by Linda McNabb
Up ahead Rhonan could see stables built off the back of the lodge and his heart skipped a beat when he saw a white, covered wagon parked just in front of it.
‘Kheron, that’s the hunter’s wagon,’ he said, suddenly feeling a little light-headed and nervous. ‘Do you think…’
‘The wagon will be empty,’ Kheron said, shaking his head, before Rhonan even finished his sentence. ‘But at least we know they are still here. Let’s find somewhere we can take a look.’
Rhonan swallowed back the disappointment of not being able to rescue his family so easily and then grabbed Kheron’s arm. ‘This way. I know how to get in.’
‘How?’ Kheron asked, looking surprised. ‘You’ve never been here before.’
‘But I’ve lived at an Inn for my whole life,’ Rhonan pointed out. ‘And they all have a cellar.’
Rhonan led his cousin past the stables quietly and then to a pair of large wooden doors, which were set into the footpath next to the inn. He grabbed one of the flat iron handles and slowly pulled on it. The heavy oak door lifted silently and light streamed down into the cellar, showing up a set of wide steps leading down into darkness.
‘Come on. Hold onto me,’ Rhonan said, already on the first step. Kheron obligingly grabbed hold of the back of Rhonan’s shirt and followed him down the steps. They lowered the large doors back into place and were plunged into darkness. ‘The barrels will be on the left and the food storage will be on shelves straight ahead. I’ve counted ten steps so far and there will be about twenty in total.’
Just as Rhonan counted to twenty the floor levelled out and he jumped a little when the entire cellar lit up with pale green light. Had someone seen them? Were they about to be caught?
‘It’s just my moonstone,’ Kheron said, tapping Rhonan reassuringly on the shoulder and then looked around. There were several dozen barrels stacked to their left and up ahead were shelves set deep into the rock, full of sacks of supplies. ‘You definitely know your way around a cellar.’
‘I’ve spent a lot of hours in them over the years,’ Rhonan muttered, eyeing the huge barrels with a scowl. ‘They’re heavier than they look.’
‘Which way now?’ Kheron asked.
‘Up the stairs over there will be the kitchen,’ Rhonan replied.
‘But won’t there be people there? It’s almost lunch time.’ Kheron looked a little hesitant but Rhonan smiled.
‘No, they will have prepared the lunch meal hours in advance. It will be keeping warm on the stove. If they’re anything like most kitchen staff, they’ll be taking a break while they can.’
Despite his reassurances to Kheron, Rhonan hesitated a little as they went up the steep steps. He listened carefully for anything that might indicate a kitchen hand was about but all he heard was the sound of a stew slowly bubbling in its pot. In the background he could hear the familiar raucous laughter of paying guests drinking in the main room.
‘We need to find where they’re holding Falh and your family,’ Kheron said, looking nervously around the kitchen, as if expecting someone to catch them at any minute.
‘Then we need a disguise,’ Rhonan said with a grin. All his nervousness had vanished when he saw how similar the kitchen looked to the place he had grown up. He walked over to a bench and opened a cupboard below, a little surprised but delighted to see they also stored their aprons in the same place as his mother.
‘You’ll have to take the bow and arrow off for now,’ Rhonan said as he handed a heavy green leather apron to Kheron and slipped one over his own head as well. He put the quivers and bows into the cupboard and shut it. ‘Lunch is about to be served a little early today.’
Rhonan led Kheron over to a huge silver platter on which a huge side of beef lay cooling. Rhonan took one end of the tray and Kheron took the other. They headed out the swinging doors and into the public room with their heads down slightly but their eyes scanning the room.
This Inn was a lot bigger than the Halfway Inn but much the same in layout. Groups of men sat around long wooden tables that were supported by empty barrels. They were talking loudly and completely ignored the boys.
The floor was strewn with hay to soak up any spills and the stench of stale beer hung heavily in the room. The walls were lined with shelves and hooks, which held a variety of items. Rows of mugs hung around the room and a few were missing. It looked like the men who came here each had a mug that was reserved just for them. Clearly newcomers would not be welcome.
On one wall, above the mugs, were two large stuffed fish surrounded by the tools of the fisherman. A second part of the wall was dedicated to the deer hunter, with a large stag head taking pride of place. The opposite wall was clearly for the duck hunters but the space next to it drew Rhonan’s attention so much he almost dropped the tray. A bow and arrow hung on the wall but it was no ordinary arrow. The tip was rounded and a single slim point reflected the light from the lamps which hung from the ceiling. It was the arrow of a Shadow Hunter.
A small group of men sat to one side of the room, just in front of the wall, and three of them appeared to be having their portrait painted. A nervous young painter was slowly creating his masterpiece whilst ignoring the grumbling of his subjects.
‘Hurry up or my ale will be flat,’ one of the men whinged, sounding bored. The men had their backs to the boys and Kheron hissed quietly at Rhonan.
‘We can’t stand here holding this all day. Where are we supposed to put it?’
‘Over on the long table by the fireplace,’ Rhonan replied, realising that they risked drawing attention to themselves if they took too long.
‘Sit still, you’re going to hang on the Wall of Fame for eternity,’ another man said gruffly and Rhonan instantly recognised the voice as they placed the tray on the table. Uncle Terac.
Rhonan turned towards his uncle, as if his eyes needed confirmation of what his ears told him. Slung across his uncle’s shoulder was Ryena’s band of gems. From this angle he could see the artist’s work and Rhonan sucked in a breath of surprise as he saw there was more in the picture than three hunters. Sitting on the floor in front of the hunters were Falh, Bryn, Elezan and Dyahn. Dyahn was asleep but the three adults stared back at him as if they had not even seen him, but a twitch of Bryn’s nose told Rhonan that his father had indeed seen his son – and he wasn’t impressed.
A sharp tug on his sleeve made him back away to the relative safety of the kitchen. He paced the empty kitchen then looked hopelessly at Kheron. Now that he had found his family he had no idea what to do.
‘How are we going to get them free?’ Rhonan asked and he could see that Kheron was having to make an effort to look positive about their quest.
‘I guess we have to wait until they leave the Inn. There are too many hunters here to risk a rescue. Perhaps we can ambush the wagon in the forest?’ Kheron didn’t sound very convinced but their conversation was cut short by the arrival of a short, fat man from a back room. He wore a white, stained apron and was rubbing his eyes as he entered the room.
‘Who are you two?’ he asked, looking about to shout for someone to kick them out, then he looked at their aprons and smiled a little. ‘At last they’ve given me more servers. I’ve been asking for months.’
Kheron and Rhonan looked at each other, then at the big man who was now only a few steps away. If they told him why they were really here he would call the hunters in a heartbeat. They would have to wait for him to turn his back and then slip out through the cellar.
‘We’re only here for the day,’ Kheron said in a thick accent that made him sound rather simple-minded. ‘We’re on loan from The Hound and Hog in Melva .’
‘Well, I’ll take what I can get. There’s quite a crowd out there today,’ the man said with a sigh. He pointed at a row of pots simmering on the large stove. ‘Take those out there for a start.’
Rhonan grabbed some pot holders and tossed some to Kheron. They both picked up the pots and headed slowly for the swinging door into the public room. Neithe
r wanted to go back but it seemed they had little choice.
‘We’ll slip out on the way back from this load,’ Rhonan whispered to his cousin. Kheron nodded and let Rhonan push open the swinging doors.
‘Wait!’ the cook called over. Rhonan froze. Had the man realised they weren’t really server lads? ‘You with the red hair, I need to check that.’
Kheron backed off into the kitchen and Rhonan went to follow but the cook waved him off. ‘Take that one in.’
Rhonan gulped. He had to stay near Kheron to be protected by his cousin’s elf stone. He stalled again but the cook threw a wooden spoon at him and he had to duck into the public room to avoid it. It was a foolish choice. He knew instantly it would have been better to be hit by the wooden spoon.
No sooner than he felt the door swing closed behind him he knew the room had gone quiet. He looked around the room, wide-eyed and already stepping backwards to the door. Every face in the room was staring at him and several men’s noses were twitching.
‘How good of you to save me the trouble of hunting you down.’
Rhonan turned to the voice, feeling frozen to the spot. He was staring at his uncle, arrow notched and waiting. A gleam of delight lit Terac’s face as the arrow flew towards Rhonan.
He dropped the pot and raised his hands in a feeble attempt to ward off the arrow He watched the green flocked wooden arrow as it seemed to take forever to reach him. He expected a piercing pain as it struck his shoulder but it never came. Instead he felt like he was floating. The world turned upside down as the floor came rushing towards him. His last fleeting vision was of his sister screaming soundlessly and Kheron’s face peering through the open door.
CHAPTER TWENTY
CAUGHT!
The ground was moving. It was lurching and bumping against him. Rhonan want to yell out and make it stop. It was making him feel ill. He tried to roll over but something was stopping his hands from moving. His eyelids felt heavy and glued shut.
‘Run, Kheron,’ he muttered, but it felt like his mouth was full of cotton balls and the words came out all muffled and slurred.
‘Rest, Rhonan. You’ll feel better soon.’
Rhonan frowned, or tried to, as he drifted off to sleep even though he fought against it. When he woke again the lurching was still there but he knew now it wasn’t the ground. His eyes opened this time and he saw he was lying on the floor of the covered wagon. He still felt ill but he fought down the feeling as he tried to bring his eyes into focus. He could see other people but they looked fuzzy.
‘I’m sorry,’ a tender voice said and Rhonan squinted to see his mother. ‘I never thought my brother would actually shoot his own nephew.’
Rhonan sat up suddenly. ‘Did he get Kheron too?’ he asked, only slurring slightly.
‘He managed to run off while they were gloating over your capture,’ Falh said, looking both relieved that his son had escaped and upset that Rhonan had been caught.
Rhonan’s vision cleared finally and he saw the tall red-haired elf sitting next to Dyahn, who lay asleep on the floor of the wagon. His hands were tied behind him and he looked embarrassed to have been caught.
‘We’ve been travelling all afternoon. I was worried you were never going to wake up,’ Elezan said, a tear running down her cheek.
‘Keep quiet back there!’ a gruff voice shouted from the front of the wagon.
‘You have to let us go, Terac,’ Elezan pleaded through the white cloth. ‘Don’t you have any compassion for your own kin?’
‘They’re Shadows – not my kin. As for you, father will be very interested to hear what you’ve been doing with your life since you ran away.’ Terac laughed and Elezan looked worried. Rhonan wondered just what was so bad about his grandfather to make Elezan run away.
‘Who is your father?’ Rhonan asked quietly as the wind blew back the rear cloth a little and a he caught a glimpse of open countryside. He couldn’t tell by the area where they were but his sense of direction said they were heading away from Shaldoh.
‘Lord Hendrik; one of the higher ranking cousins to the king. When I was little he used to hunt with the king and the king’s huntsmen,’ Elezan replied softly. ‘Back then they only hunted deer and pigs in the crown forests. My father had exceptional hearing and a gift for tracking so the king always took him on a hunt. One day there was an accident. Some other hunters had strayed into the king’s hunting grounds. An arrow almost struck the king, but my father heard it coming and pushed the king to safety.’
‘Corbyn and other elves were hunting as well that day and Hendrik blamed my father for the stray arrow,’ Bryn added with a scowl. ‘Hendrik was always distrustful of elves. I think he was just jealous of our magic. The king was so grateful to Hendrik that he appointed him senior advisor to the crown.’
Elezan took up the story again. ‘My father convinced the king that elf magic was evil and all elves were dangerous. The king put a price on the head of every elf.’
‘And since then we have spent our lives in hiding,’ Falh finished off. ‘All because one man was afraid of us.’
Several hours later, as the sun was starting to set, the wagon came to a complete stop and Terac seemed to be arguing with someone.
‘The city gates shut at dusk.’ A voice commanded loudly. ‘You cannot enter the City of Durran.’
‘We are on the king’s business,’ one of the three hunters argued back. ‘We’re just passing through for the night.’
‘We have Shadows to deliver to the king,’ Terac added sharply. ‘We wish to stay at an inn for the night. We will take them up to the castle at first light tomorrow.’
‘Really?’ The guard sounded impressed and part of the cloth cover was pulled back. The guard looked nervously into the wagon, as if expecting to see something horrible. He frowned a little at the sight of five ordinary-looking people and let the cloth fall loosely back down. ‘Very well, you may enter the city.’
The wagon began to roll on again, roughly, as if over uneven cobbles, through the gate and slowed to a crawl. From the excited chatter of voices outside the wagon Rhonan guessed that they had driven right into the middle of a market place. He could smell food cooking and the distinct aroma of hot mulled wine.
‘Clear the way,’ Terac said loudly.
‘They have Shadows in that wagon,’ a voice called from the crowd
A hushed silence fell outside the wagon then a few seconds later the chatter started to rise again.
‘Show us,’ one person yelled. ‘We want to see them.’
Rhonan pulled away from the side of the wagon as the cloth sidings were suddenly ripped away. The wagon shook violently as the rest of the white cloth was torn down, leaving them staring at a curious and sneering crowd. The three hunters on the driving seat beamed proudly.
The rope tying Rhonan’s hands together had come loose and he wriggled free, then untied his mother and sister. Elezan untied both Falh and Bryn then pulled Dyahn close but Rhonan sat alone, staring back defiantly. One young boy came right up to the wagon and reached in to poke Rhonan in the arm.
‘He doesn’t look like a Shadow,’ the boy said, looking puzzled.
‘Come away – he might bite you,’ the child’s father said, pulling his son back quickly and shooting a scared, suspicious look at Rhonan.
‘Make way!’ Terac yelled, trying to urge the horse through the crowd. People slowly fell back and allowed the wagon to roll on through the market. A half-eaten apple hit Rhonan in the arm and the crowd laughed.
Rhonan glared back at the jeering faces and then stared as he saw a familiar face. Kheron stood right in the midst of the crowd, jeering and laughing. Rhonan was about to scowl at his cousin when the elf winked. Before Rhonan had a chance to tell anyone else that Kheron was there the wagon drew to a halt outside a large Tavern. The three hunters jumped down from the driving seat and shooed the crowd away.
‘Right you lot, get down,’ one hunter yelled as he turned back to the captives.
‘Find o
ut if the tavern has a cellar we can lock them in,’ Terac yelled to the third man.
Just then a stone struck the wagon wheel and skidded away under the wagon. Terac looked around to see who had thrown it but the crowd were a dozen paces away. Another stone landed just in front of the crowd and a squeal rose from most of the women.
For a second Rhonan couldn’t see why but then he saw dozens of rats running around under the wagon and more weaving in and out of the crowd. People were shrieking, running around and there was chaos as the hunters tried to drag their captives from the wagon.
Rhonan grinned as he suddenly realised what was happening. Kheron. It was a diversion.
‘Follow me!’ Rhonan hissed to Dyahn who stood next to him but she was too busy staring at the rats with horror and didn’t even hear him. Falh and Rhonan’s parents had already been dragged off by two of the hunters. Terac was stepping over the rats, heading for Rhonan and Dyahn. Rhonan saw a backpack still sitting on the front driver’s seat and he saw a glimpse of the band of gems from where it had fallen open. He reached over and picked it up before grabbing Dyahn’s hand to pull her off the wagon. ‘Come on!’
Dyahn wrenched her hand free, screamed as a rat came right up to her feet, and leapt back onto the wagon. He glanced back up at his sister. She was far too scared to even look at him. Why had Kheron chosen rats? There was no way he would be able to get Dyahn to go near them. He turned, devastated at having to leave his little sister behind, and ran through the rats.
Terac saw him making a run for it and charged after him. Rhonan ducked under Terac’s arm as it swung to catch him. Rhonan rolled across the ground, ignoring the rats that looked so real. He ran right into the crowd and kept on running. He had to slow to a walk a few minutes later as the crowd thinned out and he turned into a narrow alley, intending to hide for a while.
As he stepped into the alley he felt a hand on his shoulder. A shiver ran down his back and he sighed. He had almost made it. He turned to face his captor and felt a wave of relief when he saw it was Kheron.
