Betrayal In The Highlands (Book 2)

by Robert Evert

  He watched Pond kiss the top of Abby’s head but was far too numb to feel jealous.

  What now?

  Beside him, Becky glowered into the darkness, her canines bared in a silent growl. She stalked toward a large bush.

  “Becky,” Edmund said.

  Becky stopped, still eyeing the bush.

  Something was on the other side. Maybe several somethings.

  “We have to get out of here,” he said to the others. “Pond, how far is camp?”

  Still staring sadly at Fatty’s body, Pond shrugged. “A mile or so. I don’t know. Maybe less. We were looking for you when we heard the screams. We came as fast as we could.”

  Edmund spit blood out of his mouth. “A mile …”

  We won’t make it.

  Something moved in the woods.

  It might have been a raccoon. It might have been Kravel and Gurding coming back for them; they were both injured, maybe even seriously. But the goblins wouldn’t go far. Edmund was too precious of a prize. They would never stop until they dragged him back to the Undead King’s tower.

  “Quick.” Edmund picked up his weapon. “We have to get out of here. Back to town!”

  “What about Fatty?” Abby sniveled, still holding Pond. “And my mare?”

  Edmund looked at Fatty; his fleshy face seemed peaceful and oddly intelligent.

  We’ll never be able to carry him.

  Bury him?

  With what? Everything’s back at the wagon, and digging with our hands will take too long.

  Edmund shook his head. “I’m … I’m sorry. We’ll never make it to the horses in time. We have to get inside Rood’s walls.”

  He braced himself for an argument, even wondering whether he was strong enough to carry Abby over his shoulder. But Abby just sniffled and nodded. She bent over and closed Fatty’s eyelids.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, caressing the fat man’s pallid face.

  “We’ll come back and take care of his body later,” Pond said to her. “But Ed’s right. We have to get to town. It’ll be safe there.”

  Abby patted Fatty’s chest. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  Her hand dripped red.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Following Becky, they stumbled to the walls surrounding Rood. Abby shimmied up one of the overhanging trees.

  “I can’t,” Edmund said, still holding his right forearm. His healing spell might have closed the wound, but at least one bone in his arm was broken. It would take time for it to mend, even with magic. “I can’t climb.”

  Abby started to descend.

  “No,” Edmund told her. “Go over. I need to know that you’re safe. Pond and I will meet you at the east gate.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said.

  An owl took flight from one of the nearby trees, startling her.

  “Abby,” Pond said, his voice tired yet firm.

  “Okay. Just … just hurry.” She scurried up the tree and dropped behind the wall.

  Becky turned to the woods and growled.

  “We’d better get going,” Edmund said. “They haven’t gone far.”

  They staggered to the eastern gate and found it open and unguarded.

  “Damn, Norb! What the hell is he doing?”

  “Does it really matter?” Pond asked. “I mean, the goblins can climb over the wall without any problem.”

  “Let’s just hope there aren’t enough of them to assault the town. Come on.”

  Abby ran up to them, breathing hard.

  “Where to?” Pond surveyed the scant buildings and tent clusters comprising the village. Smoky red campfires dotted the darkness.

  What are we doing? Hiding? Warning everybody? Warn—

  Molly …

  “This way.”

  Holding his forearm, Edmund limped through the ruins of Rood, heedless of the despondent men staring at them.

  They reached Molly and Norb’s poorly constructed wooden house. Edmund hobbled up the stairs to the uneven porch and hammered on the door.

  “Who lives here?” Pond asked.

  “She does,” Abby replied.

  “Who—?” Then Pond’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! Well, this’ll be interesting.”

  Edmund continued to hammer.

  Inside the house something moved, but Edmund didn’t wait for it to reach the front door. He kicked it, breaking the lock, and quickly stepped inside.

  “Boy, this place stinks!” Abby held her nose so she couldn’t smell the mildew and rotting wood. “What a pit!”

  “Trust me,” Pond said, looking around, “this isn’t a pit.”

  “Molly?” Edmund yelled.

  Yawning and dressed in a dirty white robe, Molly tottered into the living room. She stopped short.

  “Ed?” she said.

  “Molly!” Edmund strode toward her, blood still dripping from his nose and arm.

  She backed away.

  “Molly,” he repeated, touching her shoulder. Molly twitched and raised her hands to protect her face. She retreated another step, Edmund’s bloody handprint on her robe. “You’re in danger. You’ve got to come with us.”

  He tried to guide her to the door, but Molly refused to move.

  “Ed, what … what are you doing here?” Her eyes, now wide awake with fear, flitted from Edmund, to Pond, to Abby, and then back to Edmund. All of them were covered in blood, but the shock of seeing Edmund seemed to disturb her the most. “You, you shouldn’t be—”

  “We don’t have time explain,” he said. “Get your things together. We have to leave.”

  “Ed … I, I can’t. What … what are you doing here? You shouldn’t—”

  Slow, heavy footfalls rattled loose boards on the front porch.

  The door opened.

  Bent over and tottering, Norb lurched inside. He stopped, one hand still resting listlessly on the doorknob, the Star of Iliandor dull on his grimy forehead.

  His bloodshot eyes focused upon Edmund.

  “Uh-oh,” he said, swaying.

  He licked his lips then dragged the back of his hand across them. Edmund could smell the reek of alcohol from across the room.

  Norb! What’s wrong with you?

  Pond slid behind Norb, closed the door, and pointed his rapier at Norb’s back, raising his eyebrows in silent question. Edmund subtly shook his head. They couldn’t kill Norb, not with Molly watching.

  He’s barely human now. He won’t live much longer if he keeps this up.

  Lowering his head like a beaten dog, the former stablehand mumbled something.

  “Norb.” Edmund staggered toward him. “You were with a woman earlier. A skinny woman with—”

  Mumbling louder, Norb turned to leave, but found a grim and bloody Pond blocking his way, sword drawn.

  “Norb,” Edmund said, anger mounting. “What did you tell her?”

  Trembling, Norb fell to his knees, quivering hands upraised and begging for mercy.

  “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t … hurt me. Don’t. Ed. Please?”

  I should have killed him when I had the chance.

  “What did you tell her, Norb?”

  Licking his lips again, Norb tried to compose himself. “Who?”

  Edmund slapped Norb with his good hand, knocking the drunk to the floor. Pain shot through Edmund’s injured forearm, jarred by the sudden movement. He swore.

  The point of Pond’s rapier poked the side of Norb’s face. Norb watched it nervously as it came to rest against his bobbing Adam’s apple.

  “What did you tell her, Norb?” Edmund demanded.

  More sniveling.

  “Tell me!”

  “I … I …” Norb looked up at Edmund, a red welt the size of a hand on his cheek, tears in his hazy eyes. “I … I, I told her, I told her everything. Everything she wanted to know!”

  Edmund fought to draw air into his lungs.

  “What—exactly—did you tell her?”

  Norb’s eyes shifted to Pond
’s rapier next to his neck. “Don’t kill, don’t kill me. Please, Ed. Please don’t. Please.”

  “What did you tell Edith, Norb?”

  At the mention of the librarian’s name, Norb’s mouth hung open.

  “Tell me, damn you! Tell me what you told her or I’ll kill you right here. Tell me!” Edmund kicked Norb in the head. “Tell me!”

  “Ed! Stop!” Molly screamed.

  Cowering, Norb swallowed. His gaze swam around the room.

  “Did you tell her that I’m a magic user?” Edmund asked, already knowing the answer. “Did you?”

  Norb muttered a few words. Edmund kicked the Lord of the Highlands again and again, ignoring his own pain. “Tell me, damn it! Tell me!”

  “Yes!” Molly shouted. “Yes, he did. Now just leave him alone!” She tightened her robe around herself and took a step toward Edmund, but froze when Becky snarled, baring her fangs. “I’m … I’m sorry, Ed. I told him to. He … he tells stories at the tavern. We own it, you see. He … he tells stories to build business. I know you didn’t want us to talk about you, but … but we need the money!”

  What happened to all of the money I left you? That should have lasted a lifetime.

  Edmund glanced at the expensive furniture cluttering the room.

  Molly’s face softened. She inclined her head and smiled, the same smile that had appeared whenever she’d wanted Edmund to buy her a new dress or to help pay her bills.

  “Please, Ed. He didn’t mean any harm. Don’t hurt him. Okay?”

  Edmund scowled in disgust.

  “What else?” he said to Norb. “What else did you tell her? What did she ask you?”

  Norb’s eyes closed, his body sinking to the floor. Edmund grabbed him by the hair. Norb revived, begged for forgiveness.

  “Did you tell her about the diary? The book I brought when I rescued Molly. Did you tell her about that?”

  Norb’s muddled gaze floated over to Molly, who stood across the room wiping her tears with the sleeve of her robe.

  Edmund kicked him in the stomach.

  “Ed! Don’t!” Molly yelled. “Stop it! Just stop it!”

  “Did you tell her about the book?” he asked Norb again.

  Norb held his midsection, whimpering. “She asked if it was in your house when, when the goblins burnt it down.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her you had a diary. When we rescued Mol. You had it with you. Oh, please Ed. Please leave me alone. Please.”

  Cold sweat tickled Edmund’s ribs. He could barely breathe, but he needed to know exactly what Norb had told Edith.

  “Did you, did you tell her about what I found? The papers? Under the cover? Did you tell her about the papers?”

  Swallowing hard, Norb looked up at Edmund and said, “Yes.”

  Edmund reeled back. He turned in a circle, rubbing his swollen eye in disbelief.

  She knows! She knows I found the formula for Iliandor’s metal.

  She doesn’t know.

  What else would have been hidden in Iliandor’s personal diary? She knows!

  “You okay, Ed?” Pond asked, sword still pressed against Norb’s throat.

  Edmund fell into a rocking chair, a cloud of dust poofing up from its plump cushion.

  “How,” he began, head in his hands. “How … how did she react? What did she say?”

  Norb peered vaguely around the room. Pond jabbed him with his sword point, drawing blood.

  “Answer him.”

  “She, she didn’t … she didn’t say anything,” Norb replied. “Honest! She … she just, just … blinked at me. Then she became furious. She couldn’t speak. I, I thought …” He shuddered. “I thought she was going to kill me!”

  She figured it out. She knows, and she’ll be coming after me. It’s all over.

  “Ed.” Norb’s voice quavered as he knelt at Pond’s feet. “She’s … she’s one of you, you know? She’s a witch!”

  Two men passed by outside the house, singing a drinking tune, their voices slurred.

  Edmund took a deep breath then released it.

  “What about the dwarf?” he asked. “What did he say?”

  Norb, his glassy eyes seeming to waver in and out of focus, appeared puzzled. “I … I don’t know what you mean. What, what dwarf?”

  Edmund considered kicking him again, but there was no point. All was lost. He might as well just sit there until Edith came and tortured the secret out of him. Once she had it, she’d kill him and his friends.

  “I’ve seen him,” Molly said, as though speaking to herself. “The dwarf. But I thought it was just a dream.”

  They all stared at her still standing in the entryway to the front room, clutching her tattered robe to her body.

  “He was …” she went on, “he was leaning over me as I slept, asking me questions about you, Ed.” She looked at him, tired green eyes apologetic and terrified, cheeks streaked with old and new tears. “I told him everything. I couldn’t help myself. I just told him everything.”

  “Everything?” Edmund repeated. His arm throbbed. His head pounded behind his swollen eye. He was so exhausted he didn’t think he could stand. “What did he ask you?”

  “He wanted to know if you had been here,” she said. “He wanted to know what you could do. Magically, I mean.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  Molly shivered. “It wasn’t as if I actually told him anything. It was, it was like he was going through my mind, if that makes any sense. Looking for things. Searching for images. Again, I thought it was all a dream.”

  “What did you tell him?” Abby stomped toward Molly. “What did you tell him!”

  “He, he knows you’re a healer,” Molly said to Edmund, clearly wondering who Abby was but not daring to ask. “He knows you can make fire and food. But, but that’s all I told them! That’s all I know. He … he seemed disappointed.”

  Edmund groaned. “What else? What else did you tell him?”

  Molly appeared reluctant to answer. Abby took her by the upper arm, fingers digging into where the muscle and bone met. Molly tried to pull away.

  “You’re hurting me!”

  Abby shoved her onto the antique sofa. Molly fell back, head smacking the wall.

  “I’ll hurt you a lot more, princess, if you don’t tell us what else you told them.”

  Abby loomed over Molly, fists pulled back. Molly recoiled. She glanced toward Edmund for help, but he was just as shocked as she was.

  “What else did you tell him?” Abby demanded.

  “He, he …” Molly scooted sideways, trying to put distance between herself and Abby. “He asked if I could get Ed to come back here, back to Rood.”

  “And what did you tell him?” Abby said, pursuing Molly as she inched along the sofa. “What did you tell him?”

  She grabbed Molly’s greying auburn hair and yanked. Molly screamed. Norb started to climb to his knees, but Pond put his boot on the Lord of the Highland’s shoulder and drove him back to the floor.

  Abby slapped Molly hard across the face, much harder than Edmund had slapped Norb. Snot flew from Molly’s nose as her head whipped round from the impact. “This isn’t a game, princess!”

  Mouth open, Molly stared up at Abby as she rubbed the purple welt swelling on her cheek.

  “Our lives are at stake!” Abby shouted. “Don’t you understand? Now what did you tell him?”

  Molly hesitated.

  Abby lifted her hand.

  Cringing, Molly struggled to push herself away, but Abby jerked her head back again.

  “Ow!”

  “Tell me what you told him, or you’ll hurt a lot worse.” Abby formed a fist. “What did you tell him?”

  “I, I … I told him I could get Ed to do anything I wanted!”

  Edmund sat up.

  “Did you tell him anything else?” Abby said. “Did you?”

  “Ed,” Molly pleaded.

  Abby yanked her hair a third time.

&n
bsp; “Ow—stop it!”

  “Did you tell him anything else?”

  “No! No! Honest.” Molly’s wild eyes fixed on Edmund sitting in the chair across the room from her. “Ed, you’ve got to believe me. You’ve got to understand what things have been like up here. It’s chaos! People are demanding free land. Nobody will pay their taxes! There’s no food or houses. It’s horrible!”

  Edmund put his head back into his hands.

  She could get me to do anything she wanted …

  “What do you want to do?” Pond asked, boot still planted between Norb’s shoulder blades. Whether Norb was asleep, passed out, or just pretending, Edmund couldn’t tell and didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything anymore. Throughout his entire life, he had been nothing but Molly’s stupid pawn.

  “So what now?” Abby asked Edmund.

  “I don’t know,” Edmund replied, slumping in the chair. “I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Pond said. “Let’s get the hell out of here. There were some horses tied up outside that building in the center of town. We could buy them—”

  “And go where?” Edmund asked hopelessly. “Edith knew we were in Dardenello. She knew we were in Long Ravine. Hell, she even knew what room we were going to be in before we rented it. She knows our every move. Where could we go that’s safe?”

  I’m doomed.

  Not just you …

  “You need to get out of here,” he told Abby. “You and, and Pond … both of you. Both of you need to get out of here and stay away from me. They won’t hurt you if—”

  “Don’t be an idiot.” Abby lifted Edmund to his feet by his good arm. “We’re leaving.”

  “What about them?” Pond asked, nodding to Molly and Norb.

  Molly sat on the sofa, sobbing and holding her swollen cheek, hair in disarray. Norb lay on the floor, wine-scented drool sliding from his open mouth.

  Abby frowned. “They deserve each other.” She patted her leg. “Come on, Beck. Time to get out of here.”

  Becky trotted over to Abby, not taking her eyes off the crying Molly.

  “Where will we go?” Edmund asked. “We don’t even have any supplies. Everything’s at camp, and Kravel—”

  “Kravel?” Molly choked back a sob.

  “Yes, Molly. He’s here,” Edmund said with an effort. “He and Gurding and twenty or so others. They’re looking for us. They’re looking for you and me.”