Fennic burst out laughing. “You’re pretty funny for a kid. And no, you can’t talk me into letting you go. I’ve got to fulfill my end of the agreement. This is what I get paid for.”
“So everything you do is simply for money?” Christopher asked with contempt. “You don’t care who you hurt or what trouble you cause?”
“Pretty much. I’ve got to earn a living,” Fennic casually replied as he gently swayed with the gait of his horse. “However,” he said, glancing back at Christopher, “if you’re willing to pay me more than Morgus Vandar, I’ll be happy to set you loose and forget I ever laid eyes on you.”
“Like that’ll happen,” he muttered.
“Then on to the castle!” he stated in mock cheerfulness. He patted his horse and studied the terrain ahead.
Christopher trudged onward through the thick and dewy grass, swatting away a few mosquitoes that followed him. He let out a disgusted stream of air through the corner of his clenched lips after he accidentally knocked himself on the forehead with a fist.
“This day is only getting better and better,” he growled to himself as the mosquitoes buzzed around his head like mini airplanes.
Fennic took a last bite out of his apple and tossed the core into the tall grass. Christopher sat under the shade of a small gangly elm, his bound wrists resting on his bent knees. The other end of the rope was tied securely around the tree trunk. He munched distractedly on an apple, his mind churning with ideas of escape.
“Finish that quick,” Fennic said. “We have a few more miles to go.”
Christopher looked up, his face stony and grim. “Why don’t you travel on the road? It’d be a lot faster.”
“Then we’d arrive too soon. Morgus ordered me to keep you away from the castle until after the coronation.” Fennic scratched his chin. “Seems you have a reputation for interfering in matters where you don’t belong. A knack for disrupting other people’s plans. He doesn’t want you anywhere near Prince Jeremiah before he is crowned King.”
“There are others working against him,” Christopher said, defiantly throwing his apple away. He stood and glared at Fennic. “You may have me out of the picture, but we’re not defeated yet. Powerful people are closing in on your impostor prince right now. Belthasar will get what’s coming to him.”
“He’ll get the crown,” Fennic replied. “You know I’m right. All your talk about defeating us is just talk. Belthasar is too powerful to fall this time. He devised a brilliant plan and caught everyone off guard. I’m proud to work for someone with such a genius intellect.”
“You’d work for a pig in a mud hole if he paid you enough. I think you’re cracked in the head,” Christopher said. “That’s your problem.”
“Hmmm… Maybe,” Fennic said, walking toward the tree with a crooked smile. “You’re stinging criticism might have given me something to think about–if only I cared!” He grunted and began to untie the knot around the tree trunk.
“That’s your other problem,” he said. “You don’t care.”
Fennic looked up with feigned sadness. “Poor me. Well, I guess I’ll learn to live with it.” He chuckled heartily as he again busied himself with untying the knot.
“Just don’t expect me to,” Christopher muttered.
With Fennic’s back to him for a moment, Christopher bent down and grabbed some of the slack in the rope and took off like a shot, running a tight circle around the tree and slamming Fennic squarely into the trunk so that his nose scraped against the bark. He groaned in pain, and before he realized what was happening, felt the tug of the rope as it bound him against the tree. Christopher sprinted a second and third circle around Fennic, pulling on the rope with all his strength after each pass.
“Stop it!” Fennic screamed, feeling the movement in his arms restricting. He reached for the knife on his left side as best he could, wriggling one hand toward the leather sheath. “You’ll wish you were a prisoner back in that castle when I get through!”
“Like I care what you think!” Christopher shouted, rounding the tree two more times so that the rope wound around Fennic’s legs which put him slightly off balance.
Christopher stopped suddenly opposite Fennic with the tree trunk between them. He planted a foot at the base of the elm and pulled the rope with all his strength. Fennic squirmed and writhed in pain. With the side of his face pressed to the tree, Fennic fumed while Christopher tried to undo the knot around his wrists with his teeth.
Fennic struggled to reach his knife. “I’m warning you!”
Christopher yanked on the rope, causing Fennic to exhale sharply. “I’m warning you! I’ll pull this rope right through your skin if you don’t shut your yap.” He worked at the knot like a squirrel gnawing on a peanut shell, slowly beginning to undo the rope.
“You’ll pay for this,” hissed Fennic, his fingers finally grasping the tip of the knife handle. He slowly inched it out of the sheath.
“Yeah, yeah…” muttered Christopher, concentrating on the knot. He gave one more tug at the rope as a warning to Fennic.
Fennic closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then placed the knife blade on a strand of rope against the bark and tried to cut through it without Christopher noticing. “I suppose I must congratulate you,” he said, his demeanor now one of calm resignation. “You appeared to have defeated me, which is something I’m not used to.”
“Save your breath.”
“Just offering my opponent a compliment.” Fennic swallowed hard as he worked the knife against the rope. “You don’t intend to leave me stranded here if you manage to undo that incredibly complicated knot and escape, do you?”
Christopher eyed him matter-of-factly. “Wild animals need to feed, don’t they?”
“I suppose you think people like me deserve such a fate,” he sighed.
“You’ll find a way out,” Christopher said, growing weary of his talk. “All I need is a head start. Oh–and your horse.” He smiled smugly and returned to freeing himself.
“Well, if I was in your place, I’d be doing exactly what you are,” Fennic replied. “You’re quite resourceful.”
Christopher rolled his eyes as he undid part of the knot, tugging on the rope once more for good measure. “If you think you can distract me with phony praise, think again.”
“You’re too clever to be distracted,” he said, a snakelike smile spreading across his face. “I simply meant that you’re doing whatever it takes to survive.”
“Whatever…”
“And so am I,” he whispered to himself.
Christopher heard the stretch and groan of the rope just before it gave way. It snapped where it had been cut, sending him tumbling backward into the grass. Fennic hollered in pain as the loosened rope twisted across his body, but then he quickly spun around the tree once he was free and grabbed the cut end with one hand, clutching his knife in the other. Christopher saw him coming and scrambled to his feet and bolted, but Fennic was too quick and held onto the rope, wrapping it securely about his wrist.
Christopher knew he had only precious seconds before Fennic would catch up or pull him backward off his feet. So as Fennic tried to get a firmer hold on the rope, Christopher grasped his end and yanked it as hard as he could, causing Fennic to lurch forward into the wet grass. He groaned in pain as his knee punched the ground and the rope cut into his skin. But before Fennic could get to his feet, Christopher took off like a shot, making Fennic continually lunge forward in a drunken stumble as the rope bit into his flesh.
“I’ll wring your neck if I get hold of you!” he roared between falls.
Christopher ignored his threats and drove forward. Fennic acted like an anchor he was forced to drag along and Christopher quickly tired out. His lungs burned and his arms ached, and he didn’t know how much longer he could continue. Then he saw a huge mud puddle ahead and knew exactly what to do.
“You stop right now!” Fennic yelled, gasping for air.
Christopher quickened his pace with renewed v
igor, pulling on the rope often so that Fennic could never get a proper foothold. As he neared the puddle, Christopher slowed down to build up some slack in the rope, then leaped across the water and rolled into the grass. Fennic was jerked forward headfirst into the muddy mess, splashing wildly like a large fish in a shallow pond. Christopher planted his feet on the ground and repeatedly pulled the rope, yanking Fennic’s arm forward until he howled in pain. The rope sliced into his skin and the dirty water stung him. Christopher wouldn’t let up as Fennic thrashed about, slipping on the muddy bottom each time he tried to stand.
“I can do this all day if I have to!” Christopher shouted, now more angry than tired. He pulled Fennic into the puddle one more time.
Fennic spit out a mouthful of dirty water and screamed, strands of wet hair plastered over his eyes and mouth like seaweed. With his wrist burning in agony and unable to catch a full breath, he finally relented. Using what little strength he had left, Fennic cut the rope with his knife and rolled out of the puddle onto his back, groaning in exhaustion and defeat.
Christopher steadied himself as Fennic cut the rope so he wouldn’t fall backward, then ran as fast as a rabbit with the rope trailing behind like a slithering snake. He headed for a patch of scrub brush cloaked in fog as Fennic shouted from the ground like a madman. As soon as he was safely hidden in the mist, Christopher shifted direction and ran some more, not sure where he was going and not really caring. He gathered up the rope as he scurried through the tangles of wet and knotty grass. All he knew now was freedom and exhilaration as his spirit soared like a rocket into space.
Christopher wandered for an hour until he was sure he had eluded Fennic. He untied his hands and rubbed the pain out of his wrists, but saved the rope in case it might come in handy. He drifted in and out of the fog, crossed a stream or two and hid among tall grass and scrub brush as the terrain changed, all the while wondering if he was merely going in circles. Christopher hoped to find the river, then maybe he would have a chance to stop the first horseman. He recalled that the man was ordered to set up camp near a bend in the river by a large outcrop of rocks. Easy enough to find, Christopher thought, assuming he could first find the river. But how could he stop the other twelve men, including Morgus Vandar who was now somewhere near the castle? Though Christopher didn’t want to admit it, he believed the invasion of Endora would happen despite his best effort.
As the sun climbed higher behind a fleet of clouds, Christopher estimated it would shortly be noon. The coronation would begin about an hour later. He hoped Molly and Rosalind were having better luck. A part of Christopher simply wanted to lie in the grass and sleep, hoping he’d wake up from a terrible dream or that somebody else would solve this problem for him. But even if he found help, how could they stop all the horsemen from signaling the attack once Morgus Vandar sent up the first plume of smoke?
Christopher kicked a tuft of grass and shouted in frustration, then sat down for a moment to rest. He glanced at the dreary sky and wondered how he arrived at this time and place. How could a fifteen-year-old boy stop an invasion? Growing up, he and Molly had played all sorts of games in the fields and barn near their old home, imagining themselves in similar situations. But they also found a solution to save the day, no matter how farfetched. Games were great for firing up the imagination, Christopher realized, but they didn’t count for much in the real world when your back was to the wall.
He sighed and willed himself to his feet, knowing he had to go on. He plodded through the wet grass, his sneakers and socks muddied and soaked. A mosquito buzzed annoyingly around his head. Then he stopped suddenly and smiled, recalling distant memories. Games! Now it suddenly made sense. Now there was a way to succeed. Christopher remembered all the games he and Molly had enjoyed playing on rainy days, and the soothing clatter of a handful of black and white rectangular dominoes echoed in his mind. He realized that he didn’t have to stop all of the horsemen, but only one. Like a string of toppling dominoes, if they were spread far enough apart, you needed only to remove a single piece to halt the chain reaction dead in its tracks.
Christopher’s heart swelled with renewed hope, and he knew he merely had to stop that one man by the bend in the river to thwart the invasion. Let Morgus Vandar send a plume of smoke high into the sky. If the second man couldn’t answer, then all the other horsemen farther south wouldn’t see anything and so wouldn’t send their signals either. Christopher hoped that word could be sent to Endora in the meantime to repel the troll and goblin soldiers waiting in the nearby hills.
Christopher took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Before his enthusiasm carried him away, he knew he still had to find the horseman and stop him, the one domino to break the chain. But where was the river? Christopher decided to take a best guess and run in one direction. He had to try.
Then he heard noises in the distant fog. A twig snapped. Footsteps in the grass. Fennic had found him.
Christopher grabbed a small rock on the ground and scrambled a few yards and took cover behind a clump of tall grass. He wasn’t going to give Fennic a chance to catch him a second time. He poised himself to attack, his heart pounding and his breaths short. Soon a dark figure veiled in the fog just yards away slowly approached. Christopher gripped the wet rock like a pitcher about to fire a baseball across home plate.
“Where are you, Christopher?” a deep voice called.
Christopher shuddered, unable to distinguish the voice, but didn’t dare respond and give away his hiding place. He watched as the figure grew lighter and lighter in the roiling fog, gradually coming into focus. He gripped the stone so hard that his knuckles ached. The man walked closer. Christopher rocked on his feet, ready to attack and run. Beads of cold sweat rolled down his face. Then the cloaked figure removed his hood and Christopher saw his wind burned face as plain as day. A pair of blue eyes framed by a tangle of light brown hair stared back at him. Christopher inhaled sharply and relaxed his grip. The stone fell from his hand as he leaped out from behind the grass.
“Ulric!” he cried, his mind reeling with joy. “Am I glad to see you!”
“The feeling is mutual,” Ulric replied with a sigh of relief. He shook Christopher’s hand and grinned. “I heard your shout a moment ago. My scouts and I have been looking for you for hours ever since we received Molly’s message.”
Christopher’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “You heard from Molly? How?”
Ulric explained that a carrier pigeon had arrived at one of the outposts a few hours ago with a dire message for King Rupert from Molly. Riders immediately took to the road to find the King, knowing that he was traveling to Solárin for the coronation. King Rupert quickly dispatched scouts to locate Christopher in the wild.
“Did Molly’s note mention Belthasar’s return?” he asked. “Did she tell King Rupert about the invasion?”
“Yes, but only in the sketchiest terms. The note was brief and her handwriting hurried. Molly apparently had little time to write it. She mentioned that she and Rosalind were trapped inside the castle.”
Christopher’s heart sank. He told Ulric how he, Molly and Rosalind had escaped from the storage room. “Maybe they were captured again. They were hoping to stop the coronation while I left to follow Morgus Vandar.”
“Tell me everything you know, Christopher.”
So Christopher explained the details of Belthasar’s return through the timedoor and how his spirit had overtaken Prince Jeremiah. He also gave a brief review of Morgus Vandar’s plan to launch an invasion of Endora. “Once the last smoke signal is sent, the trolls and goblins will attack. But I know where one of the horsemen is supposed to be waiting. If we can stop him, we can stop the invasion. I think.”
Ulric was impressed with Christopher’s plan and agreed it was their only option. “King Rupert has already dispatched other scouts and carrier pigeons to Endora to warn his soldiers at home, but whether they can get word there before the invasion begins is anyone’s guess. Time is our enemy right now.”
“It’s not far,” Ulric said, leading the way. “I recall the outcrop of rocks near the river’s bend. My horse is tied up nearby. We should reach it shortly.”
Christopher pumped his fist. “Great! Being two against one, we should stop this clown with no problem.”
“Then three against one should increase our chances even more,” Ulric replied as they approached his horse tied up to a small shrub. Another horse stood nearby munching on some grass. A slight breeze stirred and the fog began to dissipate.
“Three?” Christopher asked. “Did you pair up with one of the other scouts?”
“You might say that,” a voice responded behind him.
Christopher spun around and saw another man wading waist high through a snarl of spindly thorn bushes. He stepped out of the thicket and marched over to Christopher with a beaming grin.
“Dad!” he shouted, running to his father and hugging him like a bear.
Mr. Jordan held his son, feeling as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. He gently held Christopher’s face and looked into his eyes to make doubly sure this moment wasn’t a dream.
“Seems you can’t step through that timedoor, son, without landing in an ocean of trouble,” he said with a mix of laughter and tears. “Your mother and I were worried sick when we read Molly’s note to King Rupert. What happened?”
Christopher explained to his father everything he had told Ulric, and Mr. Jordan vowed to do anything he could to help defeat Belthasar. All agreed to try to locate the horseman by the river as there would be no possible way to return to the castle in time to stop the coronation. They would leave that task to King Rupert, Molly, Rosalind and others. If they couldn’t foil Belthasar’s plan, then nobody would.
Ulric climbed on his horse, and with a snap of the reins, headed toward the river. Christopher and Mr. Jordan followed on the other horse, swishing through wet grass and bramble, hoping they weren’t too late.
The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 36