“I suspect we were too late for the girl.”
“What do you think I’m carrying?” She asks. “She’s still breathing.”
“I don’t think that’s her.” He replies. “I think they already killed her. Back at the castle wall. They said that was Melissa. I know it’s a common name, but I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“We won’t know for sure until we get them to safety and can wake them up. I’ve no idea why they haven’t woken, were out of the fire and it’s freezing out here.” She looks puzzled.
“I have the answer for that one.” Lightning says, adjusting the girl’s position across her shoulders. “I’ll show you both later, but it’s nasty and deliberate. Someone wants them all dead, but tried to make it look like an accident.”
“It was the same with the girl at the wall. They made it look like she fell off, from what people said.”
He shifts the weight of the man he carries.
“We need to get these three out of town without being seen. They might’ve been watching the fire to make sure everyone died, so keep your eyes open.”
“Oh, I will.” Wildcat replies. “All three hundred of them.”
“It’s a shame we can’t take them back to the Tavern.” Lightning changes her grip on the woman. “Life would be so much easier if we could just take people to the Tavern when they were in trouble.”
“Wouldn’t it just.” The other girl replies. “I did try once.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I couldn’t cross the threshold with them, and they couldn’t see the doorway. They thought I was mad and that I was trying to crush them against a wall. I didn’t bother trying again.”
“Something similar happened to me in the early days.” Filippo points to his right.
“According to Gwen’s notes there’s some kind of barred exit from the town down there. It’s an old stream they’ve built over the top of. You can access it before it goes underground.”
“Why don’t we just walk out between the buildings?”
“Because the guards on the edge of town would see us walking away with three bodies over our shoulders, and they might stop us.”
He replies shaking his head.
Wildcat laughs. “I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight. It must be the smoke.”
“Never mind the smoke,” he nods at her burnt jacket, “you’re going to need some new clothes too.”
She grimaces. “If I’d known we were going to run into burning buildings I wouldn’t have worn woollens. It’s a good job it was snowing, that made it easier to put the flames out. It didn’t do much for your hair though did it?”
They reach the entry to the water tunnel which, unfortunately, is not as tall as Filippo had hoped it would be.
He mutters to himself.
“What?” Lightning asks.
“I was just thinking how much easier this trip would be if it was a new moon and not a full moon.”
He shakes his head, crouches to check the height of the tunnel and tries to work out some way of getting his survivor through the water without floating him in it.
Just then his burden begins to stir as do the others.
“Prop them up against the side here and splash water on them. If we can get them conscious, they can walk out of here. That’ll make things easier all round.”
“What? What’s going on? Who are…”
He clamps his hand over the man’s mouth. “Shush. Someone tried to kill you all in a fire. They may still be after you, we have to be quiet.”
He looks into the man’s frightened eyes seeking signs that he has understood. “We’re in danger. You have to be quiet, do you understand?”
The man struggles cease and he nods.
“I’m going to take my hand away now. Please don’t make any noise, we’re not going to hurt you.”
He removes his hand and the man stands still, looks around himself and sees his wife and daughter and rushes over to embrace them. The women begin to cry.
“Please.” Wildcat asks. “Try to be quiet. Like my friend here said, we may still be in danger. We have to get out of the town.”
“What about our house, our things — and where’s Melissa?” The wife asks.
“We’ll explain everything later, please, we have to get moving before they try to kill you again. We can get out through the river tunnel.”
“No we can’t.” The man says. “It has an iron gate at the end, they keep it locked so people can’t get in that way.”
Filippo smiles. “Believe me, sir, that’s not going to be a problem.”
Several minutes later they’re standing against the bank of the main river, the twisted remains of the iron gate behind them as Filippo bends and washes the rust from his hands in the slow flowing water.
“They may need to replace that.” He suggests, nodding at their exit point and smiling.
“Is there anywhere we can take you that’ll be safe?” Lightning asks the family.
“Do you have Melissa?” The mother asks again. “Do you know where she is? She went to get water not long ago.”
Deciding that keeping moving was the better alternative, Lightning replies.
“I’m not sure where she is, but we don’t have time to worry about that at the moment. We have to get to safety. Somewhere that they’ll not look for you. Do you have any ideas?”
“Who are they?” The father asks.
“Bad people. Very bad people who want you dead. Now, where can we take you?”
“There’s an old cabin.” The man looks thoughtful, then points to the forest. “It belonged to my cousin. He passed away a few years ago and left it to me. Nobody knows about it. We could go there.”
“That sounds perfect.” Filippo smiles. “Let’s take you there and get you warmed up, then we can talk.”
The moonlight flickers off the eddies and whirlpools at the edge of the wide river as they stay close to the sandy bank, which it has carved from the surrounding landscape, and make their way to the west.
Chapter 10
Certain that no one can see her, Lightning heads to the woodpile and hefts the axe.
The weight and balance are good even though parts of the head have rusted, through long exposure to the weather. She sets the first log on top of the tree stump and with an easy swing she splits it in half.
Now she has a feel for it, she increases her speed, for that’s her gift and how she acquired her name. Soon she’s a blur and a pile of firewood is appearing next to her.
The snowy ground between her and the woodpile doesn’t only melt, it begins to steam.
Half a minute later she slows, hefts the axe hard and slams it back into the tree stump to keep the blade sharp. She pats the handle of the warm wood approvingly and nods, laughing as a low, deep rumbling sound fills the small clearing, caused by her stomach.
“Yes, that will build up quite an appetite won’t it?”
She spins around, startled. She was sure she was alone. She looked. She checked while she was working. She knows she was alone, but now an old man stands by the woodpile smiling at her, leaning upon his strange white staff.
She looks to see if anyone else has appeared as she draws the thin, sharp sword that was forged just for her, flicking the point in his direction.
“Who are you?” She holds the tip in line with his throat.
“Haven’t you heard?” He asks as he shuffles towards her. “It’s rude to point.”
She stretches her arm and places the tip of the sword just above his breastbone and below his Adam’s apple.
“If you take one more step, you will bleed. This blade has no equal, and it loves to cut.”
He stops and reaches into a large leather satchel that hangs by his side pulling out a chunk of brown bread and a piece of cheese.
“I just thought you might be hungry after all that work. Aren’t you?”
“You still didn’t answer my question. Who are you and why are you here?”
&n
bsp; “I’m afraid there’s no easy answer to your first question, but I’m here to see the family you’ve rescued. You see, I sort of look after them.” He offers the food. “You really should eat, moving that quickly burns up a lot of energy.”
She takes a step backwards easing the blade away from him but keeping it raised.
“What do you mean, you look after them?” She asks.
“I mean that I care for their needs, and those of many others. I’m their… druid.” He smiles and waves the cheese and bread at her. “Please, eat. Put the sword away and eat.”
Her stomach rumbles deeply once more and she decides that, whoever he really is, this kilted little old man is no danger to her. She sheathes the sword and steps forward, bowing to him but keeping her eyes on him.
“Well, ‘druid’, I’ll accept your kind offer, but if you attempt any trickery, I’m not alone and you will not survive.”
His smile widens, crinkling the skin around his eyes which is visible above his fluffy grey beard.
“I’m not the trickster, although he is known to me.”
He nods, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. He offers the bread and cheese once more, snapping out of his reverie.
“Please, eat.”
She smiles and takes the food, devouring it quickly. The sharp tang and slightly nutty flavour of the cheese surprises her.
“That is tasty cheese.” She says. “Thank you.”
“Not at all, my dear. Now, if you grab some of that wood you’ve chopped we can go inside. I believe your friends have the fire prepared.”
She shakes her head and looks around again, trying to work out how this funny little man snuck up on her in sandals.
Piper paces back and forth in the Tavern.
“I am sorry Gwen, but we have to find out what’s going on. I still think Bronwyn will speak to me.”
“I won’t stop this plan of yours.” Gwen replies, wiping the surface of a wooden table with a clean wet cloth. “I’m simply advising against it. Wait until the others get back.”
“Someone has created this mess and put me in the middle of it, dear Gwen.” Piper slumps onto a chair. “I can’t just sit here.”
Gwen sighs heavily.
“I still think this is a really bad idea, but if you must go ahead, at least try to contact her through Lindy. Don’t go barging into the castle looking for her.”
“As if I’d do such a thing.” His face the picture of innocence.
“I’m not stupid, Piper, I know that’s exactly what you were going to do last time she caught you. I haven’t forgotten the trouble you’ve created in the past in your quests for vengeance.”
“They did deserve it.” He looks up at her, lowering his eyebrows. “Every one of them.”
“It doesn’t matter whether they deserved it or not. What I’m objecting to are your ham-fisted methods of achieving things. You’re an intelligent man, Piper, try using your brain for once and let us all help you.”
He nods. “I understand, but Bronwyn and Llewellyn are my friends, and she must know the truth. I can’t believe she thinks I’m guilty of this attack. I have to talk to her.”
He stands. “Can you open the door for me, please, somewhere near the castle?”
“Of course I can.” She replies. “But that doesn’t mean that I will. Remember, they’re looking for you, be careful!”
Wildcat and the girl’s mother are kneeling by the hearth, straw and fresh wood shavings lie within and the tinderbox is ready for use when a shadow fills the doorway
Lightning waits, letting the druid enter ahead of her.
“Look what I found outside.”
Filippo stands, the palm of his hand resting on a large dagger by his side.
“Do you think he followed us?”
“The door was open.” The old man shrugs.
“Godwick!” The father jumps up and rushes to greet the newcomer, clasping his free hand and pulling him into a hug. “How did you know we’d be here?”
“My dear Alan, I always know where to find all my people.” He smiles patting him on the back. “I had to come and see if you were all right.”
“It were terrible.” His wife indicates her singed clothing. “If it weren’t for these folk we’d have burned to death in our own house — and they said it were no accident!”
He rests his staff against the wall by the doorway and extends his other arm as the woman runs into it, closely followed by her daughter. She bursts into tears and buries her head in his shoulder as Alan reaches across to console her. They form a tight knit group.
The three from the tavern relax and stand back to give the family this moment, knowing they have bad news to share with them.
“You have no more to fear, Emma, for the worst is behind you.” He tells her. “Now, is there any chance that an old man can get a hot drink?”
She laughs through her tears and squeezes him tightly.
“We was just going to light the fire when you arrived. It’ll take a minute, but we’ll soon have hot food and drink ready.” She steps back and points to the table. “Please sit down. You have to tell us what you’re doing here.”
“What I’m doing here?” The druid scratches his head. “I’m waiting for my drink, aren’t I?”
Wildcat kneels by the hearth and sparks the tinderbox until she has the straw smouldering. Small flames flicker up and begin to burn the wooden shavings. She adds more and takes a handful of finely split sticks ready to add fuel to the fire.
The old druid guides the family to the table at the far end of the room and as he passes Filippo he nods to him and whispers. “Give us some time. I’ll tell them about her, and they’ll need to weep, then you can ask your questions.”
Filippo’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times but no sounds come out as he turns his head to look quizzically at Lightning who simply shrugs her shoulders and extends her arms outwards.
“I’m sorry, Lindy, but nobody’s allowed in there no more.” The guard tells her.
“But I have a message to deliver to the Lady Bronwyn, how’m I supposed to do that if I’m not allowed in? Can you give it to her?”
“I’m not allowed to do that neither. If any of us leaves our posts, there’ll be hell to pay. You’ll have to wait until she comes out.”
“And when’s that likely to be?”
She taps her foot, her arms folded across her chest.
“I really couldn’t say. You’ve been helping do her meals, so you know she don’t leave him.” The guard shakes his head. “She’s taking it real bad, they’ve always been right close.”
Lindy steps back. “I suppose I’ll have to wait then.”
“Wait for what?”
She’s startled and turns to see the Lady Elena standing behind her. She curtsies quickly.
“I was trying to deliver a message to the Lady Bronwyn. They won’t let me inside, my lady.”
Elena nods. “Yes, my husband’s worried that we may have traitors within the castle. I can take it for you?”
“Would you please, my lady? I understand it’s quite urgent.”
“Of course, dear. I am going in to see her now.”
She waves the two guards aside with a flick of her wrist.
Lindy hands over the sealed note, curtsies once more and leaves.
By the time the conversations at the other end of the room have ended, the fire is roaring the kettle of water is boiling and the three rescuers have a pot of broth beginning to steam in the hearth.
They’ve remained as quiet as they can to give the family privacy for their grief, but have heard most of what was said. Even though the Druid’s explanations sound logical, they have their doubts.
He leaves the family and comes over to join them.
“Thank you. Thank you all for helping them. I wish they’d come to me and then perhaps their daughter would yet live.” His face is sad.
“Did I hear them call you ‘Arglwydd’?” Lightning frowns.
“
That is a name by which I’m known sometimes.” He smiles weakly. “But names aren’t important now, what’s important is that no more of my people are hurt.”
“Who are your people?” Wildcat frowns.
“They are.” He indicates the family at the other side of the room. “Them and many like them. Simple, innocent people who shouldn’t be caught up in the intrigues of power hungry madmen.”
“Do you have any power hungry madmen in particular in mind?”
Filippo folds his arms and leans back against the door, his huge frame dwarfing it.
He sighs. “Far too many of them, I’m afraid.”
He looks at the grief stricken family. “You may speak with them now. They’ll need a few days to mourn, but I’ve impressed upon them the importance of telling you everything that she saw, so that little Melissa didn’t die in vain.”
Lightning rises, tossing her apple core into the fire and licking her dark fingers.
“We’ll do our best.”
Lady Bronwyn Pentrev is kneeling deep in prayer by the side of her unconscious husband when Elena arrives.
She waits in the doorway to give her sister time to finish her supplications and turns the note over in her hands. There’s something familiar about the seal on the folded piece of paper, but she can’t quite put her finger on it.
After another minute or so, she politely clears her throat and waits.
Bronwyn bows her head, touching her heart her lips and her forehead before rising to face her.
“I am sorry, Elena I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“There’s no need to apologise. When I saw Brother Michael in the next room, I realised that you must be at devotions with your dear husband. I wouldn’t have disturbed you, but a message arrived via the servants and naturally they’re not allowed in here to see you.”
She holds out the note.
“Is it important?”
“I was told that it might be urgent, but I don’t recognise the seal on it.”
“And it’s for me personally?” She frowns.
“Yes, dear sister.” She walks over and hands her the note.
The Wrong Scapegoat: A Mythic Fantasy Novel (Ravens of the Morrigan) Page 14
