Betrayal In The Highlands (Book 2)

by Robert Evert

  “He’s ruined everything!” Edith said. “Kill him. Kill him slowly!”

  “No!” Lester’s sneer broadened across his overly large face. “Burn out his other eye and let him wander these godforsaken lands until the goblins find him.”

  “He … he doesn’t know the formula,” Edmund said, nearly tripping over Pond as he retreated. “I … I … I destroyed it! That’s … that’s how we escaped. We—”

  “Lies!” Horic stormed toward Edmund. “You’ve betrayed us. Betrayed everything! Do you know what he’ll do with that formula? Do you know what his powers will be like now?” He struggled to speak. “I’m going to make you suffer like you’ve never suffered before!”

  Horic lifted his wrinkled hand. Red light crackled and swirled around his fingers like tiny bolts of lightning. He pointed at Edmund. “Fyre besette han!”

  A blast of energy shot toward Edmund’s chest, entwining him, dancing over his clammy skin. His entire body tingled.

  “N-no,” he stammered. “Lis-lis-listen, listen to me. I set the formula on fire. I … I—”

  Hand outstretched, Horic stepped closer. More energy surged; burning shocks jolted Edmund’s heart.

  Edmund’s knees buckled. He should have crashed to the ground, but an unseen force held him up.

  Horic laughed cruelly, savoring Edmund’s agony.

  “I got away!” Edmund cried out. “I got away!”

  Sharp flashes of pain racked his body. Gasping, Edmund felt his hair stand on end. Spit sizzled on his tongue. His eye bulged.

  “Kill him slowly,” Edith said. “Very slowly.”

  “But if he dies,” the dwarf countered, “we won’t be able to torment him any longer. What fun would that be?”

  “Set on fire … threw it … threw it across room!” Edmund’s limbs twitched. “Escaped!”

  Body flailing, he tried to explain what had happened back in the Undead King’s library, but he could no longer speak. A wailing scream bubbled up as more crackling currents sunk into his skin, squeezing and burning his insides. The scream reached his throat. He opened his mouth and retched.

  Then Horic lowered his hand.

  Edmund collapsed, wheezing.

  “What are you doing?” Edith cried. “Kill him!”

  Horic snapped his fingers at the dwarf.

  Lester swayed, smiling agreeably at Edmund.

  “Is this true?” Lester sang. “Did you burn the formula before the Undead King got it?”

  “Yes,” Edmund replied, partly of his own accord.

  The blue flames swirling around his chest sputtered then disappeared.

  They all stared at him.

  “I can’t believe he destroyed Iliandor’s secret,” Edith muttered, aghast. “All these years, lifetimes of searching …”

  Several horses at the makeshift stables snorted in the darkness.

  Inside the tavern, a loud argument broke out, the hollering voices muted by the wooden walls.

  Then Horic’s head lifted, a sudden understanding in his wicked eyes.

  “It’s true,” he said to Edmund with surprise and a hint of admiration. “You remember everything you read, don’t you? That’s why the Hiisi are still pursuing you.”

  Don’t tell—

  But Edmund, doubled over and breathing hard, had already nodded.

  They smiled—the hungry smiles of cats leering at a cornered mouse.

  Horic hobbled toward Edmund, appearing now like a simple elderly man, wise and sympathetic.

  “Tell me Iliandor’s secret,” he said, his tone soft and benign. “How did he make the metal?” He shuffled closer. “Tell me how he did it. Did he use magic? Or was it some sort of metallurgical trick? Some sort of alloy that any dullard could reproduce by mixing the right proportions of minerals?”

  Edmund got to his feet and, trembling, backed away. He wanted to run but couldn’t move faster than a drunk man’s stumble.

  Horic, Edith, and Lester matched his pace, stepping over Pond to stay within arm’s length as Edmund staggered backward into the darkness behind The Buxom Barmaid.

  “Tell us,” Horic persisted gently.

  “Why?” Edmund asked. “You’re, you’re, you’re all magic users. You don’t need unbreakable weapons!”

  “Oh, but there’s far more to that metal than making unbreakable swords and armor. Much more.” Horic grinned. “Tell me how he did it.”

  “Why are you doing this to me? Just leave me alone!”

  “Why?” Horic echoed. “Because, Edmund, it’s time—time to finally bring a new order to this world. Or rather, it’s time to return this world to the old order of the Elder Days, when magic users ruled these lands and the lives of ordinary beings.”

  “It’s time to make ordinary mortals pay for what they’ve done to us,” Edith said. “Pay for their witch hunts and murders.”

  They watched Edmund cowering in front of them.

  “But first,” Horic continued, “we’ll need to deal with the Hiisi and Kar-Nazar. We can eradicate them once and for all, and you could avenge yourself for what they did to you and your home. You, Edmund, could be their downfall. All you have to do is tell us how Iliandor did it. How did he make his alloy?”

  Edmund heard faint voices.

  Please don’t let that be Abby coming to look for us. Please!

  He edged away, tempted to see if the horses at the makeshift stables were still there, but he didn’t want to draw their attention to Abby. One scream from her would make Edmund recite the formula in any language they liked.

  “With your help, Edmund, we can reshape the world,” Horic said, kind and reasonable—just a simple old man who’d dedicated his life to books.

  The voices drew closer; three of them, all men.

  Edith batted her eyes at Edmund like the meek woman he’d met at Eryn Mas, a woman in need. How could he turn her away? She might even like him in a way Molly never had. If he helped her, he’d never have to be alone again.

  “Tell us how Iliandor did it, Edmund.”

  “Never mind these niceties,” said Lester. “I’ll get everything we need from him. Then we can kill him and his stupid friend!”

  He began to sway, his eyes glowing a cold blue.

  Edmund tried to swallow. “I …”

  From around the tavern, a vaguely familiar voice called out, “There he is!”

  They all looked.

  Lester stopped dancing.

  Three people approached through the darkness. Two were burly men wearing chainmail and using their long swords as walking sticks. The third was a much shorter figure in his teens. Edmund recognized him immediately.

  “T-Toby?”

  Although he was nearly a foot taller than when they’d first met at the royal stables in Eryn Mas, the young man was clearly the blacksmith’s apprentice.

  “Boy!” Toby shook Edmund’s hand. “This town of yours is a dump! The countryside is beautiful and everything, but you have your work cut out for you fixing this place up, don’t you?”

  “What … what are you doing here?” Edmund asked, painfully aware of Horic’s mounting wrath.

  “Don’t you remember?” Toby replied, hurt.

  “Oh, right. You’re, you’re going to be my personal knight.”

  Toby brightened.

  “By the way,” he said. “These men were looking for you. I told them I could find you and I did. This is Hendrick and this is Bain. They’re from Havendor.”

  Hendrick elbowed his companion.

  “Is this her?” He tipped his chin toward Edith glowering at them.

  “Well, she doesn’t seem to match the description,” Bain said. “At least not completely. Sort of, I suppose. Petite. The hair isn’t black, though.”

  “Maybe she dyed it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Leave,” Horic said to them, his polite façade cracking. “This is none of your concern.”

  Hendrick bowed apologetically to Horic. “This won’t take long, sir.” He turned to
Edmund. “You’re Edmund of Rood. You were recently in Dardenello and Long Ravine, am I correct?”

  “Toby,” Edmund began in an overly calm voice, “listen to me.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Toby pointed to Pond still lying facedown on the ground. “Have too much to drink?”

  “Toby.” Edmund clutched his shoulders. “You need to leave. We’ll talk later, okay?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Go into the tavern. I’ll be with you in a moment. I’m busy right now. Urgent matters. You understand?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Now go. Okay? Go into the tavern and wait for me. It’ll only be a few m-m-minutes.”

  Toby seemed to catch something in Edmund’s expression. He looked at Horic, Edith, and Lester, all still trying to control their anger. Then he turned back to Edmund, glaring intently at him.

  “Oh. Okay. I have to get some lodging anyway.” Toby pointed at The Buxom Barmaid. “I’ll see you inside. I can’t wait for you to make me a knight. I have money for armor and everything!”

  Toby disappeared around the corner of the building.

  “Maybe she’s in disguise,” Bain said to Hendrick. “Anyway, she’s the only woman in town besides the other one with the red hair and big breasts. And here she is, with him.”

  Hendrick shook his head. “Don’t start on again about her breasts!”

  “What? I’m just saying they’re the only two women in town, and this one matches the description more than the first. That’s all I meant.”

  “What’s this about?” Edith asked as the men in chainmail studied her, nodding thoughtfully to themselves. “Who are you?”

  Hendrick inclined his head as much as his thick neck would allow. “I am Hendrick and this is my companion, Bain.” Then he added, as if it should be obvious, “We’re bounty hunters.”

  “Go away,” Lester demanded. “Or else.”

  Bain bent forward, snickering, his massive frame leaning over the dwarf like a tree about to fall on a rabbit. “Or else? Or else what, little man?”

  Lester’s face burned red. “Don’t mock me!”

  Bain jump backed in exaggerated fear.

  “I mean it!” Lester held up two fingers an inch apart. “You’re this close to death!”

  Edmund’s confused gaze leapt from the bounty hunters, to Edith, and then to Lester and Horic. Nobody was paying any attention to him.

  Run! Get the hell out of here.

  I can’t. Not without Pond.

  “Leave,” Horic repeated to Hendrick.

  “Not on your life,” Bain replied.

  “I’m sorry.” Hendrick motioned for Edith to come with him. “It’s nothing personal, you understand. Just business and all.”

  “What’s this all about?” Edith asked again.

  Hendrick reached for her arm.

  She jerked it away.

  “Come, come Abigail,” he said. “Daddy wants you home.”

  “And he’s willing to pay a fortune for your return!” Bain laughed.

  “What?”

  Edmund knelt, hoping to revive Pond or at least carry him to safety.

  Three horses were missing from the makeshift stables.

  “Go—away,” Horic said, low and threatening. He stepped toward Hendrick. “Or you’ll die where you stand.”

  “I’ll make the morons go away.” Lester began to sway.

  A commotion erupted inside the tavern. Somebody shouted.

  Sword lowered, Bain advanced upon the dwarf. “I’d hate to kill a runt,” he said. “But if you don’t watch your manners, I will.”

  Hendrick advanced as well, the tip of his polished blade pointed at Horic’s chest.

  “It’s nothing personal, mister, but her father’s rich, and he’s willing to pay us a bucket load of money if we bring her home.” He snatched Edith’s arm, pulled her toward them.

  “My father?” Edith fought to break free of Hendrick’s grasp. “What the hell are you idiots talking about?”

  Horic fumed, the air around him seeming to hiss and pop. “Let—her—go.”

  Tethered to the hitching post, the remaining horses pulled against their ties.

  All at once, the front door of The Buxom Barmaid burst open. People spilled out into the street, several talking in loud, inebriated voices.

  Do something. Get out of here before—

  Horic reached for Hendrick.

  “Varme narva …” His talon-like hand glowed crimson, a ball of flame materialized in his palm.

  Hendrick stammered. “He’s a … a … a magic user!”

  In a rush of movement, Pond sprang up and thrust the point of his rapier into Horic’s shoulder blade.

  Horic screamed.

  The ball of flame shot past Hendrick’s head and exploded against the makeshift stable, spewing liquid fire in every direction, illuminating the night.

  Engulfed in flames, a shrieking horse reared and bucked, clawing at the air with its hooves. Around it, the other horses strained frantically against their tethers. Three broke free and raced, panic-stricken, from the fiery stables while the pony tied next to the blazing horse squealed and thrashed, unable to get away.

  In the midst of the chaos, Horic wheeled toward Pond.

  In front of The Buxom Barmaid, people were shouting, “Fire! Fire!” while Toby led twenty men, many with swords drawn, racing toward them.

  Horic reached for Pond, palms glowing crimson. “Varme—”

  “Magic user!” One bounty hunter pointed at Horic. “He’s a magic user! The old man! The old man is a magic user! Magic user!”

  More people converged upon the burning stables; several tried to cut the thrashing horses free.

  The second bounty hunter took up the cry. “Magic user! Magic user! The old man! He’s a magic user!”

  Edith seized Horic’s arm. “We have to get out of here. We can’t kill them all; there’s too many of them.”

  Horic backed away from the growing mob. “You can’t hide,” he said to Edmund. “I’ll find you no matter where you go. And when I do, you’ll tell me everything I want to know.”

  With that, he, Edith, and Lester fled into the darkness.

  PART FOUR

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Get to the west gate,” Edmund told Pond. “Tell Molly she needs to bring the horses back. Have her pretend she caught them racing away.”

  “Molly?” Pond repeated as men rushed around them, hauling buckets of water to the burning stables.

  “I mean Abby! Go! Hurry!”

  “We’re not leaving?”

  “I don’t know. But you can’t leave her standing there. I don’t want Horic to find her.”

  “Are you going to be all right?”

  “Yes, yes! Hurry! Go get her!”

  Pond raced off.

  Toby ran to Edmund. “Did I do okay? I brought as many people as I could. I figured you needed help, judging by the way you were looking at me and all. Was that old man really a magic user? An honest-to-goodness magic user?” He seemed more excited than frightened.

  “Not all magic users are like him,” Edmund replied, jumping out of people’s way. Half the town was fighting the blaze. The other half was scampering here and there, waving weapons and shouting about magic users.

  “Look, Toby. You shouldn’t have come here. You need to go back to Eryn Mas.”

  “Why? I want to be a knight. You promised, remember?”

  Somebody loosed an arrow into the flaming horse. It screamed and crumpled to the ground, still ablaze. The archer shot it again.

  “Things are complicated,” Edmund explained. “Things are d-dangerous up here. You need to go back.”

  “I can’t!”

  A horse thundered by, cut free from the roaring remains of the makeshift stable.

  “I turned fifteen,” Toby shouted over the turmoil. “I finished my apprenticeship. My mother can’t support me anymore. I need a job, and there are already enough blacksmiths in Eryn Mas
!”

  Blacksmith …

  Maybe he could be helpful after all.

  Edmund led Toby out in front of the tavern, farther away from the inferno.

  “Can you make weapons?” he asked.

  A group of men rushed up, Hendrick and Bain among them. All had weapons drawn and ready.

  “You saw it,” Bain said to Edmund, out of breath. “You were there! Tell them! Tell them about the old man. Tell them he was a magic user!”

  “Is that true, mister?” another man asked. “Did you see it? Is he a magic user? An actual magic user?”

  Deny it! Tell them Horic threw a lit oil flask or something.

  No! Wait. It might be useful to have the entire town up in arms. The goblins still might attack.

  “I saw it,” Edmund confirmed. “A ball of fire shot from his hand.”

  The men began talking all at once; more than a few appeared terrified.

  “The dwarf and the woman who were with him are, too,” Edmund added.

  “Three magic users?” one of the men said in disbelief. “Mister, if you’re pulling our legs—”

  “Does that look like he’s pulling your legs?” Hendrick flung a hand at the crackling flames leaping up into the night sky. “I didn’t see the other two do anything, but I tell you that old man shot fire from his fingers. We have witnesses!”

  “We’d better send for some witch hunters,” somebody said.

  Edmund’s stomach tightened.

  “There ain’t no witch hunters this far north!” another replied, much to Edmund’s relief. “By the time they arrive, the witches will be long gone!”

  “What can they do against witches who can shoot balls of fire anyway?”

  There was a flurry of agreement.

  “We’d better get the Lord,” someone in the crowd shouted.

  There was a smattering of groans and disgusted laughter.

  “He’s under the table if he’s anywhere.”

  “He’s as good as a block of wood.”

  Puzzled, Toby turned to Edmund. “But you’re the—”

  Edmund hushed him. “I’ll explain later.”

  “What’re we going to do?” somebody asked.

  “Whatever it is, it’d better be quick! I ain’t gonna stick around while those witches burn us all alive!”