“I did not say I would choose her now,” said Michael. ‘Besides, experience and judgment are not the same thing.”
“No, they’re not,” Aedan admitted. “But it usually takes the one to acquire the other. And sometimes, as I have recently discovered, the lessons can be rather painful.”
“Enough!” the goblin leader said, approaching them. “Time to move on.”
Aedan groaned as the wolfriders mounted up again. The banter had momentarily lifted their spirits, but now grim reality sank in once more. Fortunately, they proceeded at a slower pace this time.
They were obviously less concerned about pursuit.
They were deep in the Aelvinnwode now, and fast pursuit would be impossible. If a rescue party from Seaharrow had been sent out, it would have been difficult for them to pick up their trail, and even if they had, they would have been unable to proceed quickly through the thick forest of the Aelvinnwode.
Aedan held out little hope for rescue now. If they were going to get out of this somehow, they would have to do it on their own. And he held out little hope for that, as well.
He had long since lost all sense of direction, and the thick canopy of branches overhead meant he could not orient himself by the stars. Even if they could manage to escape somehow, he could not see how they could hope to elude the wolves. As he followed along, led on his leash by the wolfrider, his spirits sank lower and lower. He could not share Michael’s optimism, yet he marveled at the boy’s attitude in the face of their dire predicament. Perhaps it was just his youth. Maybe he really didn’t know enough to be afraid. Or perhaps he had underestimated Michael all along. In many ways, he was a stubborn, willful, spoiled child, but at times such as now, he seemed older than his years. Most boys his age would have been reduced to abject terror by their situation, but Michael did not panic. Even at twelve, he was keeping his wits about him, which was certainly more than Aedan could say for himself.
They did not stop again until well after dark. The goblins did not pitch camp or light a fire. They were in elven territory, and clearly did not wish to draw attention to themselves. Besides, they could see in the dark, and had their wolves for protection from predators. They simply stopped, unharnessed Michael’s litter, and leaned it up against a tree to rest the wolves pulling it, then sat down and ate some jerky from their packs. Afterward, they gave some to their captives. Aedan had no idea what it was, but the meat was quite tough and very salty.
Knowing what unsavory creatures goblins were, it was probably some sort of rodent. Still, he was so hungry he would have eaten saddle leather.
After they ate, the goblins settled down to sleep, either curled up on the ground or leaning back against the trunks of trees, their weapons close at hand. Aedan noted that two of them remained awake to stand watch.
After he ate and fed Michael some jerky and some water, they had tied him up again, both his hands and feet, so that he could do little more than squirm along the ground like a caterpillar. Still, at least he had been given a brief amount of freedom. Michael had remained tied to the litter ever since their capture, and when Aedan asked repeatedly if they couldn’t untie him for at least a little while, if only while they ate, one of the goblins cuffed him and told him to keep his mouth shut. It infuriated him; there was no reason for it other than pure meanness.
They were punishing him for his earlier outburst.
But Michael did not complain. At least they had removed his gag and left it off because he had stayed silent.
Feeling utterly exhausted from the long journey, Aedan curled up beside the litter to which Michael had been tied, and as he shivered with the cold, he became overwhelmed with despair. He saw absolutely no chance for escape. What bothered him most was his uncertainty about their fate. At worst, they would be killed in the end, and at best, they would wind up slaves, thralls to some goblin lord in Thurazor for the remainder of their lives. Better to die than live like that, he thought.
He felt sure he was right about Lord Arwyn.
Someone had certainly betrayed them, and he could not imagine who else it might be, who else could benefit from Michael’s death or disappearance. But if the plan called for him and Michael to be killed, why had the goblins bothered keeping them alive this long?
Perhaps because some sort of proof that they were alive would be required when the demand for ransom was delivered. Or perhaps because they really did intend to sell them into slavery. It was even possible the goblins had some other plans for them that he could not foresee.
His imagination started to come up with all sorts of lurid possibilities, which only increased his anxiety and made sleep difficult, despite his exhaustion. There was no sound from Michael, and Aedan assumed he was asleep until he heard his name whispered softly.
“Aedan? Are you awake?”
“Yes,” he whispered back. “I’m dead tired, but I can’t seem to get to sleep.”
“I think I’ve almost got my hands free.”
Aedan craned his neck to look up at him in surprise. “What? How?”
“When they tied me up, I tensed my muscles,” Michael whispered. “It was a trick I learned during our games. It gave me just a little bit of slack in the ropes when I relaxed, and I’ve been working at them ever since. Now I think I’ve almost got my right hand free.”
Aedan was astonished. Michael hadn’t been untied ever since their capture, which meant he had enough presence of mind right from the beginning to think about escape and he’d been working on the ropes all day long while they had traveled.
“I got a little worried when you asked them to untie me,” Michael continued, whispering softly.
“They would have seen I’d been working on the ropes and would have only tied me up tighter.”
Aedan heard Michael grunt softly. “There! Hold on….
A few moments later, Michael had untied the ropes holding his feet and crouched beside him.
“Lie still,” whispered Michael, as he worked at the knots on Aedan’s bonds.
A short while later, Aedan’s hands were free. He sat up and glanced around quickly to see if the goblins standing watch could see. He felt Michael’s hands working at the ropes around his ankles.
“I’ll get these,” the prince whispered. “You keep watch.”
Aedan marveled at the boy’s composure, but then he realized they were still a long way from being truly free. The goblins standing watch were actually sitting underneath a tree about fifteen or twenty yards away, playing some sort of game with dice. He could barely make them out, but he could see the motions they made as they tossed the dice and he could hear their voices. They were absorbed in their game and not watching them at all. But the guards were not their greatest worry.
As Michael got his feet untied, Aedan whispered, “What about the wolves?”
“I think they’re sleeping,” Michael whispered back, jerking his head toward where the beasts had all curled up together a short distance away. “They’ve come a long way, bearing riders, and they were fed just before the goblins went to sleep. If we’re very quiet, we might have a chance to slip away.”
“But the moment they realize we’ve escaped, they’ll wake the beasts and set them on us,” Aedan replied. “We’ll never be able to outran them!”
Michael’s face was close to his. “We have to try,” he whispered. “If we can reach that stream we crossed a while back, we can follow it and they will not be able to pick up our scent.”
“That’s good thinking. But it’s several miles, at least,” Aedan replied. “We’ll never make it!”
“Aedan … do you want to escape or don’t you?”
He bit his lower lip and nodded.
“All right, then. Come on.”
Slowly, they started to crawl away from the camp, taking great care not to make the slightest noise. It
was agonizing progress and, at any moment, Aedan expected to hear shouts of alarm behind them and the growling of pursuing wolves. His heart raced and his stoma
ch felt tight as he crawled behind the prince, trying to breathe steadily and evenly. He had never felt so afraid in his entire life. The thought of being brought down by wolves and torn to pieces was foremost in his mind as he carefully placed his hands and knees down, dreading to make the slightest rustling sound. Once, a twig snapped softly underneath his knee and he caught his breath and froze, but as loud as the sound had seemed to him, it went unnoticed.
After what seemed like hours, they were finally far enough from the camp to risk getting to their feet.
And then they started running for their lives.
**chapter four**
They plunged through the forest with Michael leading the way, his smaller size making it easier for him to dart among the trees and pass below low, overhanging branches. Aedan’s longer legs were not much of an advantage in the heavily overgrown terrain, besides which, he had been on his feet all day, running for miles, and he was dead tired. He tried not to think about the burning pain in his overworked leg muscles as he ran, concentrating only on putting one foot in front of the other.
And it seemed to take all his concentration.
They could not have run more than a hundred yards when he was already gasping for breath and stumbling. In the darkness, with the thick forest canopy blocking the moonlight, he could not see more than a few yards ahead of him, and he strained to keep up with Michael, whom he soon lost sight of and was only able to follow by the sounds of his running footsteps somewhere just ahead. And to make matters worse, his leg muscles started to cramp.
He did not know how much longer he could keep it up. He knew it wouldn’t be long before his muscles cramped so badly he could not go on.
If he could only make it to the stream … but he did not see how he could. Already, his left leg was starting to fail him, and he slowed as he was forced to trot with a limp in Michael’s wake. The important thing was for the prince to get away, he told himself. It would not be long before their escape was discovered and the wolves would be on the trail. There was no hope of outrunning them. None at all. However, if they caught him first, it might give Michael enough time to reach the stream and lose them. Then he might get away, if he were lucky.
Aedan winced with pain as his left leg cramped so badly that he could not take another step. He stumbled to a halt and supported himself painfully against a tree trunk. It was no use. He would never make it.
Go, Michael, he thought. Go, run for it!
In the distance, he heard the howling of the wolves as they picked up their trail. It felt as if a giant fist had suddenly started squeezing his gut. It was all for nothing. But maybe not. There was still a chance he could buy Michael some time. At least he would give his life in the service of his prince. Perhaps it would compensate for his dereliction of his duty in his affair with Laera. It was certainly no more than he deserved for having acted like a fool.
There was a sudden rustling ahead of him and he straightened, breathing heavily, prepared to meet whatever new threat could be facing hiirn, but it was only Michael. He had doubled back.
“Run!” Aedan shouted at him. “They have discovered our escape! Run for your LIFE! I will try to hold them off as long as I can.”
“With what?” asked Michael. “Don’t be stupid.
Come on!”
“I can’t,” said Aedan, wincing with pain. “My legs
…cramped…. I can’t go on. Save yourself.”
“I am not going to leave you,” Michael said. ‘Now come on, Aedan, lean on me….”
“Forget about me! I’ll only slow you down!”
“We go together or not at all,” insisted Michael, taking his arm and putting it around his small shoulders. “Now lean on me. Come on, you can do it!”
“It’s no use. We’ll never make it. You must go on without me.”
“Shut up and move!” said Michael.
They started off at an awkward, shambling trot, with Aedan leaning on Michael for support, but he knew it was hopeless. The stream was still at least a mile or two away. The wolves would catch them long before they reached it.
“Michael … please. .
“Shut up and run, Aedan,” Michael said, through gritted teeth.
“I can’t. The pain..
“Forget the pain. Pain is only a sensation.”
If their situation hadn’t been so desperate, Aedan would have laughed at the sheer lunacy of such a statement. And yet, somehow, it helped.
He grimly set his teeth and increased his pace, trying not to lean too hard on Michael, who barely came up to his chest. The howling had stopped now, but that was only more ominous. It meant the wolves were on the stalk. They would be gliding almost soundlessly through the forest, following their scent, their jaws agape, their tongues lolling, goblin riders on their backs. Death was racing toward them on padded paws. They would undoubtedly spare Michael, at least for a time, but they did not need Aedan and there was no question in his mind he would be killed as an object lesson to the prince to prevent further escape attempts. If only Michael hadn’t stopped….
He thought he could hear faint rustling sounds behind them, but he wasn’t sure. They were no longer trying to move quietly. There was no longer any point. They were trying to move as quickly as possible, but even if they could run at full speed, it still would not be good enough.
It would take nothing less than a miracle to save them now.
Haelyn, help us! Aedan thought. Don’t let it end like this! If not me, at least save Michael.
t They came to a small clearing, overgrown with a carpet of moss and lacy ferns, strangely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the trees. Aedan did not remember their passing this way before. He thought they were headed back roughly the way they came, but he was no longer sure of anything except that they would never reach the stream.
He cursed himself for not being stronger and having more endurance, for having succumbed to Laera’s charms, for having failed his prince.
If Michael had not stopped to help him, he might have made it and the wolves would have lost his scent as he splashed through the shallow water, following the streambed for a distance before jumping out on the opposite bank and heading back the way they came. The goblins would know, of course, which way he was headed, but the forest was thick, and there was a chance he might have been able to elude them, or meet a rescue party, if one had been sent out…. In any event, it was all pointless speculation now. They had tried, and they had failed, and Aedan knew it had been all because of him. They began to cross the clearing, but before they could get more than a dozen yards, a low growling froze them in their tracks.
A pair of lambent eyes appeared in the darkness ahead of them. And then another. And still another.
Aedan’s heart sank. The wolfriders. The wolves had not only caught up to them, they had passed them, and now they stood surrounded, in the center of the clearing, the threatening growls of the wolves coming from all sides.
“We are undone,” said Aedan with bitter resignation. ‘Forgive me, my lord.”
“Well, we shall simply have to try again another time,” said Michael.
Aedan snorted as the wolfriders moved into the clearing, hemming them in. “I fear there will be no other time for me.”
“I shall not let them kill you,” Michael said firmly.
Aedan shook his head. “Whatever happens, you must not try to interfere,” he said. “You must try to live, for however long you can.
Perhaps there is still hope.”
But he did not really believe that. For him, at least, it was over.
Eighteen years, he thought. A short LIFE,
but a good one. He could not really complain. He drew himself up, ignoring the pain in his leg, and decided that no matter what, he would do his best to make a good end. The prince would not see him die like a coward.
As the wolfriders approached, a cold wind blew through the clearing.
And, unfathomably, the wolves appeared to hesitate. They raised th
eir heads, nervously sniffing the air, and several of them gave uneasy little whimpers. The goblin leader glanced all around, sharply.
“Bows!” he commanded.
By all the gods, thought Aedan, they are going to shoot us both! But then he realized he had misunderstood the command. The wolfriders had unlimbered their crossbows and drawn their swords, but they were looking all around them, not at Aedan and Michael but at the brush on the outer borders of the clearing. The wolves were acting skittish.
Several of the riders were having difficulty controlling their feral mounts.
Suddenly, the wind came once again and all the wolves began to howl.
It was a bloodcurdling sound, but it was not the baying of wolves about to move in for the kill. There was a tone of terror to their cries.
And then one of the wolfriders cried out and clapped his hand to his cheek. Another one cursed, and also brought his hand up to his face.
Aedan could not understand what was happening. Then the air above the clearing was full of soft, hissing noises, and rain began to fall.
The goblins were shouting and batting at the air around them. The wolves were dancing about, darting to the left, then to the right.
Several of them had log thrown their riders and bolted into the trees.
“what’s happening?” asked Michael.
Aedan shook his head, mystified. “I don’t know.”
It looked as if rain were falling, sheeting down, but inexplicably, they were not getting wet. whatever it was that was coming down from the sky was not touching them, but was falling on the goblins and the wolves, coming down very, very fast…. Aedan crouched and touched the ground before him.
Pine needles!
Thousands of them, hundreds of thousands, were raining down from the trees, but they were not merely falling, they were hurtling down with incredible speed and force, hissing through the air like a storm of tiny arrows. The upper arms and faces of the goblin wolfriders, wherever there was bare skin, resembled pincushions as the pine needles struck them with such force that they became embedded in their flesh.
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