“We’re slowing her down,” she said. “Maybe we should let her go after Geoff by herself.”
Sawyer looked in the direction in which Ariel had run and shook his head. “We shouldn’t split up,” he said. “Didn’t Geoff say something like that when we first arrived here?”
“I guess. I don’t remember,” said Jane. “But Ariel keeps taking off on her own and scouting or whatever. Let’s just let her go get Geoff.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” said Sawyer. “But she keeps coming back. I think she’s doing all she can. I say we do as she tells us.”
“All right,” she said. “It’s just a suggestion anyway. Ariel knows what she’s doing.”
“You know, it’s funny,” said Sawyer. “At football practice I run circles around everyone. No problem. We come here and I can’t even keep up with an elf girl. Hey, aren’t elves supposed to be good at baking cookies and stuff? Mom used to buy that brand in the store.”
Jane laughed.
“Jane, do you think they put Geoff in that cage?” said Sawyer, gesturing toward the wagon.
She looked at the crude cast iron cage sitting in the back of the old wagon. “Probably,” she said. “I hope he’s okay.”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “Me too. If he isn’t, I have no idea what we’re gonna say to his dad and stepmom.”
The mention of Geoff’s stepmother made Jane cringe. Geoff’s stepmother was such a mean, rude woman. How could Mr. Vincent marry her? He’s always nice and compassionate.
“She would probably have us arrested,” said Jane. “His dad is really cool. He would understand, I think.”
“When Ariel gets back we’ll—” Jane was interrupted by a loud snap of a twig in the bushes behind her.
She whirled about and Sawyer jumped to his feet, drawing his sword. Neither made a sound for at least a minute. They listened and watched the bushes for movement. They heard another snap. This one was closer, but quieter than the first.
“Is that Ariel?” asked Jane in a hushed voice.
“No way,” said Sawyer. “She never makes that much noise.”
As Jane listened she became more aware of something approaching them, and that something was making an attempt to be as noiseless as possible.
“Who’s there?” shouted Sawyer.
Jane was breathing fast. She backed away from the bushes until she was standing beside Sawyer. Jane noticed his front leg quivered a little. She looked about for a weapon. Finding none, she picked up a rock and readied herself.
“Who’s there, I said!”
There was a cough from the bushes and then a figure appeared. It was an older man, middle-aged by Jane’s best guess. He was pudgy, had a slight limp, and was slouched over. He wore no armor and his clothes were dirty and patched. His black and silvery hair was unkempt and matted, his face was round and his nose was a scarred, bulbous mass. His chin bristled with gray whiskers of various lengths. He breathed heavily through his mouth, which was missing some teeth. Those that remained were yellow and gray, turning black near the gums. He was in dire need of a bath, too.
The foul, smelly man took a step forward. Sawyer responded by raising his sword so it pointed at his chest while Jane cocked her arm and prepared to throw the stone. The man stopped and looked at them with his beady, mole-like eyes.
“Ye be in my camp,” he said between wheezes. “Think ye can rob ol’ Bleet an’ get ’way with it?” He drew a rusted sword from his belt.
“Ye’ll be sorry fer that. Oh yes, ye will.”
“Stay away, old man,” said Sawyer. “We aren’t here to rob you and I don’t want to hurt you.”
The old man smiled, revealing several gaps in his yellow teeth. “Aye, maybe so. Maybe so. But I wanna hurt you. I like that sword ye be pointin’ at me. Yes, I like it very much.”
“We aren’t trying to rob you,” said Jane. “We’re looking for our friend.”
“Ah, ye be needin’ a friend, eh? Well jest set right there an’ ol’ Bleet’ll be with ya in a minute.” The smelly old man grinned at Jane and licked his cracked lips.
“Ewwww. Gross,” said Jane.
“Hey,” said Sawyer. “Look at me. Where’s our friend?”
The old man feinted a lunge at Sawyer, who stepped back.
“Dunno what ye mean,” said Bleet. “Jest gimme that sword an’ leave the girl then ol’ Bleet’ll let ya live, eh?”
“Get behind me, Jane,” said Sawyer. “Get way back.”
Jane stepped back another ten feet, keeping her arm raised and ready to throw the stone she had picked up.
“Ye think that’ll save ’er, boy?” Bleet feinted again, this time to Sawyer’s right.
“Sawyer! Be careful!” said Jane.
Sawyer appeared to remember Ariel’s lessons. He maintained his balance, which he rarely did with Ariel, and kept the point of his sword pointed at his foe.
“I got this,” he said.
“What ye got, boy?” said Bleet. “Ye think ye’ll get the better of ol’ Bleet?”
“I think ol’ Bleet is about to have a bad day,” said Sawyer. “From the looks of it, he’s had a lot.”
Jane looked at Bleet and then at Sawyer. The uncouth old man continued to feint, observing Sawyer’s reaction each time. He’s crafty; he’s testing Sawyer, thought Jane. She threw her stone at Bleet, but he simply ducked his head and let it fly by.
“Now, now,” said Bleet. “That’s cheatin’, it is. Ye shouldn’t be throwin’ nothin’ at ol’ Bleet.”
Jane quickly found another stone. “Sawyer, he’s dangerous!”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “I know, I know.”
Jane noticed Sawyer never took his eyes off the old man, another one of Ariel’s lessons. Suddenly, Bleet thrust at Sawyer’s midsection with his sword. Sawyer sidestepped the attack and parried Bleet’s spinning backswing, which was the real attack.
“Ahhh, so ya know a lil somethin’ ’bout swords, do ye?” said Bleet. “Been a long time since I ’ad this much fun.”
Sawyer slashed with his sword, then followed with a thrust of his own. Bleet easily dodged both attacks and laughed. Jane noted the old man was no longer limping as he and Sawyer circled each other in the center of the camp.
Jane cocked her arm and readied another stone. This time the old man noticed from the corner of his eye and pointed at her. “Oh no ye don’t,” he growled. “This’s a fight between two gentlemen, eh boy? That’s what we are, two gentlemen. Right?”
Jane threw her stone as hard as she could. It struck Bleet just above his left eye.
“Ow, girl! I done told ya…,” said Bleet as he staggered and collapsed.
Sawyer lowered his sword and looked at Jane. “What’re you doing?” he said. “Thanks, but I had him.”
Sawyer walked over to the prone figure and bent over to pick up his sword.
“Sawyer! No!” called Jane, but she was too late. Bleet suddenly swept Sawyer’s legs out from under him with a hard kick. Sawyer landed with a heavy thud, but he kept his grip on his sword. In an instant Bleet was on top of him, smiling and drooling through the gaps in his yellow teeth.
“So ye think ye had ol’ Bleet, eh?”
Jane watched as Sawyer tried to raise his sword, but the old man pinned his arm to the ground and forced Sawyer to release it. Sawyer struggled to get up, but the old man was much stronger than he looked.
“Now it’s all o’er for ye. Oh yes, tha’ll be truth, boy.” Bleet pulled a knife from his belt. He licked the blade. “I’ma stick ye real good, yes I am, and watch—”
Whack.
Jane had found a stout branch and hit Bleet on the back of his head as hard as she could. Bleet’s eyes widened and then rolled up in his head. He slumped forward. Sawyer extended his arms to prevent Bleet from l
anding on him.
“Sawyer, are you okay?” said Jane. “Is he…is he…”
“Oh man, this guy is heavy,” said Sawyer. Jane dropped the old branch she had used to club Bleet and helped Sawyer free himself.
As she helped Sawyer to his feet she noticed his face was red and he didn’t make eye contact with her.
“Thanks,” he said. “Like I said, I had him. Easy. We need something to tie this ugly perv up with.”
“I just saw some rope in the wagon,” said Jane.
“Perfect,” said Sawyer. He put the point of his sword on Bleet’s grungy neck. Jane got the rope and returned.
“Sawyer,” she said, observing where he held his sword, “you aren’t going to kill him, are you?”
“Nah,” said Sawyer. “We need to make this grubby dude talk. Tell us what happened to Geoff. Let me have that rope, Jane.”
Jane was relieved that Sawyer had no intention of murdering the old man. She looked at Bleet as Sawyer bound his hands and feet. She pinched her nose and took a couple of steps back. “Ugh! He really stinks, Sawyer.”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer. “He probably hasn’t had a bath in weeks.”
“More like years!” Jane said. “Ugh! I bet he has lice and fleas too.”
Sawyer finished tying Bleet and sat him against a wagon wheel.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” said Jane. She was still holding her nose. Sawyer snickered and sat on the nearest rock, keeping his sword ready. Jane studied Bleet from a distance. He’s horrible! Just horrible, she thought. Then an alarming thought occurred to her.
“Oh wait!” said Jane, looking around. “There might be more like him!”
Sawyer stood and looked around. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Let’s hope Ariel gets back before they do.”
Jane picked up her makeshift club and stood guard on the other side of the camp while Sawyer kept an eye on Bleet. She hoped Ariel would return soon. Bleet was a handful for them, but Ariel would’ve made short work of him.
Another ten minutes passed and Jane started to worry. She expected Ariel to have returned much sooner. She set her club down and wrung her hands as she turned completely around, looking for Ariel.
“’Ey boy. Gimme some water, ’kay?” said Bleet. He licked his lips. “Ye bashed my noggin good, girl. Ye didn’ ’ave to hit me so hard.”
“I’m not getting you water,” said Sawyer.
“The only water you need is for a bath,” said Jane.
“Aww, ye wouldn’t let an old man be thirsty, would ye? Now be a nice girl an’ fetch ol’ Bleet some water.”
“Hell no,” said Jane. “I’m not getting near you.”
“That’s jest downright cruel, that is,” said Bleet. “Ye captured me fair. I be your prisoner now an’ I need a bit o’ cool water for my parched throat.”
“All right, all right,” said Sawyer. “Just shut up. I’ll get you some water. Keep an eye on him, Jane.”
“Aye,” said Bleet, grinning at Jane. “I like ye lookin’ at ol’ Bleet, girl. Makes me feel wanted.”
Jane winced. “Eww! You’re just a dirty old toad. Stop talking before we do something bad to you.”
“Somethin’ bad? To poor ol’ Bleet? Now, now. That’s not very nice, is it?”
Sawyer had poured some of his water into a broken clay cup he found by the wagon. He walked over to their prisoner and bent over to let him drink. As he did so, the old man produced a knife he had hidden beneath his jerkin and put it against Sawyer’s throat.
“Sawyer!” shouted Jane, picking up her club.
“Easy there, girl. Ye don’ want me to filet yer boyfriend, do ya?”
“Let him go!” said Jane. She gripped her club with both hands and prepared to swing.
“Jest as soon as he unties ol’ Bleet. Then I’ll—”
A scimitar appeared from nowhere and brushed firmly against Bleet’s throat. Bleet’s eyes opened wide at the sudden occurrence.
“She said let him go,” said Ariel. She placed a point under Bleet’s chin and raised it, forcing him to look up at her.
“Aagh! Okay, okay!” Bleet dropped his knife and released Sawyer, who immediately stepped back and raised his sword.
“’Ey! Ye be an elf!” said Bleet.
“So?” said Ariel.
“We ’ad one an…an…” Bleet realized what he was saying.
“And?” asked Ariel, applying more pressure with her scimitar.
“Ow! An’ she run off, she did. She run off with that lil hedge wizard Rolf and Cedric brought back.”
“You mean the boy?” asked Ariel.
“Aye, aye. The skinny lil yellow haired runt. Oh, but I didn’ do nothin’ to ’im, ye see. Ol’ Bleet liked ’im, that’s true. Ol’ Bleet didn’ harm the boy. Was Aiden who…” Bleet let his words trail off.
“What happened to the boy?” said Ariel.
“No, no. Nothin’ happened. He’s right as rain, he is. Aiden jest stuck ’im a lil with his knife is all.”
“What?” said Jane. “Geoff’s been stabbed?”
“Who’s Aiden?” asked Sawyer, taking a step toward Bleet.
“Aarrgghh! Easy with that point, will ya? Aiden’ll be our leader, he is. Makes lots o’ gold for us, he does.”
“Yeah, you look like it,” said Sawyer.
Jane lowered her club. Ariel had returned and the danger from Bleet was over and done. She watched as Ariel searched the old outlaw for further weapons. She found another knife in one of his boots.
“If you decide to take prisoners,” she said, “always remember to search them thoroughly for weapons.” Ariel threw the knives into the woods and stood up.
“Now, now. They’ll be jest for carvin’ dinner an’ such. I forgot I—”
Without a single word Ariel punched Bleet in the face. Jane heard a crunch and Bleet was unconscious. His nose looked even worse now, she thought. It was red and swollen and had a nasty bend to it.
“You broke his nose,” said Jane.
“Good. Maybe he looks better,” said Sawyer. His face was still a little red, and he still seemed a bit embarrassed.
“I followed Geoff’s trail,” said Ariel. “He travels with someone and he is being pursued by the rest of the brigands. We should hurry.”
“Did Geoff get captured by someone else? And what are we going to do with him?” said Jane, pointing at Bleet.
“Leave him,” said Ariel. “He will survive and find a way to escape. Worms like him always do. Geoff is no longer a prisoner, but that may change if we do not find him in time.”
“Are you sure? I mean, what if he gets loose and warns the other brigands? Isn’t there a police or sheriff’s office or something? We’re just going to let him go?” said Jane.
“Do you wish for me to kill him?” asked Ariel.
“No,” said Jane. “But shouldn’t he be punished for kidnapping Geoff?”
“Who cares?” said Sawyer. “The rank old fart is on his own. I hope some animals eat him.”
“We do not have time,” said Ariel. “Geoff may need our aid even now.”
“Yeah,” said Sawyer, putting his sword back in its scabbard. “Let’s roll.”
Jane didn’t want to waste any more time with Bleet, either. They needed to find Geoff, and from the tone in Ariel’s voice, he must be close and in trouble.
They dashed into the forest, following Geoff’s tracks. Jane and Sawyer no longer tried to keep quiet. They ran as fast as they could, crunching and crashing through the woods in an attempt to keep up with Ariel.
“Sawyer,” said Jane, “do we have any idea who’s with Geoff?”
“No,” he said. “Bleet mentioned an elf girl. But maybe one of those brigands helped him escape?
Dunno.”
Jane frowned. Sawyer’s guess didn’t make any sense to her. Why would one of the brigands betray their own? And if Bleet was any indication, the brigands were crafty, merciless, and hateful. She remembered how dangerous this world was; brigands might be the least of their worries. The werewolf was still hunting them.
Jane searched for Ariel as she ran. But as usual, she was too far ahead, she thought. Sawyer was running twenty feet ahead of her and he made a lot of noise, so Jane easily followed him along a small woodsy ravine and over a few mossy boulders. They passed through more trees and found Ariel standing in a small clearing holding her hand up while she covered her heart with the other.
Two figures emerged from the far side of the clearing and approached Ariel.
Chapter Twenty
Brigand Battle
“So what do we do?” asked Geoff, staring at the large, ragged figure by the water.
Ishara didn’t answer. She remained tense, ready to let her arrow fly. Geoff’s heart began to race and he could feel goose bumps on his arms again.
“Ishara,” said Geoff urgently, “what do we do?”
“Quiet. We should avoid that stranger,” she whispered. “I do not have a good feeling about him.”
“Yeah,” said Geoff. “Me either.”
Geoff stepped back. He glanced back over his shoulder at the route they had taken.
“Geoff!” said Ishara. He spun back around at the urgency in her voice. She stood and it looked to Geoff like she was going to fire her arrow.
The tattered figure stood up and looked at them.
“He sees us! What are we going to do?”
Geoff turned to Ishara. She had a clear shot at the stranger.
“Are you going to shoot him?”
The solitary figure motioned for them to come closer. He didn’t appear to be afraid of Ishara aiming an arrow at him. He made no threatening moves, nor did he appear to be armed.
“Do we run for it?” asked Geoff.
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