Guard.”
The man leaned close, his
stale breath making Darius want to recoil. “If I thought you were a member of
the Guard we wouldn’t be talking.” He smiled, a cruel grimace that made one of
his companions snicker and say “Want me to do ‘em?”
“Shut up,” the man said,
annoyed at having been interrupted. Once his compatriot had lowered his head in
obedience, he addressed the brothers once again. “One can’t be too careful in
the business I’m in. Trading information, that is. If I was to lead the wrong
sort of people to some of my contacts…well, let’s just say I’d like to keep my
skin.”
“You needn’t worry about us,”
said Darius. “We’re not here as the law or as spies.”
“So you say,” the man replied.
“And I want to believe you. I do believe you. Problem is, the first
mistake I make could be my last.”
The man pondered things for a
few moments, then turned to Luke. “You always so quiet?”
“With a knife at my throat,
yes,” Luke answered, returning the man’s hard look.
“Where are you from?”
“A farm perhaps thirty miles
from Old Bern, as the crow flies.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’ll give you mine when I’ve
heard yours.”
The man laughed, a short bark.
“That you shan’t have. You’re not easily cowed, I’ll give you that.”
Luke simply waited for the man
to go on.
“Where are you going?”
“We told you what we seek. We’re
moving toward Anson’s Furnace, since that’s where the Old Road heads, but it’s
not our destination.”
“Then what is your
destination?”
“I don’t know. We’re looking
for help, and we aren’t sure where, or if, we’ll find it.”
“Why does your friend here
have a uniform?”
Luke sighed. “I heard his
answer as plainly as you did, and I wouldn’t say different now even if it
weren’t the truth, which it was.”
The man plopped on the bed
next to Luke and pressed the knife more firmly against his throat. “You’ve a
smart mouth for one your age. Maybe I should do something about that.”
Before Luke could process the
threat and decide whether to reply or not, the room was shaken by a loud boom,
and a flash of light so intense that all within were blinded by it. He felt the
hands that held him go lax, and the knife moved away from his throat. He
started to sit up, but was overcome by a sudden and surprising wave of
dizziness. He fell back upon his pillow and lost the brief battle he waged to
keep his eyes open. In seconds he was fast asleep.
Chapter 4: A Touch of Magic
Darius awoke in what seemed a
familiar position, his back propped against a tree, the dull ache already
working its way into his muscles. Seeing a hooded figure bent over him, he
reached reflexively for his sword, but found only damp grass.
“Your weapon is safe, as are
the rest of your belongings,” said the figure, the voice soft and melodic. “You’re
welcome to it once you’re fully awake.”
Darius
strained to see the speaker’s face, but the meager moonlight was not enough to
penetrate the shadows cast by the hood. He suddenly felt panic rising inside
him and started to look about frantically.
The figure pointed, the hand
which emerged from under the cloak small and delicate, not skeletal as Darius
had irrationally feared. “Your brother’s over there. He’s fine. I’ll wake him
next.”
She started to rise and Darius
took hold of her arm. “Who are you?”
“A friend,” she replied. “At
least for now.”
He let her go and watched as
she ministered to Luke. She spoke to him quietly for a few minutes, then
returned to Darius. “Feeling more awake now?”
He nodded.
“Let me help you up. If you
feel dizzy, lean on me.”
He got to his feet, swayed
once, and then his legs found their strength. He took a few deep breaths, and
then released the arm she had proffered. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Once your brother is
up, we’ll be off. Those men who held you will be out a few more hours. I
The man leaned close, his
stale breath making Darius want to recoil. “If I thought you were a member of
the Guard we wouldn’t be talking.” He smiled, a cruel grimace that made one of
his companions snicker and say “Want me to do ‘em?”
“Shut up,” the man said,
annoyed at having been interrupted. Once his compatriot had lowered his head in
obedience, he addressed the brothers once again. “One can’t be too careful in
the business I’m in. Trading information, that is. If I was to lead the wrong
sort of people to some of my contacts…well, let’s just say I’d like to keep my
skin.”
“You needn’t worry about us,”
said Darius. “We’re not here as the law or as spies.”
“So you say,” the man replied.
“And I want to believe you. I do believe you. Problem is, the first
mistake I make could be my last.”
The man pondered things for a
few moments, then turned to Luke. “You always so quiet?”
“With a knife at my throat,
yes,” Luke answered, returning the man’s hard look.
“Where are you from?”
“A farm perhaps thirty miles
from Old Bern, as the crow flies.”
“What’s your name?”
“I’ll give you mine when I’ve
heard yours.”
The man laughed, a short bark.
“That you shan’t have. You’re not easily cowed, I’ll give you that.”
Luke simply waited for the man
to go on.
“Where are you going?”
“We told you what we seek. We’re
moving toward Anson’s Furnace, since that’s where the Old Road heads, but it’s
not our destination.”
“Then what is your
destination?”
“I don’t know. We’re looking
for help, and we aren’t sure where, or if, we’ll find it.”
“Why does your friend here
have a uniform?”
Luke sighed. “I heard his
answer as plainly as you did, and I wouldn’t say different now even if it
weren’t the truth, which it was.”
The man plopped on the bed
next to Luke and pressed the knife more firmly against his throat. “You’ve a
smart mouth for one your age. Maybe I should do something about that.”
Before Luke could process the
threat and decide whether to reply or not, the room was shaken by a loud boom,
and a flash of light so intense that all within were blinded by it. He felt the
hands that held him go lax, and the knife moved away from his throat. He
started to sit up, but was overcome by a sudden and surprising wave of
dizziness. He fell back upon his pillow and lost the brief battle he waged to
keep his eyes open. In seconds he was fast asleep.
Chapter 4: A Touch of Magic
Darius awoke in what seemed a
familiar position, his back propped against a tree, the dull ache already
working its way into his muscles. Seeing a hooded figure bent over him, he
reached reflexively for his sword, but found only damp grass.
“Your weapon is safe, as are
the rest of your belongings,” said the figure, the voice soft and melodic. “You’re
welcome to it once you’re fully awake.”
Darius
strained to see the speaker’s face, but the meager moonlight was not enough to
penetrate the shadows cast by the hood. He suddenly felt panic rising inside
him and started to look about frantically.
The figure pointed, the hand
which emerged from under the cloak small and delicate, not skeletal as Darius
had irrationally feared. “Your brother’s over there. He’s fine. I’ll wake him
next.”
She started to rise and Darius
took hold of her arm. “Who are you?”
“A friend,” she replied. “At
least for now.”
He let her go and watched as
she ministered to Luke. She spoke to him quietly for a few minutes, then
returned to Darius. “Feeling more awake now?”
He nodded.
“Let me help you up. If you
feel dizzy, lean on me.”
He got to his feet, swayed
once, and then his legs found their strength. He took a few deep breaths, and
then released the arm she had proffered. “I’m fine.”
“Good. Once your brother is
up, we’ll be off. Those men who held you will be out a few more hours. I
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