Backing into a niche in the canyon wall, Roland reversed the jagged end of the branch. When the first dog leaped at him, he rammed the branch as hard as he could into the animal’s throat. The dog’s baying was cut off, and he began rolling and choking.
But others were upon him. He fought them off by jabbing with the stick. Their howlings and barkings filled the air, and he knew then that the end was near.
“I’m trusting you, Goél,” he gasped aloud, “even though I don’t see any hope now.”
And then Lord Zarak came into view. The lords accompanying him on the Hunt were strung out behind him.
The wizard reined in his horse, a cruel smile on his lips. “Well, we have found our quarry,” he said as his followers galloped up.
“Will you kill him now, my lord?” Cranmore asked. He sounded worried. “Perhaps we had better wait. You know what the king’s command was.”
Zarak said, “We’ll let the dogs kill him. That way we can say we intended to stop them.”
The hunters sat on their horses watching as the dogs time and time again tried to get at Roland, but he fought them off valiantly.
“He’s a fighter, my lord,” the sheriff said. “He’s got courage.”
“Those mangy dogs!” Zarak cried. “Kill him! Kill him!”
Even as he shouted, someone behind Zarak cried, “It is the king and the Lady Lara, my lord!”
Zarak whirled in his saddle.
Roland, battling the dogs, was dimly aware that the king was indeed coming, leaning forward on his horse, urging him to full speed. Then Lord Zarak grabbed his spear and put his spurs to his horse.
Completely exhausted, Roland saw the hounds scatter and heard Zarak’s cry of rage.
The king’s counselor, spear in hand, stopped not ten feet away. “You’ve had your run and now you die!” he screamed.
Roland saw the wizard’s arm go back. He saw the spear plunge forward. It drove toward him so quickly that all he could do was twist his body. The spear tore through his clothing and raked across his chest. Roland grabbed up the spear. At least now he had a proper weapon. He knew that Zarak would be coming at him next with his sword.
Indeed, the wizard had drawn his sword, but even as he rushed toward Roland, an arrow pierced the fleshy part of Zarak’s upper arm. Other arrows began hissing through the air. Zarak spun about to see his followers falling back.
Looking upward, Roland saw the edge of the canyon lined with bowmen in green. And then he heard someone shouting, “For Goél! For Goél!”
The king and the Lady Lara came off their horses, and she came running to him. “Roland,” she cried, “are you all right?”
“I’m all right. What are you doing here?”
“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.
Roland looked down at his chest. “Nothing serious.” Dazed, now he stared at the king, wondering what he was doing here.
But there King Falmor was, standing with drawn sword, watching Zarak, Cranmore, and the lords whirl to flee on their horses. Some appeared to be wounded. A few of their number were on the ground, lying still as dead men.
“Well, this battle is won,” the king said. There was a happy expression in his eyes. But then he said to Lady Lara, “You were right about Zarak. He is an evil man.”
At that moment, Roland saw the last of the fleeing lords draw a bow and let fly an arrow toward them. It was surely accidental. He had no hope of hitting anything, but the arrow struck the king in the side. Falmor gave a cry and staggered back. He had received what could be a deadly wound.
“Father! You’ve been hurt!”
The king looked down at the arrow. “My daughter,” he said weakly, “if I die, you will rule this kingdom. Do not let Zarak have any power over you.”
“Father, you will get well! You can’t die!”
“We’ve got to stop the bleeding,” Roland cried.
A moment later Goodman and the Sleepers rushed up. Josh and Sarah were among them. Roland could not take it all in.
Josh knelt down beside the king. “This is a bad wound,” he said. Goodman, who seemed to have had much experience with wounds, removed the arrow, but his face was grave. “Sometimes the lords put poison on their arrows, and the king looks deathly ill . . .”
“We must get him away from here,” Josh said grimly, “If I know Zarak, he’ll be back with the army.”
“Yes. Make a litter, quick!” Goodman said.
Roland watched two of Goodman’s followers trim saplings and use their outer garments to make a rough stretcher.
“Quick, now! We’ve got to get him away from this place!” Goodman urged. “We will go to Garn’s home. Bentain is the best for treating wounds.”
Four men carried the king. His face was pale, and his eyes were closed.
At Lady Lara’s insistence, Roland, beginning to feel weak, mounted the king’s stallion.
Then she mounted the mare, and side by side they rode behind the stretcher bearers. She looked at him, her face pale and her lips trembling. “He’s got to be all right. He can’t die.”
But Roland knew how serious the wound was. “We’ll hope for the best,” he said. He suddenly reached over and took her hand. “You came for me,” he whispered, and he lifted her hand and kissed it. Then he said, “Your father has proven himself to be noble indeed. Surely he will live to rule his people.”
13
Evil Tidings
The trip through the forest seemed painfully long, and the Lady Lara could not keep her concern from showing. One time, when tears were running down her cheeks, Sarah rode beside her. The girl leaned over and put a hand on Lara’s arm. “Take courage, my lady,” she said quietly.
“But he might die!”
“We Sleepers have been through many dangerous times, and all of us have been wounded at one time or another. Always we have been kept safely by Goél. He does what is best even when we don’t understand.”
“But Goél is not here.”
“He is not unaware, my lady, of your grief. You will see.”
After a roundabout journey, the procession arrived at the house of Garn. They were met by Garn and his wife and old Bentain.
“The king is here,” Goodman said quickly. “He must be cared for—he is grievously wounded.”
“He must take over our house,” Garn said. “It is poor enough, but he is welcome to all we have to offer.”
Goodman nodded. “Make a bed ready for him, then. And, Bentain, you must see to his wound. I did the best I could.”
Goodman supervised the moving of the king, and soon Bentain was tending to the wounded man. “It is a bad wound indeed,” he said. But he glanced at Lady Lara and said quickly, “Still, I have seen men with worse wounds recover.”
“Let me do something to help,” Lady Lara said.
“Sit beside him. That will help. I must go to the forest. There are certain herbs that, I think, will help his recovery.”
The king moaned, and Lara immediately went to him. “Father,” she said, “can you hear me?”
King Falmor’s eyes opened. “Lara, is it you?”
“Yes. It is I. You’ve been wounded, Father. Try to lie still. You’ll be well soon.”
The king smiled faintly, but it was clear that pain was racing through him.
“I will return quickly,” Bentain said, and he left the hut.
Lara attempted to comfort her father.
It was quiet in Garn’s hut. She looked about and saw that the dwelling was a single room with rude furniture carved from wood. At one end was a rough fireplace where the cooking was done and which would give off heat in the cold weather. There was only this one bed in the house. A ladder led up to a loft. She had never been inside such a place before. She whispered in wonderment, “And a whole family lives here!”
A shadow fell across her then, and she looked around to see Sarah and Roland enter. They stood silently beside the bed, and Sarah asked, “How is he, my lady?”
“Bentain thinks the
arrow must have been poisoned. He has gone to get something from the woods. Some sort of special healing herb.” She looked up at them worriedly. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.”
She was sitting on a rough stool, and Roland knelt beside her. Now his eyes were even with hers. “Do not fear, Lady Lara,” he said quietly. “You have friends here—and the Sleepers assure me that Goél has never failed. We must rely on him.”
Unthinkingly Lady Lara reached out her free hand, and he took it in his. “Don’t leave me, Roland,” she said. “I’m so afraid.”
“I won’t leave,” he promised.
Bentain returned after what seemed a long time. He said breathlessly, “I have found something that may help.” He quickly heated water and made a brew in an iron pot. The smell of it filled the small house with a pleasant aroma. He kept the pot over the fire so that the steam rose steadily. “It will do him good just to breathe this, but he must also drink as much as possible.”
It was difficult to get the king to drink, but Bentain insisted, “It is important that he drink a great deal of this.” He managed to get a swallow down, but then the king jerked his arm and spilled the rest.
Bentain shook his head. “We must give it to him a sip at a time.”
Even that proved to be difficult. Watching, Lara wondered at the kindness and concern shown by this old man of whom she had thought so little.
The hours went on, and Lara finally slumped on the stool. She felt herself being picked up, then realized that Roland was carrying her across the room. He placed her on a mattress. It was made of skins and seemed to be stuffed with straw.
“Sleep,” he said. “We will care for your father.”
“Don’t leave me, Roland.” She reached up her hand like a child, and he sat down beside her and held it.
When Sarah went outside Garn’s small hut, she found all of the Sleepers gathered at the doorstep.
“How’s the king?” Jake asked, and Sarah’s eyes met his with discouragement. “He’s worse, I think.”
“Isn’t there anything anybody can do?” Jake demanded. “If we only had a doctor!”
“I think most of the doctors around here wouldn’t be much help for this . . . special kind of wound,” Sarah said quietly.
Dave picked up on her words and her tone. “What are you thinking, Sarah?”
“That this is more than just an arrow wound. It’s likely Zarak had his men use some sort of poison on the tip of the arrow, and I think that is what’s killing the king. The wound itself wouldn’t do it. It doesn’t seem that serious.”
“I do wish Goél were here,” Abbey said, her eyes filled with grief. “He could help.”
“That’s what we’re all hoping for,” Josh said. “And if he doesn’t come soon, the king may die.”
“Well, one more time we’ll just have to wait,” Dave said.
“And I don’t like waiting.” Reb Jackson looked toward the forest with apprehension in his eyes. “If we get caught here by the soldiers of Lord Zarak, we’ll all be goners. Not just the king.”
That afternoon, Josh was by the door of Garn’s house when Goodman came running. “I must see the Lady Lara!”
Lara came out at once with Roland by her side.
They had left Bentain and Garn’s wife, they said, to minister to the king.
“I have evil tidings, my lady,” Goodman reported. His face was twisted with both anger and worry.
“What is it?” Lady Lara asked.
“It’s Lord Zarak, my lady.”
“What’s the wizard done now?” Roland demanded.
“He’s announced to the people that the king is dead!”
“What!” Lady Lara cried. “How could he dare do that?”
“He knows what he’s doing. If the king is dead, you are the next in line. And he has also announced that an evil group has kidnapped you after killing the king. The Seven Sleepers, he calls them. And, of course, my men and I are on his list of enemies, too. He says he’s going to rescue you. Then he will marry you and rule over the kingdom.”
“What do the people say?” Lady Lara asked, her eyes flashing. “Surely they can’t believe that.”
“I don’t think most of them do. But it doesn’t matter much whether they believe it or not,” Goodman said sadly. “They hate Zarak, but he has the power.”
“But what can we do?” Lady Lara exclaimed.
“How is the king?” Goodman said.
“Not well,” Roland answered.
“I trust that he will be well soon,” Goodman said, “but if he does not survive, what will you do, Lady Lara?”
The princess drew herself up defiantly and said, “I will never marry that evil man! Never!”
“Then you are in great danger. I fear that if you refuse to marry Lord Zarak, you too will meet with an ‘accident,’” he said, stressing the word “accident.” He added grimly, “Then the blame for that too could be put upon the Seven Sleepers and me.”
“That’s exactly what he’ll do, Lady Lara!” Roland exclaimed.
Josh was trying to think what the next step should be. “What else did you learn, Goodman?” he asked.
“That Lord Zarak is summoning all of his men. They’ll be sweeping the forest soon and looking behind every tree.” His voice was still grim. “Sooner or later they’ll find us, and we’re too few in number to fight such an army.”
Lady Lara then proved herself to be, indeed, a princess. She stood straight, and her eyes went to Goodman. “You have been a faithful servant, Goodman.” She looked around at her friends, and there was warmth in her look. “All of you Sleepers, I thank you for your kindness. You came to do us good, and you have received an ill reception.”
“We want to serve you, lady,” Josh said. “What shall we do?”
“Is there any place where we can move my father that would be safer than here?”
Goodman rubbed his chin, thinking, but then shook his head. “This is as safe a place as any. My men and I will try to discover the movements of Zarak. If the enemy comes this way, then we will have to flee.”
Lara nodded. “So we can only pray that my father will regain his strength. I must go to him now.”
The Sleepers watched her go back into the house.
“She’s changed a lot, hasn’t she?” Roland said quietly.
“She has. And so have you, Roland.” Josh grinned at him.
“Me!” Roland looked surprised. “Oh . . . well . . . I suppose I have. Being a slave teaches you things!”
Lady Lara learned much over the next two days. While she nursed her father, she got to know the family of Garn and his wife. She learned to love their two children. But the biggest change of all was that great pity came into her heart as she saw the poverty and fear in which they were forced to live.
“If my father and I ever rule again,” she told Roland late one evening, “things will be different. People like Garn and his family will be the object of our care. You will see!” She turned to him and asked earnestly, “Do you believe that, Roland?”
He nodded. “I believe it now. As Josh said, you have changed. And I have changed.” Then he seemed to remember something. “It’s the hard things, my father always said, that make people strong. If this hadn’t happened to me, I suppose I would have gone on being the same selfish person that I’ve always been.”
“Your father sounds like a wise man,” Lady Lara said. “I hope to meet him one day.”
Roland took her hand. “I hope, indeed, that you will.”
The princess said no more, and together they sat looking down at the pale face of the king who struggled for life.
14
A Small Miracle
Each day Lady Lara and the Sleepers lived in constant apprehension over the movements of Lord Zarak. Messengers came secretly from Goodman, who had his men tracking Zarak’s army—and usually they brought bad news.
“It is terrible,” one messenger said, a tall fellow named Coaltar. “Zarak is ev
en far more cruel than we had believed.”
“What is he doing?” Lady Lara asked.
“He is taking many hostages. He is throwing old people and young alike into the foul dungeons of the castle. He keeps spreading the rumors that the king has been slain by the Seven Sleepers and that you are held captive by them.”
Josh, who had been standing by, exclaimed, “We’ve got to do something about Zarak!”
Coaltar turned to him. “Why does he hate you Sleepers so much?”
“How do you know that he does?” Josh asked curiously.
“We have one sympathizer in his ranks. He tells us that Zarak seems to go mad whenever the Seven Sleepers are mentioned. Don’t let him take you alive,” Coaltar warned. “You will die slowly and in agony. But why does he hate you so?”
“Because we are the servants of Goél and he is an instrument of the Dark Lord.”
“Such things are too high for me,” Coaltar said, “but you would do well to stay out of his clutches.”
Lady Lara waited only until Coaltar left, and then she went back to sit beside her father. She took a quick breath for he lay very still, but when she laid her hand on his chest, she felt the slight rise and fall of his breathing. For a long time she sat beside him.
Roland came in after a while and sat across from her. “How is he?”
“He is worse. I fear he is dying, Roland.”
Roland did not disagree. Instead, he studied Lara’s face and seemed to be trying to find words that might encourage her. Perhaps he decided to turn her thoughts to something else, for at last he said, “I can’t stop thinking about what I was before I came on this mission.”
“What do you mean, Roland?”
Roland shifted his weight on the stool. “I mean that I was the most selfish human being that ever lived.”
Lara was able to smile briefly. “I doubt that,” she said. “I believe I was.”
He managed a smile, too. “But you don’t know what I was like. I thought only of myself; I was a bully. Anyone smaller, anyone that I could push around, I did. I don’t see how my parents or anyone else stood me.”
Savage Games of Lord Zarak Page 10