Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  “Wow, remind me never to get you angry at me,” Aron said, climbing out of the wagon to look at the man.

  “That’s my sister,” James said proudly, climbing out after him. He then went to join the fray with an enthusiasm I would never understand.

  But before I could get back to Matthias, another knight approached me menacingly. Aron took one step, moving between me and the knight. A blow with his mighty fist in the knight’s face and the man was nearly unconscious on the ground.

  “And remind me never to get you angry with me,” I shot back at Aron with a giggle.

  “I could never hurt you. And I’ll never allow anyone else either,” he said, raising his hand toward my face. It looked for a moment as if he was going to caress my cheek. The warmth in his eyes sent flames into my stomach. At the last minute, though, he dropped his hand and turned away from me to deal with the knight who was trying to get back up. “Go on back to your brothers,” he said, ducking a blow from the knight. “I’ll be there when you call.”

  I couldn’t help the little sigh that came from my throat. I did as I was told, though, since I still had the other man and one last brother to free.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was as if God was smiling down on her, Nimuë thought as she drove toward the skirmish taking place in the middle of the road. Both Dylan and Sir Dagonet were engaged in a sword fight with two of her knights. The two girls were trying to take on another, and that other boy, whom she did not know, was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a fourth knight.

  And here she was with a wagon ready to take on more passengers and five more knights all around her, ready to guide those passengers right to her. She gave a laugh as she instructed the knight driving to barrel the wagon straight into the fray. He nearly ran over the girls, then pulled the wagon to a halt, but then just sat there twisted around in his seat to watch the fight.

  “Well? What are you waiting for? Those are the children…” She was rudely interrupted by the wagon bursting into flames.

  Bridget!

  Father du Lac dove out of the wagon faster than a man of his age should have been able to move. The strong gust of wind that followed not only put out the flames, but also helped to shove him even farther away.

  It was a good thing the knight who had been next to her had not jumped far, though. He was right there to calm the horses agitated by the sudden flames.

  Father du Lac picked himself up and brushed dirt and debris off his robes, while taking in the situation around him. Her eight knights against the four children and Sir Dagonet was not exactly a fair fight, but Nimuë could really care less about fair. She just wanted those children.

  She turned back toward the wagon to free up the last knight so he could join the fray and get those children shackled into the wagon quickly. She had not taken one step toward him, when Dylan and the knight he was fighting shifted so that they were directly in front of her. She stepped back to avoid the flying swords and began to edge around the two men.

  She was knocked into, and very nearly knocked over, by another one of her knights who was battling Sir Dagonet. She paused to watch even as she moved out of his way. The old knight was pretty good—fighting two of her knights at once and keeping up a witty banter in addition.

  “Must watch where you’re going, boy, wot, wot?” Sir Dagonet was saying. “Nearly ran into your superior there. Wouldn’t want to hurt the old geezer, now, would you?”

  “Look who is calling who an old geezer!” Father du Lac could not help but respond.

  “At least I’m still in good shape. Can’t even fall out of a burning wagon with grace anymore, old man, wot?”

  Nimuë could help but laugh at his taunts. She turned away to try once more to get back to the wagon. Finally, the way was clear. She had just started toward the knight holding the horses when something grabbed at the back of her robes and pulled sharply upward. Just as she was lifted, she was dropped again, her weight coming down on her feet so quickly she lost her balance.

  She spun around, looking up to see a hawk climbing into the sky, the sunlight making its striped gray and white wings nearly shimmer, but it was the cry of triumph from the bird that really made Nimue grind her teeth. Scai!

  Nimuë jumped to her feet and was about to join the girl in the sky, when the clang of swords connecting in battle stopped her. She was surrounded by her witch-hunting knights. She could not change form in front of them.

  “Father! Are you all right?” one of the knights called out to her, confirming the fact that they were most definitely watching her.

  Damn! She was trapped.

  She raised a hand to show that she was fine, and got to her feet. She started toward the wagon once again. But again, Scai swooped down, attacking her from above. This time Nimuë was ready. She ducked before the bird could grab on to her again. But Scai was an agile thing. She turned and headed right back to grab at her. Her talons scraped Father du Lac’s balding scalp before Nimue could get out of the way.

  Back and forth, she went, with Nimuë getting more and more angry and frustrated.

  “Duck!” one of the knights called out, taking two large steps toward her and swinging his huge sword directly where her head would have been if she had not had such quick reflexes.

  Unfortunately, Scai was faster. She swooped up higher into the air just in the nick of time.

  The knight swung his sword again and again even though the bird was not even within reach.

  Nimuë took the opportunity to move in the direction of the wagon just as one of the carpenters she had captured jumped out, a free man. He gave Bridget a pat on her back and looked around to join in the fray.

  Nimuë looked closer at the wagon. Only four men left! That girl had managed to free two of her brothers in a short time.

  Nimuë ducked as Scai came at her once again, but this time managed to come up next to one of the freed carpenters. He stuck out a leg to trip one of her knights from behind, but she tapped him on the shoulder. The man spun around, fist raised, ready to hit whoever had tapped him. He paused, giving her just enough time to say, “Go and stop your sister Bridget from freeing your brothers.”

  Her voice was leaden with enough magic to command ten men, but she could not take the risk that he would fight her suggestion.

  He lowered his fist and turned and walked over to the wagon just as the back of Nimuë’s collar was picked up, carried for a moment and then dropped five feet back from where she had been.

  Damn that girl! Nimuë was never going to make it back to the wagon.

  After a good fifteen minutes of trying unsuccessfully to either avoid Scai or get through the fighting, she finally grabbed one of her knights from a fight with Sir Dagonet and had him block off attacks from the sky and make way for her so that she could finally get back to the wagon.

  When she got there, rage exploded within her. She nearly dropped her disguise, she was so angry. There was one, only one carpenter and the snitch left in the wagon. That brother of Bridget’s had somehow been stopped. She turned to the idiot holding the horses’ heads. He was doing nothing but standing there watching the fight and absently patting the horses.

  Father du Lac strode up to the knight. “And what do you think you are doing?” he growled.

  “Father?” the man asked, straightening up.

  “That girl has freed nearly all of our captives!”

  The man’s head spun around toward the back of the wagon. His jaw dropped as he took in the sight of the two men left and Bridget sitting where not too long ago there had been six men. “I-I-I wasn’t watching,” he admitted.

  “Well, get over there and stop her. Now!”

  The man did as he was told, grabbing onto the back of Bridget’s collar and yanking her out of the wagon. The girl was a fierce one, though, and dropped the knight in two swift blows.

  This fight did not look as if it was going to turn in her favor. Nimuë jumped into the wagon and whipped the horses into motion.

&nb
sp; There was a scream, followed by shouts from the two men left in the wagon.

  How could those four children and Sir Dagonet so completely route nine knights? It just did not make any sense. Her men were such complete idiots that they were not able to take care of such a simple task.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aron was once again fending off the knights when, with a jolt, the wagon began to move. Before I could stop myself I was thrown out the back of the wagon as it took off down the road toward Saerdbury.

  “Matthias!”

  “Bridget!” Both Matthias and the other fellow called at the same time.

  “Stop! Stop!” Aron’s voice boomed.

  It did nothing. The wagon continued on.

  I pulled as much magic together as I could and threw out my hand. “Stop!” I shouted.

  Nothing happened.

  “Damn it, Bridget! Damn you for being so slow!” Matthias’s voice faded as the wagon sped away from us. I could just make out his curses as I picked myself up off the ground with Aron’s help.

  A freezing cold shot through me and I couldn’t stop the explosion of tears that came from me. I couldn’t stop the wagon. I couldn’t freeze it.

  I was too tired and didn’t have enough energy—or it wouldn’t work on horses heading away from me? I didn’t know.

  Aron pulled me to him, his chest strong, his muscles hard, his body warm and comforting in the ice of my despair. “That old priest was Nimuë, wasn’t it?” Aron said, his deep voice vibrating into my ear through his chest.

  “Y-Yes, and I did-didn’t think about her.” I hiccoughed, shivering even within his warmth.

  “She was watching the fight, I suppose?” Aron asked, rubbing his hands up and down my back.

  “I don’t know. I asked Scai to take care of her, but that’s like asking a rabbit to watch a fox. And I wasn’t paying any attention.”

  A notion struck me—maybe I could go after her. Maybe I could catch up with the wagon… and what? I took a deep shuddering breath. If I went after them, I’d be doing the same thing Dylan had nearly done to us on Avalon—abandoning the group to go haring off on my own to be the hero. Not only was that incredibly stupid, but it was doomed to failure. I wasn’t strong enough to fight Nimuë on my own, just as Dylan wasn’t. It would take the three of us to defeat her. The prophecy had said so.

  No, I had to think this through and work with the others. It was the only way—no matter how much I hated just standing here while the most evil person in existence took my brother away.

  I pulled away from Aron, missing his warmth and comfort the moment I did so.

  Together, we turned to watch the fighting. It didn’t seem as if any of the knights had noticed that the wagon had gone.

  Dylan was still in a furious fight with his foster brother and seemed to be getting the better of him. He was advancing closer and closer to where Aron and I stood. His eyes flicked over to us. They widened in shock as he took in the fact that the wagon was no longer there.

  “She’s gone,” I called out with what strength I could muster. “With Matthias!”

  Patric spun around. “Who’s gone?”

  “Nimuë?” Dylan asked, lowering his sword.

  “Nimuë?” Patric repeated, not knowing who we were talking about.

  “Father du Lac is the Lady Nimuë,” Dylan explained.

  “Not the Lady Nimuë,” Patric turned toward his brother. “The sister of Lady Morgan le Fey?”

  “Yes, that one,” Dylan said, unsure whether to raise his sword again or not.

  “I’ve been working for Lady Nimuë?” His brother was incredulous and clearly wasn’t about to restart the fight.

  “You didn’t know?” Dylan asked.

  “No!” Patric burst out laughing. “Why is she collecting Vallen?”

  “We don’t know,” I answered. “But we do know that she wants to become the most powerful Vallen ever.”

  “So, will you join us in fighting her?” Dylan asked his foster brother.

  “What? No! If she’s going to become that powerful I’ll stick with her. Only an idiot wouldn’t.” He gave Dylan a smirk before giving a loud whistle.

  Everyone stopped fighting to look over toward him.

  “Father du Lac has gone. We ride after him,” Patric shouted, his voice deep and commanding.

  The knights still able to stand and move did so. There were two who were down and looked like they were going to stay that way. The others all mounted their horses and took off after the wagon.

  “Nimuë’s taken Matthias with her,” I called out to my brothers when the knights had gone. It took all of my self-restraint not to burst into tears again.

  “What?”

  “How could that be?” were the cries of outrage from everyone.

  Thomas stumbled over, his hand to his head. “What’s happened?”

  “Thomas! Oh, goodness, I’d forgotten about you,” I cried, rushing over to him. “Are you all right?”

  “I think so. What happened? One minute I was fighting Nimuë’s suggestion that I stop you, the next you’re crying in Aron’s arms.”

  I shot Aron an embarrassed glance feeling my cheeks burn.

  “Bridget froze you,” James explained.

  “It was the only way to stop you from stopping her,” Peter said.

  Thomas cocked his head at me. “You can freeze people?”

  I just shrugged. “It’s something new I just learned I could do. Sorry. It was the only way to stop you.”

  “It’s okay.” Thomas gave my back a pat. “I understand. But… where’s Matthias?”

  “Still in the wagon.” I nearly started crying again. “I didn’t get him out before Nimuë drove off.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t get him out,” Piers said.

  “Yeah, Bridget,” Peter started.

  Aron stepped forward. “She—”

  “Aron,” Sir Dagonet interrupted. “Could I have a word?” Sir Dagonet said, striding forward and putting a hand on Aron’s shoulder. He led him off to the side.

  I could have used Aron’s support just then. What could Sir Dagonet have to say to him just now that was so important? I watched them talking for a moment, but I knew I had to deal with my brothers.

  I took a deep breath and lifted my chin, knowing full well that I deserved their anger. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t strong enough. Or fast enough. I take full blame, but we are going to get him back; the question is how.”

  “Let’s go after them. Right now, before they get too far ahead of us,” Peter said, moving forward.

  Everyone immediate turned in the direction the wagon had gone, but I called out, “They’re already long gone. We’ve got to think this through. We can’t just go running after them.” Cold settled more deeply into my bones.

  “Quite right, quite right!” Sir Dagonet agreed, coming back and giving me an encouraging smile. “We’ll do better to plan a strategy and do this the right way.”

  Hardly anyone liked this idea much, but they all agreed it was probably the right one. Besides which, my brothers had no way of going after them except on foot. I didn’t point this out.

  I didn’t know why I was feeling so cold, but I managed to dredge up a little magic to heat my hands and rub them up and down my arms.

  “And I’ll finally get to finish Patric,” Dylan added more quietly.

  I heard him, though. The thought of brother fighting against brother was all that was needed to stir up the embers of my fire. “How can you say that? How can you feel that way? I know he’s not your brother by blood, but you grew up with him. How can you hate him so much?” I was practically yelling by the time I finished. I knew it was because I was so upset about Matthias, but I just couldn’t help myself. My anger had spiked and I was having a hard time reining it in.

  “You are in no position to judge me, Bridget,” Dylan snapped back. “Just because you and your brothers are close doesn’t mean that every family is.
If you had grown up with your brother constantly attacking you, you would feel exactly the same way.”

  “My brothers weren’t perfect, but I forgive them their faults. It’s called being a family. Loving your siblings.”

  “Bridget! That’s enough,” Thomas said, raising his voice just enough to break through the haze of heat in my mind. “Dylan is right. You cannot judge him in that way. It’s not your place to do so. You know that,” he added in his gentle, calming voice.

  I nearly turned on him for using his magic on me, but an annoying voice in the back of my mind stopped me, telling me that he was right. I hated that voice and it was becoming stronger every day. Instead, I swung around and stomped off to find my and Scai’s horse.

  “We have something very special in our family,” I heard James explain. “Please don’t be angry with Bridget, Dylan, she’s young and doesn’t understand.”

  I couldn’t resist. I turned back around. “I’m not that young. And I do understand.” I then did the right thing, clamped my mouth shut and turned back to Dylan. Taking a deep breath, I said in a much more gentle voice, “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Dylan. Thomas is right. I don’t have the right to judge you. Honestly, I’m just really upset that I wasn’t able to free Matthias in time. I’m sorry.” I quickly turned away again before anyone saw the tears of embarrassment in my eyes.

  I was about to walk away again, when a hand gently touched my shoulder, stopping me. “I know. We all know. And you have to remember that it wasn’t your fault. You were doing the best you could. We’ll get him back.” The softness of Dylan’s words and his voice made me wonder how I could have ever been angry with him. This time I knew for certain that he was using his magic to help me control my emotions and I appreciated it. I started to blink back tears again, when he gave my shoulder another squeeze and the lump in my throat and the knot in my stomach both melted away. I gave him a grateful smile.

  “So, what do we do now?” Scai asked, looking around in the hopes of an answer.