been anticipating danger, so his bow was already strung. He whipped an arrow from his quiver and loosed it at the lead rider, who took the hit in the body and tumbled from his horse. The Rovers had not expected Teo to sit calmly and aim from the saddle, and they certainly had not expected such superb accuracy at this range. He took down a second rider before the war party closed upon him. Now his bow was useless. It was time for the bite of steel. Teo drew his ax and sword, then kicked his horse’s flanks and leaped into the fray.

  With the thunder of churning hooves and wild war cries ringing in his ears, Teo galloped toward the oncoming riders. The trail wasn’t wide enough for them to fan out, so they had to follow each other in pairs. Two Rovers rode at the front, wearing fur-trimmed garments and iron helmets. Instead of crashing directly into his enemies, Teo slid his mount between them, his arms spread wide. As he swept past at full speed, the ax in his left hand parried a thunderous blow, while the sword in his right slashed a rider’s shoulder in a burst of crimson spray.

  No sooner had the men passed than the second pair of riders was on him. Teo dodged sharply left so only one rider could attack. The enemy swung his sword in a vicious arc as Teo galloped by. Teo’s weapons were out of position for a parry, so he leaned far out of his saddle. He felt the sword’s tip whiz past his head.

  The final two riders did not intend to let Teo escape. Their eyes were black and mean as they bore down on him. Before he could react or evade, the riders slammed into him. Teo felt the impact like a thousand clubs striking him at once. The horses screamed, and Teo was hurled from the saddle as his mount went down. His weapons were knocked from his hands as he cartwheeled across the rocky ground.

  Rolling to his feet, Teo had no time to pause for breath. He snatched his sword and ax, knowing his enemies were turning their horses in the narrow trail to make another charge.

  Though he would never have left the saddle intentionally, being unhorsed gave Teo one advantage: he could
weave through the underbrush, making it difficult for a rider to follow. He sprinted toward the forest and ducked into a thicket.

  Something flashed in Teo’s peripheral vision. He leaped out of the way as a heavy weapon split the air beside him. Teo spun to confront an enraged Rover rushing at him. The burly man had an arrow shaft protruding from his left shoulder, but his right arm held a massive club, and his face bore a look of incredible malice.

  Teo clicked a gemstone on the handle of his ax. The weapon was an ingenious gift from one of his former students back in Chiveis. The haft held cherry-sized metal balls that could be expelled into a cup at the ax’s end. A strong flicking motion would send the balls flying toward an opponent with greater force than a human arm alone could achieve.

  Growling, the Rover raised his club behind his head. Teo sent a ball flying toward his enemy. It bounced off a rib with a loud crack. The Rover’s face blanched and contorted into a grimace. He dropped his club and clutched his side, moaning and writhing. Teo disappeared into the brush.

  Mounted Rovers crashed through the forest as Teo dodged among the trees. He paused only to sheath his sword and tuck his ax into his belt before resuming his erratic course through the woods. Arriving at a river, he plunged into the water without stopping to catch his breath. He surfaced only once before reaching the far bank. His pursuers rode back and forth on the other side.

  One of the men spotted him and shouted, but Teo knew crossing the river on horseback would take a lot of effort. The Rovers had little reason to pursue him now that they had captured his saddlebag with whatever loot they thought might be inside. They began to disperse.

  Teo pounded his fist into his palm. Truth be told, there wasn’t any loot. He was only carrying soldiers’ rations and two bottles of the mysterious elixir that Ana desperately needed. She was dying at the top of a distant pass—and now he could do nothing to stop it.

  The situation infuriated him. As he knelt dripping in the forest while the Rovers left the riverbank, a deep indignation rose in his soul. Who do they think they are, attacking an innocent man without provocation and taking a sick woman’s medicine! Teo decided he would reclaim the medicine or die in the attempt. Death would be preferable to returning empty-handed, only to watch Ana’s life ebb away. A future without Ana would be unbearable.

  He recrossed the river and followed the Rovers’ tracks. The smell of wood smoke told him they had set up camp nearby to tend their injuries. He had drawn blood from at least three of them, and now they were licking their wounds.

  From the vantage point of an outcrop, Teo could see seven men around the campfire. One had removed his outer garment and was rubbing a salve into a deep slice on his right shoulder. Another applied cold water to his misshapen forearm, an injury no doubt sustained when his horse fell to the ground. The third wounded man, the big Rover whom Teo had met in the forest, was stanching the flow of blood from the arrow hole in his shoulder. An ugly red welt discolored his ribs. Four uninjured men were busy aiding their comrades, making a total of seven. It took Teo a moment to locate the eighth. He lay to the side of the camp with an arrow sticking out of his chest. A cloth was draped over his face.

  A short distance away seven horses were tied to the trees. Two others stood with a foreleg off the ground, one of which was Teo’s own mount. He spied his bow, quiver, and saddlebag lying with the rest of the men’s gear. The saddlebag’s buckles were still fastened, indicating nothing had been removed.

  Teo considered approaching with stealth but quickly decided it would be impossible to reach the gear without being seen, much less untie a horse and escape. It was time to act boldly. He took a deep breath and broke into a run.

  The Rovers shouted when they saw him, but Teo ignored them. He sprinted to his saddlebag and scooped it up, along with his bow and quiver. The uninjured men rose to give chase, but Teo was fast, and he soon outdistanced them. They were mounted fighters, not skilled woodsmen, and the forest was dense. Turning briefly, Teo loosed some arrows to force his pursuers to duck for cover, then resumed his sprint. When he paused to listen again, the sound of the Rovers had diminished. Evidently they had seen enough action for one day.

  Slowing to a jog, Teo maintained a steady pace for about an hour. At last he stopped at a stream and drank deeply, then dug a hunk of dried beef from the saddlebag. He was gratified to see that the case of medicine was still there.

  Teo slung the saddlebag over his shoulder and set off again. Though the high pass was thirty leagues away, he intended to go straight there. Teo resolved to run all day up the side of the mountain without stopping. It would be the longest, hardest run he had ever attempted, but he would do it. Ana needed him.

  By the time he reached the landmarks that signaled the turnoff toward the pass, a light rain had started to fall. Teo’s woolen cloak was rolled up with his bedding on his saddle, so he couldn’t add an outer layer to shed the water. The rain began to fall harder. Soon he was drenched to the skin.

  As the trail became steep, he began to feel the effects of the long-distance run. Though he was in good condition, the recent days had been arduous, and his body was reaching its outer limits. His thigh muscles burned, and his lungs seemed incapable of providing enough air. Teo’s gait became less efficient, which only made matters worse. The wolf bite to his shin started to hurt with a stabbing pain instead of a dull ache. A few times his vision began to swim. He shook his head and squinted to clear the blur. Every part of him wanted to stop and rest, but Teo refused to listen to his body’s demands. He had Ana’s life-giving elixir in his bag. The thought of her lying in bed with her life slipping away kept him running even when his body cried out for relief.

  A thunderstorm caught Teo as he emerged from the tree line. He knew it was dangerous to be in the high country with lightning flashing around, but there was no shelter nearby and he had no other choice. Deu, protect me, he prayed. Help me make it to the top! He glanced at the peaks far above, then immediately wished he hadn’t. It seemed he had just as far to go as when he first began to climb.

  Rain dripped from his hair and trickled beneath his jerkin. Water had long since soaked through the lacing of his boots, aggravating the blisters that had developed. At one point Teo stumbled and fell headlong in the muck. Dazed, he spat mud from his lips, then struggled to his feet and resumed his stride. Step-by-step he pressed upward.

  The trail followed the ancient roadbed, snaking back and forth across the flanks of the barren mountains. It seemed to have no end. The hours of running made Teo delirious. His mind was a fog, his thoughts jumbled and confused. It took all his mental effort just to keep moving. His legs were like leaden weights. His chest heaved. Twice he vomited along the trail.

  The rain ceased, and Teo stumbled on. The trail topped out. Bright light engulfed him, and he looked up. A brilliant sunbeam shone through a hole in the clouds. A stone cross illuminated by the sun’s rays stood on a rocky knoll. Just beyond the cross was the ancient inn where Ana lay waiting. Teo collapsed in the doorway as Bard rushed to his side.

  Ana woke to the sounds of men moving around her room. She tried to lift her head but couldn’t. Even her eyelids felt too heavy to lift. Her throat was parched. She swallowed, but it didn’t help. Despite the bearskin cloak on her bed, she was chilled.

  Ana was dying, and she knew it.

  “Help me get his boots off,” Lieutenant Celso barked.

  “I’m—I’m okay.”

  Ana’s heart skipped a beat. She knew that voice. Its familiar sound flooded her with relief and gave her the strength to open her eyes. Teo lay on the bed next to hers. He looked terrible. His clothes were filthy, and his face was pale. Even so, she was overjoyed to see him.

  “We need to take off these wet clothes and get some food in him,” Bard said.

  “Go make hot broth. I’ll take care of his clothing.”

  Bard left the room, and Ana rested on her pillow, listening to the sounds of Lieutenant Celso struggling with Teo’s garments. Teo tried
to speak, but his words were incoherent.

  One of the other soldiers entered the room. “I found it, sir!” The man was holding a wooden case.

  “Bring it here,” Lieutenant Celso ordered. He opened the case and removed two bottles. Turning to Teo, he slapped him lightly on the chin. “Can you hear me, soldier? Wake up.” He opened a canteen and splashed a little water on Teo’s face.

  “Huh? What? Huh?” Teo tried to sit up, but the lieutenant pressed him back into his bed.

  “Easy there, Teofil. I just need to know what to do with this medicine. How much do I give her?”

  Teo took a deep breath and lifted his head, staring the lieutenant in the eyes. “There’s a spoon in the box. One dose, morning, noon, night, until the bottle is empty.”

  “Then she’ll be well?”

  Teo nodded and sank back on the mattress.

  “It’s a good thing they sent two bottles,” Lieutenant Celso said. “That wolf bite of yours is infected too. You’re both going to need the elixir.”

  Ana glanced at Teo’s bare leg resting on the covers. An inflamed sore festered on his shin, with red streaks radiating from it. She remembered how he got that wound as he charged into the rock grotto to save her from the marauding wolves. Like he always does, she thought.

  Lieutenant Celso started to stand up with the two bottles, but Teo gripped his sleeve.

  “What is it, son?”

  Teo pulled him close and gestured to the bottles. “See the notch?”

  The lieutenant glanced at the bottles. “Carved into the cork?”

  “Right. Now listen to me.” Teo’s tone grew serious. “That one is Ana’s. Do you hear me? Give that one to her!”

  “Okay, but why?”

  “Swear to me!” Teo demanded with urgency in his voice.

  “I swear it, Teofil. The bottle with the notched cork goes to the lady. What’s the story?”

  Teo closed his eyes and swallowed. “The other bottle probably won’t work. It’s too old.”

  As Ana listened to Teo utter these words, alarm seized her. It won’t work? She was dumbfounded. What does he mean, ‘It won’t work’? Her clouded mind struggled to comprehend Teo’s statement.

 

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