The Raptor of the Highlands

by Peter Wacht

  The pounding of the metal against the stone was mesmerizing, as scattered thoughts wandered aimlessly across their minds. For both, most of those thoughts involved Killeran, and what they would do to the rat-faced man when they gained their freedom.

  Finally, after another hour of work, which added another foot to the tunnel, it was time to return to the fort. Thomas and Oso waited patiently for one of the reivers to unlock the chains from their necks so they could slowly make their way out into the twilight of another day missed. When they emerged from the darkness, they were greeted by a red sunset just above the mountains. They didn’t have time to enjoy it, though. The two reivers pushed them up the path that led back to the fort.

  The walk along the curving path was actually enjoyable, though trudging along the rock-strewn ground with leg irons was a bit tricky, especially in the growing darkness. Several times Oso stumbled on a rock, but Thomas was there to keep him from falling. The reivers were not so lucky. As they came around the last bend in the trail leading up to the plateau that held Killeran’s fort, the shorter reiver with little hair tripped on a large rock. His friend tried to keep him from stumbling, but it only brought both of them crashing to the ground, with the shorter reiver absorbing most of the fall.

  Normally both Thomas and Oso would have laughed as the two tried to regain their feet without knocking themselves down again, but they were too tired. They simply continued on up the trail, ignoring the cries of the guards and forcing the two reivers to run after them. If Killeran saw Oso and Thomas walk through the gates without their guards, the reivers would probably be the next two bodies in the pit.

  The Highlanders had returned from the mines just before them and were being herded into their cages as Thomas and Oso walked through the gates of the fort, the deep mud sucking at their boots. With each step, the brown muck reluctantly let go. It was slow-going and treacherous.

  The lines to get back into the cages stretched halfway across the yard, as a reiver at the entrance to each cage counted off as a Highlander passed by, making sure that the same number who had gone to the mines in the morning also returned. As Thomas and Oso passed the first two lines, many of the Highlanders turned to watch them go by.

  Several nodded with respect to the two as they passed. Thomas helping Aric in the mines had spread like wildfire among the other Highlanders. Many had been in the cages for months and given up hope of ever escaping. As a result, they had forgotten what it meant to be free. Sadly, these people seemed to have lost their spirit and pride. The story of Thomas’ exploits had revived them. There was life in their eyes again, rather than apathy and hopelessness.

  Seeing that, the pain of Thomas’ burns disappeared. He had been away from his people for almost half his life, yet he never forgot what it meant to be a Highlander: the sense of honor and integrity, the courage and toughness. Killeran may have taken away his and his people’s freedom, but he could never take away what it was that made them Highlanders.

  They were approaching the third line of workers when Thomas realized that Oso had picked up his pace. This line moved faster than the others. There were only a handful of Highlanders still outside the cage. Turning in the direction of Oso’s gaze, he realized that his friend watched a girl standing at the back of the line. Probably only a year or two younger than themselves, she was pretty, even with the dirt and grime covering her short, auburn hair. Thomas understood why Oso couldn’t take his eyes from her. Then he saw what had really drawn Oso’s notice. Two reivers walked toward the girl. The malicious grins on their faces told Thomas everything he needed to know.

  “Trouble,” Thomas murmured.

  Oso nodded. His eyes were locked on the girl and the two reivers now standing behind her. Their lascivious sneers confirmed their intentions.

  “Go ahead,” said Thomas. “I’ll take care of these two.”

  “Keep your mouths shut,” said the short reiver walking behind Thomas. He still wasn’t happy about falling down and blamed the two boys for it rather than his own clumsiness.

  The two reivers behind the redheaded girl stepped forward. One put his hand on her shoulder, while the other pushed her out of the line and away from the cage. Confused for a moment, she quickly realized what was going on and tried to back away from her assailants. She was alone, and there was no one to help her. Her fear turned to terror. She wasn’t fast enough, though. The guard behind her tripped her with his foot, and the two reivers laughed uproariously as she tumbled in the mud. One of them leaned down and took hold of the chain around the girl’s wrists and began dragging her toward the barracks while the other reiver followed in anticipation.

  Oso ran forward as best as he could when the girl fell to the ground, hampered by the chains around his ankles. Nevertheless, his anger drove him forward. He refused to allow his people to be treated this way, much less a young girl.

  The guards behind him both let out exclamations of surprise at seeing one of their charges escape. The short reiver, who was only a few inches taller than Thomas, leapt forward in pursuit. He unceremoniously fell flat on his back in the mud, having run straight into Thomas’ fists. Though he couldn’t stretch his arms out wide, Thomas found that swinging both arms at the same time to be quite effective, especially with a length of steel chain attached. The short reiver lay motionless in the mud, his open eyes staring up at the sky, his neck broken.

  The taller reiver was a little quicker. He had already moved a few steps in front of Thomas, his dagger drawn. But he was focused on what was going on in front of him, not behind, so he didn’t see his friend’s demise. Thomas dove forward feet first. He’d never be able to catch the reiver with the chains around his legs. The mud that had hungered so much for his boots was now his best ally, allowing him to slide forward and tackle the reiver from behind. Thomas took the reiver’s legs out from under him and the man fell face down in the mud.

  Thomas regained his feet in an instant, scrambling forward on his knees, the chain around his hands gathered together to bring down on the back of the man’s head. It was wasted effort on his part. The reiver was so intent on the scene before him that he didn’t have time to brace himself. Falling on his own dagger, the sharp blade sliced into his gut. The life had already left his eyes when Thomas rolled him over.

  Tearing his eyes from the reiver’s lifeless gaze, Thomas saw that Oso had gotten there just in time, knocking over the reiver walking behind the girl, a tall, spare man with long brown hair. Having removed one obstacle, Oso jumped over the girl and, like Thomas, gathered the chains around his wrists into his hands.

  The reiver dragging the girl away had lost his grip on the chains and was bending over to take hold of her again, unaware of the approaching danger. As he looked up, he was greeted by the steel wrapped around Oso’s hands. The tremendous blow sent the reiver flying through the air. Before he could recover and draw his dagger, Oso was on top of him, bringing his fists down again and again on the man’s head and upper body.

  It took a few seconds for the tall, dazed reiver to realize why he was sitting in the mud. When he finally regained his senses, he climbed back to his feet with his dagger drawn. Oso was still pounding away on the other reiver with his back turned. The tall reiver ran forward, a vicious grin on his face.

  Before he could strike, Thomas was there, having slogged through the mud as fast as he could. Thomas launched himself over the girl and onto the back of the reiver. This one, at least, was smart enough to break his fall with his hands, but he couldn’t prevent Thomas from slipping his chains around his neck. Shoving the reiver’s face in the mud, Thomas rose to his knees and brought them down onto the reiver’s back, preventing him from rising. Crossing his arms, Thomas pulled upward with all his strength.

  The reiver grasped desperately at the chain crushing his throat. Thomas refused to lessen his hold as the reiver’s face slowly turned red, then blue. His actions became more frantic as he tried to throw Thomas off his back. Thomas only pulled tighter across the man’s
neck until finally the reiver’s hands fell forward into the mud, the strength having left his body with his last breath of air. Thomas remained where he was for a full thirty seconds, just to make sure.

  Thomas unwrapped the chain from the man’s neck, not bothering to look at his blue and swollen face. Rising to his feet, he was pleased to see that Oso was all right. He had eliminated the other reiver and was now comforting the girl, who was still too afraid to move.

  Thomas surveyed the courtyard. He was surprised by the almost total silence that met his ears. He and Oso seemed to be surrounded by statues. No one moved, neither the Highlanders nor the reivers. They were all too surprised by what had just happened. In only a few minutes he and Oso had killed four reivers.

  Thomas corrected himself. Actually only three reivers, since one of them fell on his own knife, though, he assumed, it was still their fault. Killeran would not be pleased. If Thomas was lucky, he would be going back for another of Killeran’s lessons in pain, and Oso would probably join him this time. If not, well, he didn’t want to think about that.

  Thomas smiled as he looked around. It felt good to finally act, rather than react. Ever since he had been captured, he had been led around on a leash. A sudden surge of pride ran through him.

  “I am a Highlander!” he yelled, his words echoing through the tiny valley. “I will be free!”

  It was a foolish thing to do, he knew. But it felt so good. He even heard a few cheers coming from the other Highlanders and sensed their pride.

  “You always have to make a scene, don’t you?” said Oso, a wicked gleam in his eye.

  He had coaxed the girl to sit up, though she still clutched his shirt and used his chest as a pillow for her head. It didn’t look like she was ever going to release him, and Thomas thought that Oso wouldn’t mind if that were the case.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

  His shout jolted the reivers in the courtyard into motion. More than a dozen ran toward Thomas and Oso with swords drawn. They slowed down to a quick jog when a few lost their balance in the mud. Oso pried the girl’s fingers from his chest and stood next to Thomas. If the reivers were as intent on killing them as it appeared, he and Oso didn’t stand much of a chance. But they certainly wouldn’t go out without a fight.

  Oso stepped a few feet to Thomas’ left, giving them both a little more room to maneuver. He made sure the girl was behind him. If nothing else, he promised himself that she would survive. Both Thomas and Oso prepared for the coming onslaught, bending their knees slightly and standing on their toes. Neither picked up a sword or dagger from one of the dead reivers. If they didn’t have a weapon, it might persuade the reivers not to kill them immediately. They weren’t afraid of dying, but they certainly wouldn’t mind avoiding it a little longer.

  One of the reivers outpaced his friends and charged toward Thomas with his sword poised above his head. Thomas had no doubt as to his intentions. His body tensed as he waited for the man to come just a little closer.

  “Stop!”

  The shout caught everyone by surprise, especially the reiver running toward Thomas. The other reivers, who were moving more slowly, came to a halt as they recognized the voice that had issued the command.

  The single reiver recognized it as well, but was moving too fast to stop as he slid through the mud. Seeing the predicament he was in, Thomas stepped out of the man’s way and let him slide past. A few yards later, the reiver lost his balance and fell heavily to the ground. His efforts earned himself several guffaws of laughter from the other reivers, who circled Thomas, Oso and the girl, their swords at the ready.

  Killeran stepped around his men, holding his untarnished white cape around one forearm to prevent it from dragging through the mud. His silver breastplate gleamed brightly, having just been polished for the third time that day.

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  “Please, Lord Killeran,” said the girl. “It wasn’t their fault.” She motioned toward Thomas and Oso. “Your men were trying to—”

  Killeran’s face grew a hot red. “Silence!”

  The girl stepped closer to Oso, now shaking with fear.

  “I don’t talk to slaves, girl. Remember that. Sergeant!”

  Kursool stepped forward, a look of evil on his face.

  “Sergeant, put the girl back into the cage and do her no harm.”

  Kursool walked between Thomas and Oso and grabbed the girl by the arm, pulling her back toward one of the cages. As she was dragged past Oso she took hold of his shirt.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Oso nodded in response.

  Killeran waited until she was gone before continuing. “The two boys acting like heroes once again.” Killeran counted the bodies. “And four of my men dead.” Killeran walked around the two slowly, careful not to fall in the mud. “We shall have to remove this streak of defiance from you, and I know just the way to do it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Searching in Vain

  The two hawks streaked across the sky, flying just above the treetops along the southern edge of the Highlands. Banking around the base of a mountain, they skimmed across a small valley before turning north. It was early evening, the sun no more than a tiny speck in the sky. A strange time for hawks to hunt. They normally searched for prey in the early morning, leaving the night to the owls.

  After circling around another mountain and following a small stream farther to the north, the two hawks landed in a small clearing deep within the Highlands. The darkness was almost complete as they settled to the ground near a tiny rivulet of water that ran down from a rocky outcropping. Two bright flashes of white light briefly interrupted the blackness settling over the mountains.

  “We’ll rest for an hour or so,” said Rynlin.

  Rya nodded, pulling out some bread and cheese from the small pouch on her belt. Rynlin did the same from his own.

  “I thought I sensed him for just a second earlier this afternoon, but I couldn’t pinpoint his location.”

  “So did I,” grumbled Rynlin in frustration. “It was for too brief a time, though.”

  Thomas’ grandparents had been looking for him for almost a month. They had waited at first, knowing that Thomas was often gone for a week at a time when he went to the Highlands. But when the faint contact they had with him through their necklaces disappeared, their worry and fear set in. They had found where he had last been before the contact was broken, picking out the signs of the fight that occurred there. Thomas had won the skirmish, but at what cost they didn’t know. He wasn’t dead. They would have known that immediately. But they couldn’t locate him. Some stronger force shielded the power of the necklaces, and that could mean only one thing.

  Rynlin settled down next to Rya on a large rock. Rya absently fingered the necklace hanging outside her shirt, tracing the curls of the unicorn’s horn. Rynlin sat there in silence. His wife tended to talk to herself when she was worried, and he had learned long before not to interrupt her mumbling.

  “That boy will not be wandering through the Highlands by himself ever again,” she was saying. “I don’t care if I have to take him over my knee. There is no way he will be out of my sight again. He’s too young to be out on his own. Much too young.”

  Soon her rambling became incomprehensible, and Rynlin didn’t pay attention anymore. Instead he stared off into space, a grim expression on his face.

  After a few minutes, Rya realized what she was doing. She looked over at her husband and saw that he had only taken a few small bites from his cheese. He needed his strength if they were going to continue searching for their grandson. Experienced as they were in the Talent, it still took a great deal of energy to change shape and maintain it for so long a time. She was going to remind him to eat some more, but decided against it.

  Rya had seen that black look on her husband’s face only a handful of times before, and usually under only the direst of circumstances. She decided against talking to him. His anger and frustration were plain
. Though gruff on the exterior, she knew that Rynlin cared for his grandson a great deal. Woe to any person who might try harming Thomas. When it involved a member of Rynlin’s family, his wrath knew no bounds.

  They sat there in silence for almost an hour, both munching on their cheese and bread but not really tasting it. Finally, Rynlin rose from his seat and walked toward the center of the clearing. Rya brushed the crumbs off her hands and followed.

  Twin flashes of bright white light again lit up the clearing. Two large hawks appeared, standing majestically where Rynlin and Rya had been. Without a sound, the birds of prey lifted off into the sky, their powerful wings quickly pulling them higher. They flew with a purpose. Their grandson was alive, for now. They promised themselves that they would find him, and when they did, whoever had taken him from them would regret it for the rest of their very short lives.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Block

  The lash bit into Thomas’ flesh, reopening a long cut across his back already encrusted with dried blood. The lash bit again and again and again, but Thomas refused to cry out, gritting his teeth against the sting. Each stroke sizzled against his skin, sending sharp spikes of agony through his body. That, along with the dozens of tiny burns that had not yet healed, made him feel like that’s all there was to life. Pain. Pain in which you could hide from the problems of the world, the struggles of your life, and slip away quietly to a calm and peaceful place. Where pain could no longer touch you. Where nothing could touch you.

  Thomas shook his head to clear the cobwebs. He was on the verge of unconsciousness again. He should have welcomed it. It eliminated the pain for a time. But there was a danger. He was afraid that sometime soon, he would drift off and never wake up again. His entire body was on fire. There was only one thing in his life right now, and that was the sharp flash of pain that surged through him when the lash struck his back or chest.