“What about their mother?”
“She died last fall, of the old maiden’s disease, which is strange because she’d had all those children. She wasn’t even as old as my mother.”
“I’m sorry she died so young,” said Eynon.
“So am I,” said Merry, “but that’s why I’m worried. I know that the sons can be wild, especially if their father is away. Their mother used to keep them in line, but without her around, I don’t know what to expect.”
“Could it be worse than Gruffyd?”
“Yes—far worse. When they’re unsupervised, I’ve heard tales of the Mastlands sons acting worse than a band of blue-painted mountain-clan raiders after three days of drinking.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Neither do I,” said Merry. “Rumor has it they have no respect for person or property.”
“We’ll have to be prepared, then,” said Eynon.
“What do you have in mind?”
* * * * *
“Here comes the toll station,” said Eynon from the prow. He was wearing Merry’s long blue cloak to give his appearance a sense of mystery, though the effect was somewhat spoiled, because it didn’t even reach his knees. His own cloak was far too plain to impress.
“I see it,” said Merry. “Is the chain up?”
“It wasn’t, but it is now,” said Eynon. “Two men are turning the windlass.”
“Do you think we can run down the center of the channel and have you cut the chain with the shard as we go?” asked Merry.
“I wouldn’t risk it,” said Eynon. “One of the brothers has a crossbow.”
“We could hide behind the sides of the boat and you could cut the chain on the far side,” said Merry.
“I see grapnels on the dock by the windlass,” said Eynon.
“Blast,” said Merry. “We’ll have to hope they’ll behave.”
“And if not,” said Eynon, “we’ll bluff.”
“I’ll take the lead and pretend everything is normal,” said Merry.
She steered the boat within a few feet of the Mastlands toll station dock and held up a jug of cider.
“I’ve got your toll,” she said, “and two more of these beside, to trade for a couple of hams.”
The four brothers stood close together on the side of the dock near Merry and Eynon. It was clear they’d been drinking for at least a few hours. The men seemed to be well on their way to the belligerent drunk stage.
Eynon didn’t know their names, so he mentally dubbed them Oaf, Dolt, Fox and Fool. Oaf and Dolt were tall and muscle-bound, with stubbly beards and stringy blond hair past their shoulders. They appeared to be in their early twenties and showed the exaggerated bravado of large men after several mugs of strong beer. Fox had short dark hair, a sly look, and a pointed beard. He was clearly a few years older and still had his wits about him. Fool was Merry’s age and was midway between Fox and Oaf in size. He looked wiry. His hair was shaved to the scalp so there was no way to tell its color.
Lice, thought Eynon.
“We’ll help you with mooring,” said Fox.
He nodded to Oaf and Dolt and the pair tossed grapnels over the gunwales of the boat and pulled it close against the dock, tying off the lines securely. Fool kept a loaded crossbow aimed at Eynon. Regrettably, Fool’s eyes were clear. He must not have matched Oaf and Dolt drink for drink.
“It’s not your cider jugs we want for passage past our lands,” said Fox. “We’ll be taking two of your barrels for our toll.”
“The barrels already belong to my father’s customer in Tyford,” protested Merry.
Eynon could hear the worry in her voice.
“It’s not our fault you’re not prepared for an increased toll,” said Fox, “though I will toss in a couple of hams if you stay to enjoy our company while we tap the first barrel.”
“No thank you,” said Merry, struggling to retain any sense of civility. “You can keep your hams, just allow us to be on our way.”
“I think not,” said Fox. “Grab the girl and tie her to a post. Do the same with the beanpole.”
“This is outrageous,” Merry protested. “When my father finds out, you’ll have Applegarth’s levies and the earl’s knights to deal with.”
She looked at Eynon and he could see from her expression that the situation was deteriorating far beyond anything Merry had anticipated. He was glad they’d planned ahead.
“What do you think?” said Fox to Fool.
“I think we’d best make sure her father doesn’t find out,” Fool replied. He nodded at Eynon and Merry. “The river can be quite dangerous at this time of year, after all.”
Eynon revised his assessment—the youngest brother was no fool.
“I want the girl first,” said Oaf. He began to climb onto the stern deck of the boat, but Merry held him off with her steering oar.
“I’ll get the boy,” said Dolt. “He’ll be an interesting diversion while I wait.”
“Keep your crossbow on him so he doesn’t cause trouble,” said Fox to Fool.
“Don’t be an idiot,” said Fool. He momentarily aimed the tip of the loaded quarrel at Fox to make his point. “I know my job.”
Eynon chose that moment to stand up. He’d discovered a small loop on the back of the silver amulet, so he could hang it and its central blue stone from a thin cord around his neck. The metal glinted in the late afternoon sun and the stone glowed with an inner warmth. A tall staff Eynon had whittled from the thick branch was in his right hand and Merry’s cloak swirled. The shard he’d used to shape his staff was on the bow thwart behind him.
“I am the free wizard Eynon,” he said, using the same voice Eynon’s father employed to get the attention of quarreling village elders. “This woman and her cargo are under my protection. Keep your distance, or I will blast you where you stand.”
Oaf paused his attempt to drag Merry off the boat and Dolt didn’t come any closer to Eynon.
“Aren’t you a little young to be a free wizard?” asked Fox.
Eynon watched Fool shift his crossbow so it pointed at his chest. He belatedly realized that Dolt hadn’t moved to attack him so that he didn’t block his brother’s shot. As the speeding quarrel rushed toward him, Eynon’s staff moved of its own volition and intercepted the bolt in mid-flight. It quivered in the wood a few inches above Eynon’s hand. He was as surprised as Fool, but tried his best not to show it. Fool bent to reload.
“Grab them, you idiots,” said Fox. “The boy was lucky, that’s all.”
Oaf pulled Merry’s steering oar out of her hands and threw it on the boat’s deck near the cider barrels. He leered at her and opened and closed his hands menacingly, as if to illustrate what he soon planned to do.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he said. “You know you’ll like it.”
Merry closed her eyes and muttered a few words under her breath.
“Archers, release the hounds!” shouted Eynon.
Dolt stopped advancing on Eynon. From the woods near the dock came excited bays of hunting dogs. The distinctive clank-click of a dozen crossbows being cocked echoed in the trees.
“Begone!” Eynon commanded.
The four Mastlands brothers exchanged glances. They were fine with odds of four to two, but less so when they were the ones outnumbered.
“Back to the keep, boys,” said Fox. “Maybe he is a wizard.”
“I’m still takin’ the girl,” said Oaf.
“An’ I want the wizard’s silver,” said Dolt.
Then the dogs stopped barking and archers failed to appear from the woods. The two big men exchanged unpleasant smiles. They stood with the toes of their boots sticking over the edge of the dock, about to step down into the boat. Eynon turned and picked up the sh
ard on the bow thwart in his left hand. He twisted his arm back and brought the sharp side of the shard down across Dolt’s left boot, a few inches from the tip. Merry did the same to Oaf, using a second shard she’d hidden beneath her steersman’s seat. The boot tips fell into the boat as Oaf and Dolt screamed and hopped back, clutching their injured extremities.
Eynon kept swinging his shard to sever the grapnel ropes near the prow, while Merry cut the grapnel ropes at the stern, then jumped down into the cargo area to retrieve her steering oar. When Eynon looked up, he saw that Fool had finished reloading and was trying to decide whether to target Merry or him. Eynon lifted the small crossbow from his belt and loosed the bolt he’d already loaded in Fool’s general direction. Even if it didn’t hit him, he hoped it would at least distract Fool’s aim.
Eynon was astonished to see the small quarrel had done more than distract. The bolt had pierced Fool’s left hand and nailed it to the stock of his crossbow. Fool’s arms went up, along with his weapon, and his quarrel released, flying harmlessly into the air.
“Push off,” said Merry. “It’s time to go.”
“You won’t get far,” said Fox. “The chain is still up.”
The oldest brother moved to the far end of the dock, behind the windlass. He bent down and was out of sight for a few seconds as Merry and Eynon used the steering oar and Eynon’s staff to guide the boat down the length of the dock. Once clear, the current turned them to face downstream, but their progress stopped when the boat bumped into the toll station’s massive iron chain.
“Cut it!” shouted Merry.
“Yes, dear lady,” said Eynon as he leaned over the starboard bow and began to saw at the chain with his shard. Unfortunately, metal proved much slower to cut through than wood. He finished one side of the nearest link, but needed to cut the other side as well for the barrier to separate. He could feel Merry fighting the current with her steering oar to keep the boat stable and not have it turn broadside to the flowing water. Then the link was completely severed and the chain fell. The boat leapt forward.
“Eynon!” shouted Merry.
He rose and turned to see Fox standing by the now-useless windlass. The oldest brother had a malevolent look on his face. The dark-haired man held a long wooden spear with a tapering steel blade in his right hand, ready to throw.
Must be for stabbing fish, thought part of Eynon’s brain.
The boat’s stern—and Merry—were almost even with where Fox waited. At that distance, Eynon knew it would be hard for the man to miss. Eynon’s hand went to the amulet as Fox hurled the spear toward Merry. An intense beam of blue light shot from the amulet’s gem and disintegrated the spear as it flew. The shaft turned into ashes that wafted away on the wind and the spearhead fell into the river with a loud plop.
Eynon wasn’t sure why or what he did next. He squeezed the amulet and saw a fireball emerge from the blue magestone like a shooting star. It struck the end of the dock and spread out, setting even the damp wood of the pilings ablaze. He watched as Fox and Fool helped Oaf and Dolt off the dock and smiled at the reflection of the blue-white flames on the water until the boat passed around a bend. Only a glow in the sky upriver remained to remind them what had happened.
Eynon was trying to figure out how he felt about the first time he’d ever intentionally harmed other human beings. The fire of the moment had been as hot as the fireball that had set the dock ablaze. He would have done anything to save himself and Merry, but once the heat of trying to survive passed, he was less sure of himself. He would have killed the men, if he needed to, and that didn’t fit with the boy he’d been two days before.
Merry was the first to break the silence.
“You saved my life.”
“The amulet saved your life,” said Eynon, “and I’m very glad it did.”
“Uh huh,” said Merry.
Eynon thought she must feel like he had felt after he’d found the amulet and set fire to the old oak. He waited a few beats, then spoke loud enough to be heard over the rushing river.
“Your sound-magic with the dogs and the crossbowmen was very well-executed.”
“I made Doethan teach me that spell so I could protect my boat,” said Merry.
“Did he teach you the physical aversion spell, too?”
“No, that’s more advanced.”
“What a pity,” said Eynon. “Maybe it would have kept the Mastlands sons away.”
“Even if I knew it, I couldn’t very well cast that spell with us still aboard!”
Eynon was pleased to hear her response. It was more like the old Merry—the one that wasn’t in shock.
“Not interested in tingling like a nest full of wolfhornets?” he asked.
“Not today, thank you.”
“Me neither.”
The two of them sat watching the river, but not speaking. Eynon silently signaled for rocks by raising his left hand or his right. The sun crept closer to the western horizon before either of them spoke.
“We have to stop at the next toll station,” said Merry.
Eynon put his hands over his ears.
“I can’t hear you,” he said.
“No, really,” said Merry. “The next toll station is Flying Frog Farms. It’s nothing like those despicable Mastlands barbarians.”
“La, la, la,” said Eynon.
“Stop that,” said Merry.
Eynon put his hands down.
“Rock right.”
“Where?” asked Merry.
“We already passed it.”
“Be serious. We need to tell them about the Mastlands sons’ attack. Llyffan needs to get the earl and the local levies mustered to punish them.”
“Llyffan?”
“The owner and squire-reeve at Flying Frog Farms,” said Merry.
“Oh,” said Eynon. He wondered if that’s what Derry was, too?
“Didn’t we punish them enough?” asked Eynon. “We shot them, set fire to their dock, and cut off their toes.”
“You don’t understand,” said Merry. “The prosperity of the valley depends on the river trade. If landowners and merchants can’t feel safe taking their cargoes up and down the river, it’s bad for everyone.”
“That makes sense,” said Eynon. “Will the earl hang them?”
“He might, if they don’t head southwest to join the mountain clans first.”
Eynon thought about the choice between exile or death and hoped he’d never have to face it. Then he smiled when he realized at least two of the brothers wouldn’t be walking very fast if they did head for the mountain clans’ lands.
“Will we be staying the night at Flying Frog Farms?” Eynon asked. “Your father told me about their butter.”
“Llyffan does know how to charm out extra pennies,” said Merry, “but we won’t be staying the night.”
“Does Llyffan keep an inn? Does he charge too much?”
“No, and no,” said Merry. “Llyffan is very generous to his friends. Our families have been close since before I was born. It’s not Llyffan I’m worried about, it’s his wife, Madollyn.”
“She doesn’t like you?”
“The opposite,” said Merry. “Maddy mothers me—smothers me is more like it. She’ll want to know everything about the goings on in Applegarth, whether or not my mother has a new dress, who you are, what happened on our trip downriver, and more. She’ll keep me up late talking and will stuff us until we can’t walk—for dinner and for breakfast.”
“Sounds like pure torture,” said Eynon, “and my aunt from Brynhill. A brief conversation with her takes half a day and I’m always sent home with a full stomach and a bag of honey cakes.”
“Good,” said Merry. “You understand. I’m hoping they’ll have some junior cousins collecting tolls so I can
pass the word about the Mastlands problem, tell them about the downed tree across the river, and make a quick escape.”
“I’ll follow your lead,” said Eynon. “I’ll even claim urgent business downriver if Madollyn is waiting for you at the dock.”
“You’re the best,” said Merry.
“Thank you, dear lady.”
Eynon was pleased she didn’t say, “Stop that!” this time. He looked down into the boat for a few seconds to give his eyes a rest from the glare of the sun off the water.
“Hey,” said Eynon, pointing down. “What do you want to do about these boot tips?”
He held up the section of scuffed leather he’d cut from the end of Dolt’s right boot.
“Hang on to them,” said Merry. “We can use their toes for bait.”
“I don’t think I want to eat any fish that would find their toes appealing,” said Eynon.
He rotated Dolt’s boot tip, examining it closely.
“Don’t worry,” said Merry. “I was joking.”
“You can tell the Mastlands brothers’ mother wasn’t around,” said Eynon.
“How?”
“This one wasn’t wearing socks.”
Chapter 8
“No youth is fully responsible in the spring.”
— Ealdamon’s Epigrams
“Go right!” shouted Eynon.
“But there’s a rock in that direction,” said Merry.
“With my hat behind it. Get me close and I’ll try to snag it.”
The Congruent Apprentice (The Congruent Mage Series Book 1) Page 9