knees, throwing his arms over his head.
‘Edmund?’
Aagard was standing over him while Gilbert’s men rushed around gathering spears, saddling horses. Edmund knew it would take them at least an hour’s riding to reach Medwel. He knew that Gilbert, as thane, was bound to do what hecould. But he could not watch the rescue party gather, nor look at Aagard’s face. He felt sick.
‘Edmund,’ the old man said again. ‘What ails you, boy?’
‘I saw it,’ Edmund murmured. And when Aagard seemed slow to understand, he cried angrily, ‘I saw them attacking Medwel! Armed men, just as Wulf said, all dressed alike. They had silver bosses on their shields.’ He stopped. He could not talk about the way they had mown down the people in their path, as coolly as a boy slashing wheat stalks. Nor about the way he had slashed too, revelling in the slice of steel through air. And bone.
Both Aagard and Elspeth were staring at him now.
‘But how could you know?’ Elspeth began.
Aagard hushed her with a gesture. His face was like stone, his eyes fixed on Edmund’s as he waited for him to continue.
‘Before we left the cave I had a dream,’ Edmund told them haltingly. ‘When we passed through Medwel yesterday I knew it was the same place, but it was so quiet, so peaceful. I said nothing about what I had seen. I thought no one would believe me.’
‘I would have believed you, Edmund,’ Aagard said quietly. ‘You spoke of men with a silver sphere on black shields?’ When Edmund nodded, the old man frowned. ‘I have known only one man who wore a shield mark like that. Orgrim.’
Edmund gazed at him, bewildered. ‘But why would he send men to burn Medwel?’
Instead of answering, Aagard froze for a moment. Then heflung up his arms to hide his face. ‘He is trying to use my eyes!’ he cried. ‘Close your eyes, both of you!’
Edmund did as he was told. The panic in the old man’s voice had chilled him to the bone.
‘Did I not say he was Ripente?’ Aagard muttered. ‘I felt him looking through my eyes – trying to see who was with me, who had survived the shipwreck.’
Edmund stared into darkness, his mind racing. Was Orgrim stealing into his mind that very second? How could Aagard tell?
But then he felt it. Something squeezed inside his head, as if the edge of his mind had been pushed aside. Almost at once the pressure was gone, but he was still aware of
something
: an absence like a hole in his thoughts. Carefully, as if probing a loose tooth, he felt for it again.
Then it hit him: a rush of consciousness that was not his own, chill and scouring as a snow-wind. There was malice too, the will to seize, make use of and then discard. It swelled to fill his whole head. Edmund fought back, but it was like pushing against a mist. Steadily his thoughts grew fainter and fainter, until they were little more than wisps of cloud blown in a windy sky.
With a distant sense of horror, Edmund felt himself dissolve.
Chapter Seven
Edmund felt Aagard’s steadying hand on his shoulder.
‘You can sense him, then.’ The old man’s voice seemed far away. ‘He cannot control you, nor hear you, Edmund. Try to close your mind to him!’
Edmund tried again to push back the invading presence. How could he shut it out? Perhaps if he could find the source …
Yes. There was an opening in the smooth, curved wall of his mind, and something not quite liquid was pouring through the gap like smoke. Edmund gathered his last ounce of purpose and tried to stop the gap.
Slowly, the other mind withdrew. Only the sense of malice remained – an evil gloating that said that although it was leaving now, it might soon return. And then it too faded, and the rip in Edmund’s mind closed up.
Edmund slumped against the fence, Aagard’s hand still on his shoulder. Elspeth looked from one to the other.
‘What happened?’ she demanded.
‘Orgrim tried to use Edmund’s eyes,’ Aagard said. His face seemed more lined than ever. ‘He
‘Edmund?’
Aagard was standing over him while Gilbert’s men rushed around gathering spears, saddling horses. Edmund knew it would take them at least an hour’s riding to reach Medwel. He knew that Gilbert, as thane, was bound to do what hecould. But he could not watch the rescue party gather, nor look at Aagard’s face. He felt sick.
‘Edmund,’ the old man said again. ‘What ails you, boy?’
‘I saw it,’ Edmund murmured. And when Aagard seemed slow to understand, he cried angrily, ‘I saw them attacking Medwel! Armed men, just as Wulf said, all dressed alike. They had silver bosses on their shields.’ He stopped. He could not talk about the way they had mown down the people in their path, as coolly as a boy slashing wheat stalks. Nor about the way he had slashed too, revelling in the slice of steel through air. And bone.
Both Aagard and Elspeth were staring at him now.
‘But how could you know?’ Elspeth began.
Aagard hushed her with a gesture. His face was like stone, his eyes fixed on Edmund’s as he waited for him to continue.
‘Before we left the cave I had a dream,’ Edmund told them haltingly. ‘When we passed through Medwel yesterday I knew it was the same place, but it was so quiet, so peaceful. I said nothing about what I had seen. I thought no one would believe me.’
‘I would have believed you, Edmund,’ Aagard said quietly. ‘You spoke of men with a silver sphere on black shields?’ When Edmund nodded, the old man frowned. ‘I have known only one man who wore a shield mark like that. Orgrim.’
Edmund gazed at him, bewildered. ‘But why would he send men to burn Medwel?’
Instead of answering, Aagard froze for a moment. Then heflung up his arms to hide his face. ‘He is trying to use my eyes!’ he cried. ‘Close your eyes, both of you!’
Edmund did as he was told. The panic in the old man’s voice had chilled him to the bone.
‘Did I not say he was Ripente?’ Aagard muttered. ‘I felt him looking through my eyes – trying to see who was with me, who had survived the shipwreck.’
Edmund stared into darkness, his mind racing. Was Orgrim stealing into his mind that very second? How could Aagard tell?
But then he felt it. Something squeezed inside his head, as if the edge of his mind had been pushed aside. Almost at once the pressure was gone, but he was still aware of
something
: an absence like a hole in his thoughts. Carefully, as if probing a loose tooth, he felt for it again.
Then it hit him: a rush of consciousness that was not his own, chill and scouring as a snow-wind. There was malice too, the will to seize, make use of and then discard. It swelled to fill his whole head. Edmund fought back, but it was like pushing against a mist. Steadily his thoughts grew fainter and fainter, until they were little more than wisps of cloud blown in a windy sky.
With a distant sense of horror, Edmund felt himself dissolve.
Chapter Seven
Edmund felt Aagard’s steadying hand on his shoulder.
‘You can sense him, then.’ The old man’s voice seemed far away. ‘He cannot control you, nor hear you, Edmund. Try to close your mind to him!’
Edmund tried again to push back the invading presence. How could he shut it out? Perhaps if he could find the source …
Yes. There was an opening in the smooth, curved wall of his mind, and something not quite liquid was pouring through the gap like smoke. Edmund gathered his last ounce of purpose and tried to stop the gap.
Slowly, the other mind withdrew. Only the sense of malice remained – an evil gloating that said that although it was leaving now, it might soon return. And then it too faded, and the rip in Edmund’s mind closed up.
Edmund slumped against the fence, Aagard’s hand still on his shoulder. Elspeth looked from one to the other.
‘What happened?’ she demanded.
‘Orgrim tried to use Edmund’s eyes,’ Aagard said. His face seemed more lined than ever. ‘He
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