First Hero by Adam Blade Page B

its lips and growled hungrily. Its rider dismounted, seized the boy by the scruff of his collar, and threw him over the saddle.
    “He’s just a boy!” The pale-haired girl called Gwen ran out from an alley, gripping a poker. A laughing soldier lowered his spear as the slender girl rushed toward him. She ducked beneath the tip and swung her poker into his knee. He fell down with a cry, clutching his leg.
    She lunged at the rider who held her brother, but more soldiers grabbed her arms and forced the poker out of her hand. She writhed in their grasp, shouting, “Geffen, no! Don’t let them!”
    The boy looked helplessly at her, fear etched into his features.
    Gor addressed the crowd of terrified townsfolk. “If any of you are foolish enough to come after us, know this: We will kill the boy.” A grin spread across his face. “And I shall see to it that our best torturer makes it a very slow, very painful death.” He beckoned to his archers. “Burn it down.” He gestured to the village. “Smoke smells better than peasant.”
    Just then, Tanner saw Gwen rake her nails at one of her captor’s eyes. He fell back, clutching his face. For a moment, Gwen’s arm was free, but Gor stepped forward and lashed her against the cheek with the back of his hand. She sprawled onto the ground, crying out as her face scraped across the dirt.
    Tanner knew he had to take advantage of the distraction. He edged farther out, wondering if he could get to the varkule rider and free the boy.
    Gor’s archers wrapped rags around their arrows and then dipped them into little pouches of tar hanging from their waists. A soldier with a flaming torch ignited each arrowhead; then they put the flaming shafts to their bows.
    “Please!” shouted a man in the crowd. “You’ve done enough. Leave us in peace.”
    “Loose!” Gor shouted.
    The archers released their missiles. The flaming arrows arced into the air, trailing sparks and dense, oily smoke. They landed on the thatched roofs. Ravenous fire consumed the straw. An arrow thudded into a cart beside Tanner, and the straw inside went up in an instant. Across the town, he heard the crackle of dozens of fires starting. Tanner felt desperate. It was like Forton all over again.
    “Form up and march out!” bellowed Gor, climbing onto his stallion’s saddle. The soldiers regrouped in companies, boots stamping and armor clinking.
    Gwen rolled over, angry tears streaking down her cheeks. “Cowards!” she cried, turning to face the petrified villagers. She looked dizzy from the blow as she scrambled to her feet. “Why didn’t you help him?”
    As the soldiers marched out behind General Gor, the people of Colweir were emerging from their houses and rushing to the river with buckets and pans. Tanner could see smoke rising up over a wide swath of the town.
    Gwen stumbled and ran past Tanner toward the Mapmaker’s. He caught her arm and she spun around. “Let go of me!” she spat. “Who are you?” She had a purple bruise forming on her temple and a scrape down her face.
    “My name’s Tanner,” he replied. “These men attacked my village, too, just the other day. They killed my grandmother.”
    “ You led them here,” she said. “ You let them take my brother.”
    Firepos alighted beside Tanner, folding her wings with a hot rush of air. Her glassy eyes reflected the burning straw. Gwen took a small step away.
    “We’ll rescue him,” said Tanner. “I promise.”
    “Stay out of the way,” she said. “I don’t need your help.”
    She struggled to wrench her arm from Tanner’s grip. “Let me go!” she cried, thumping his chest with her fist. Tanner released her, and watched as she ran up the street.
    “You can’t take on General Gor’s army,” he shouted after her. “Not on your own!”
    “Who says I’m on my own?” she called back, before disappearing around a corner.
    Firepos flattened her body to the ground and Tanner hoisted himself onto her back.
    We have to save Geffen ,