by LeRoy Clary
Gareth did much the same. He laid down on his back and closed his eyes, but did not sleep. He let his mind listen to the chatter of thought as he tried to eliminate all but those thoughts from the people nearest to them. There was at least a hundred. He reached out to each, slowly and carefully. A single gentle touch followed by another more demanding until the person was eliminated as the one he sought.
More than fifty had been carefully investigated and eliminated before he located the right one. Gareth pulled back and considered his next move. Gareth’s next mental touch was warm, just the brush of a butterfly wing on a babe’s cheek while gathering impressions. He didn’t dare go deeper and examine any thoughts or feelings.
The fleeting impressions told him it was the mind of a young boy. An untrained mind, but one similar to his abilities. In that mind, thoughts scattered like a flock of birds after a cat pounces. But he found a few constants, too. The boy behind the thoughts was often hungry. Not the general hunger of all growing boys, but the hunger that comes with often missed meals over days and days.
The boy was also angry, lonely, and scared. Another, a stronger mind, controlled the boy’s actions. He didn’t like it but was forced to do things he didn’t want to do. The boy was scared of the other mind and what it did to those who didn’t obey it.
Gareth allowed a tendril of softness to penetrate the mind while he managed to a glimpse through his eyes. The boy was perched on the side of a hill overlooking a section of the road outside a village. His job was to remain there and touch the minds of all who traveled the road until he located Gareth.
Opening his eyes, he said to Ann, “I think our task is about to get harder. How much of that medicine for calming Tad do you have?”
“Enough for a few days.”
“So, what if there were two of him?”
“A day, maybe a little more. But it is a common herb, and I’m certain I can locate more.”
“Begin looking. The mind we felt earlier is very close. I think that I know exactly where.”
“What are you planning to do, Gareth?”
“We need information about who killed my father. I have no doubt that it was the insane voice that controls the one watching the road ahead. We don’t have one person with the same powers as I have, we have at least two, and I suspect three.”
Ann furrowed her brows and leaned closer. “You’re planning to capture him, not kill him.”
“The second voice, yes. His mind is strong but sane. He’s just scared. A frightened little boy being bullied by one stronger.”
“Consider killing him. That resolves one-fourth of your problem.”
“I cannot do that.”
She stood and paced the clearing from one end to the other and back. She returned to face him. “No, I suppose you can’t. But I can. This is my offer. We will attempt to capture this ‘innocent’ boy. If I believe at any time that you or Tad is in danger, I will take his life then and there. I will not ask permission or discuss it with you.”
There appeared to be no give in her decision. Gareth nodded his agreement to her terms. “He is watching from the other side of this hill,” he motioned with his hand. “He has been there for days and is bored, hungry, and tired.”
“Which of those traits are you going to exploit?”
“Tired, I think. Bored and tired sort of go together. I think he may wish to take a nap.”
Ann said, “He may want to drink my potion before he fully wakes. I can help with that.”
“Gather what we take with us, and keep Tad’s mind still. We’ll all go up this side of the hill, and when I get a look at the road, I think I can estimate where we will need to go.”
“Are you going to calm his mind as we move?”
Gareth said, “Yes, calm him and slowly block his ability to hear others with his mind. Only a little at a time until he is deaf to the mental world.”
“You can do that?”
A glance at Tad. “Very similar to how I squelch his thoughts from escaping. I have to do it carefully, or he will detect me and come alert, but after a certain point, I believe I will control more of his mind than he does.”
Ann said, “I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Me neither. But it appears that is what’s happening with this other mind, the evil one. It is controlling the mind of this boy, preventing him from sleeping or eating while he sits on watch.”
They moved up the slope without a lot of talking. Gareth kept a slight mental touch on the boy, reinforcing the idea of sleep. At the same time, he blanketed his thoughts from reaching out, hoping he could also prevent thoughts from others from entering, but he’d never tried that.
At the crest of the hill they paused. The road wound below, following the course of a wide stream. A small village lay beyond. The place provided an excellent view of the road. Gareth compared what he saw it to what he had seen in the boy’s eyes. Then he pointed, certain of the location where the boy watched from.
A mental touch assured him the boy was sitting on pine needles, but his eyes were closed. Gareth lightly suggested he lay down, but the boy remained seated, trying to do his duty. Twice more Gareth made the suggestion as they moved closer, each time a little more insistent.
The boy finally slumped and curled into a sleeping position, knees pulled to his chin as he lay on his side. They were close, slightly above the boy on the slope, perhaps a hundred steps away. Gareth motioned for Ann to stop.
He reached out with a stronger tendril seeking a better grip and closed the boy’s ears as well as his mental ‘hearing’. Once satisfied that the boy was all but unconscious, and his mind closed to intrusion he said, “Let’s go.”
They saw the boy long before they reached him. Ann went first, leaving Tad with Gareth behind as she quickly poured her potion into his mouth while Gareth kept him still and uncaring. Shortly after, Gareth felt the medication taking effect as the little slice of the mind that he monitored relaxed and dulled.
Gareth led Tad to the boy’s side. He was older than Tad by a few years, but not many. His clothing was tattered and filthy. His thin, filthy body told of missed meals and his greasy hair hung as if it had not been washed in a full lunar. In all, what Gareth observed was a wild boy, a child who was raised far from civilization without the benefit of an adult. Or one held from normal routines for days on end.
A single glance at Ann confirmed his suspicions. Twin tracks of tears leaked from her eyes. She said, “This is the monster we feared?”
“No. This boy is just a tool for the monster to use,” Gareth said.
“What in the six god’s names are we going to do with him?”
“Take him with us,” Gareth told her, leaving no room for doubt.
She scooped him into her arms, then cast a look at Gareth. “Stinks.”
Several of the many sores on his skin oozed yellow. A cut on his foot looked red and infected. Gareth lifted one hand and pulled the barb of a sticker from the palm. He held the fingers, one of which stuck out at an angle. “Broken.”
Ann said, jutting her chin away from the road, “Back to the top of the hill and down the other side, but bear to the right as we go down. We’ll come to a small river. I don’t think there are any farms or people living nearby. We’ll spend the night there.”
“This boy needs more than one night of healing,” Gareth said. “But we can spare the last of today as long as we’re moving again at first light. We need to get past any roadblocks the army has, and we need to do it before they release the Brotherhood to help guard the roads.”
She nodded and said, “I can carry him for a while. Then you’ll have to do it, and I’ll take Tad.”
While moving, Gareth opened his mind, filtering any voices he heard that were not close. He eliminated the few he found, most of which were either on or near the road. Then, as he was about to take the small boy from Ann, another voice sounded in the depths of his mind. It was intense. Angry. It was seeking out the boy Ann had drugged, deman
ding the boy respond and threatening consequences if he did not. When it couldn’t locate him, the voice grew more impatient and threatening, then instantly it turned to pure hatred. The air almost scorched at the violence and venom that filled it.
Ann’s expression turned fearful. She said, “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I have never ‘heard’ anything like that in my mind before and always wondered what it is like for those of you who use mind talk. It that’s a sample, I never want to experience it again.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As Ann predicted, they found the small river crossing the path they followed. Gareth used his mind to ensure there were no other people in the immediate area, then he placed the boy on the grass in a small meadow and stepped back. He looked up at the sky between the treetops and found plenty of light left in the day. He looked at Ann.
Tad was still awake and had asked about the boy they carried several times. Gareth had not told him much, preferring to wait until there was time to explain all of it. He wouldn’t hold back. Each glance at the boy in his arms confused and enraged him to greater heights. The stench from him came not only from the dirt but from the abscesses and the scent of illness reeked.
“What’s first?” Gareth asked Ann.
She dug into her backpack and pulled out items, tossing them on the grass one at a time, as if she found small treasures. A sliver of soap, a pouch of dried medications, and a small knife. She turned to Tad. “I need some clothes.”
She hadn’t asked, she simply assumed he would share. Tad stood aside as she pulled a pair of pants, too small, from his pack and a shirt. The boy wore no shoes. She shrugged at Gareth. “Can you keep his mind silent while I begin?”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to the river while you make a fire. We’ll need it to dry us when we’re done.”
Again she didn’t ask. She ordered in the manner of all mothers in urgent times. She gathered her things and scooped the boy into her arms, her hands full of items. One glance at Gareth told him to get busy gathering firewood and start the fire. Now.
“Tad, gather some wood.” While he moved slowly, the boy managed to have an armful ready when Gareth managed to get the tinder lighted. Then another. Gareth allowed the fire to burn while he helped with the firewood. Gathering it before dark was much easier than after.
Yet, he resented the daylight they wasted. The King would strike a deal with the Brotherhood sooner or later. Being beyond their control would make travel much easier. When he had gathered enough wood, he sat and watched the fire, lost in the flickering flames. Tad sat beside him and dozed, his head resting on Gareth’s lap. Then he fell asleep, and Gareth covered him with his favorite blanket brought with him from Bitters Island.
The ship that would carry his family to safety should have arrived at the island today, tomorrow at the latest. He imagined the fear and excitement. The grandchildren would look forward to the voyage, their first. Those older would dread leaving the peaceful lives they had all enjoyed for almost thirty years.
He wished he could be with them. Especially, Sara. He was gone only a few days and already he missed her to a degree most couldn’t understand. Her easy manner and soft talks reduced complicated subjects to easily understood segments. He wished for her council now.
She didn’t fight against the world and the happenings, she accepted and made the best of each situation. He had tried to learn from her over the years, and he supposed he had learned a little, but not to the extent needed. His first reaction was to solve a problem; not live with it the best way he knew how.
He reached out with his mind and touched Blackie for assurance. All was as well as it could be. The squelch maintained over Tad was intact. The one over the boy was harder since he didn’t know the mind, but the medication controlled most of it. The thinking of so many different things at the same time taxed him. As long as he didn’t add another to the list, he should be fine.
But he reached out and listened to those minds closest to him. He heard Ann’s of course, worried and concerned about how to heal the boy she washed. He quickly moved on, trying to ignore minds on the coast and behind them. He rejected many he determined to either side, although he had no method of determining where the person was except for listening for clues. Farmers were concerned with their animals, their feed or safety. Tradesmen concerned themselves with their products, how to make more or improve their lots.
Soldiers minds were different and immediately recognizable. They were thinking of boredom, poor food, thick women, gambling, and fear. Always fear. Soldiers, oddly enough, do not enjoy fighting in battles where too many are killed or maimed. They would all fight if required, but most secretly wished to never face another army.
Gareth used his mind to seek out those of the soldiers. He determined some were at the gates of Freeport and dismissed them. He found others on the road they had traveled, setting up new camps and additional blockades. He found others that were positioned ahead, and those drew his attention, now. He guessed at their locations and made a mental map of how to circle around them.
Sara said, kneeling at his side with the boy in her arms, “I did what I could.”
The boy looked six, but Gareth believed him to be at least ten. He touched the boy’s mind and found him in a stupor, but somewhat alert and very scared. The cold water of the river had been a shock as if he hadn’t been in cold water before, which may have been true. From the condition of his skin and the filth crusted on it, if he had ever been in water it had been long ago.
But the fear in his mind was nothing new. It had existed years. It expected to be punished. It waited for it, knowing it was coming and that there was nothing to stop it.
Digging deeper, Gareth found a mind stunted and scared, wanting affection so intensely that it accepted pain as a substitute. If nothing else, the giver of the pain was also giving him attention—something the small mind craved.
But it was what he didn’t find that concerned Gareth. He located no remorse, no shame or regret. No empathy for others, people or animals. No, that was not correct. It was there but buried. Hidden. Withheld from the insane, evil mind.
Gareth mentally pulled back and said, “He looks much better.”
The hair that had hung in greasy coils had been cut to the length of a finger, all around the head. The skin of his face and neck glowed pink, the lesions each had a dab of medicine. Ann had scrubbed the green off his teeth. Tad’s clothing almost fit. To a stranger, he appeared a normal little boy of six or seven, the same age as Tad.
“I cannot see where he has been physically abused or beaten, just neglected,” Ann said.
“Cleaning him up didn’t change who he is.”
“Of course not. He’s a child who needs adults to teach him. I have no children of my own . . .”
“Don’t even think that, Ann. This is not a child to make your own. This is a dangerous creature that we should have destroyed at the beginning while we had the chance.”
“How can you say that?”
“I just examined his mind.” Gareth tossed more wood on the fire and tried to think of his next words before allowing them to pass his lips. “He has the power to kill with his mind-touch. Worse, he has already helped do it.”
Ann had an arm wrapped around his shoulders protectively. “Just a boy. I can teach him.”
Shaking his head, Gareth said, “If he wants a bowl of pudding to eat and you refuse he may take control of your mind and slay you for such a minor disagreement. Or he may punish you with pain more intense than a whipping from the King’s persecutor in the deepest dungeon. May is not the word I should have used. I should have said will because he will do it. That’s what he’s been taught to do if another does not give him what he wishes.”
“Everyone deserves a chance,” Ann cooed, snuggling the boy closer.
“You say that because you’re a good person. But your motherly feelings are dangerous. With your permission, can I enter
his mind and relay to you what is there into your mind?”
She turned to him, a concerned expression taking over. “Will it hurt?”
“In a sense. His mind is numbed from the medication you gave him, but a touch of what is inside his head is necessary for you to understand what we are dealing with or it may become dangerous. The Sisterhood is comprised of women who are empathetic and trusting. That is both a blessing and a curse.”
“You’re rambling, Gareth.”
“I know. But you, not understanding what we are dealing with could cause my death, or the death of my grandson, as well as your own. You need to know what this boy is. You must know.”
“Very well, but I warn you that I see a helpless child and don’t believe you will change my opinion.”
Gareth touched the mind of the boy, found memories of a farmer he had encountered that offered a roof and meals in return for help with his harvest three days earlier. Later that same day the boy left the farmer lying dead on the road. The house and barn burned behind him, the animals locked behind the doors of the barn, crying out in terror and pain. The boy giggled as he walked and ate, the voice of the evil one pushing him on.
As Gareth uncovered each memory he transmitted it to Ann. Turning, Gareth looked at her sitting with the boy in her lap. Gareth had purposefully edited the memories to exclude most of the horror and gory details, but a single glance at her expression and he knew that even less would have been better.
She suddenly pushed the boy away, as if afraid to touch him. His limp body rolled across the ground with the violence of her shove. She stood up and backed two steps, her frightened eyes locked on the small form lying on the grass sleeping.
Her hands went to her face, and she sobbed as she slumped back to the ground. She averted her eyes and refused to turn to the boy. Gareth wondered if he had done the right thing, but also knew it had been necessary. Her potential attachment had to be prevented before there were feelings for him. She had to understand, but Gareth felt no better.