Thinblade

by David A. Wells

  Tears streamed down Abigail’s face, leaving streaks in the travel dust, but otherwise she was calm and steady as she cradled her brother’s head in her lap.

  Lucky quickly assessed the situation. “How long do we have before the Reishi are on us?” Anatoly always admired the way Lucky went calm in the face of danger.

  “Not more than half an hour.” He actually thought it would take them longer to catch up but wanted to err on the side of caution.

  Lucky nodded. “You’d best help Jack with the horses. We’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.”

  Anatoly gave Alexander’s hand a squeeze before he stood and went to help Jack saddle fresh horses.

  Lucky gently probed and prodded the area around the bolt, all the while explaining to Alexander what he was doing and why. It sounded like any other lesson the old tutor might give. Except this one had a practical exam that went along with it. Alexander wasn’t exactly numb to the pain; he was just getting used to it. He could see the colors of both Lucky and Abigail. He supposed that was because he didn’t seem to have the energy to keep his eyes focused.

  Lucky wrapped a leather thong around the base of the bolt where it jutted from Alexander’s shoulder and cinched it down tight. Then he took his belt knife and scored the bolt shaft a few inches from the knotted leather thong. Once he’d cut deeply enough that he could break the shaft, he fished around in his bag and came out with a wooden dowel about five inches long. He leaned over Alexander and looked him in the eye. “This is going to hurt. Bite down on this.” Then he popped the dowel into Alexander’s mouth.

  What happened next threatened to render Alexander unconscious. Lucky took the shaft and pulled the tip of the bolt back toward the entry wound, then slid the knotted thong down to the point of entry to keep it from going any deeper. He cinched the thong down tight and wrapped it around Alexander’s shoulder, tying it tightly to keep the bolt in place. Then he snapped the bolt off where he’d scored it. Alexander screamed and clenched down on the dowel. Lucky spread a salve on the wound and tied a bandage around Alexander’s shoulder. Then he took a couple of leaves from a pouch, removed the dowel from Alexander’s mouth and replaced it with the leaves.

  “These will dull the pain. Chew on them until I tell you to spit them out, but don’t swallow them.”

  Lucky finished the job by tying a makeshift sling for Alexander’s left arm. Alexander’s head was swimming but the pain was becoming less important. It was still there. It still hurt. It just seemed to be less urgent. The numbweed was doing its work.

  Anatoly returned with a big strong horse saddled and ready to ride. “Abigail, you’ll have to ride with Alexander. He won’t have the balance or strength to ride on his own.”

  She nodded tightly and helped her brother to his feet. She and Anatoly helped Alexander into the saddle and Abigail climbed up behind him. Within minutes they were riding as quickly as they dared toward the forest.

  Alexander felt the pain in his shoulder in a steady, pounding rhythm. His head was clearing with the cold air in his face. He knew they were in trouble. The sun was just rising and the enemy would be coming fast. It was nearly a day’s ride to the forest and even then they wouldn’t find safety. It was several days from the edge of the forest to Glen Morillian. With his injury, they would be much slower than their pursuers and they dare not stop and fight.

  After a morning of agonizing riding, they stopped on a rise to saddle fresh horses. They could see their enemy in the distance, a dozen men on horseback maybe an hour behind. Alexander thought to himself that at least they would have fewer men to face since he’d managed to steal some of their horses and scatter the rest. When they remounted, Alexander insisted on riding on his own. He wasn’t in great shape but he knew they would make better time if he wasn’t doubled up with Abigail.

  Lucky protested but Alexander simply mounted up. “We need speed. I’m slowing us down. Besides, the pain has subsided some,” he lied, “and I’m starting to feel stronger.”

  Anatoly and Lucky exchanged a look before mounting up themselves.

  They rode hard all afternoon and into the evening, changing horses every few hours. Each time they stopped, they could see the enemy in the distance and it looked like they were gaining ground. The speed Alexander had bought them with fresh horses, he had cost them with his wound.

  His failure nagged at him. He knew he could have prevented his injury if he had just been mindful, if he’d just been focused instead of letting his emotions distract him. He tried to push it from his thoughts. He told himself it was in the past and he should learn his lesson and let it go, but he couldn’t. It just kept slipping back into his mind. He would catch himself dwelling on it and realize that he’d been turning it over and over in his mind for several minutes without even realizing it.

  They crested a small rise just as the sun sank past the edge of the world. Alexander reined in his horse. The rest of them followed suit. They could see the forest in the distance but that wasn’t what caught Alexander’s eye. The old forest gate tower was still glowing orange with the last rays of daylight. It stood atop a flat, rocky plateau just west of the road at the edge of the forest. Shadow slowly crept up its walls, chasing the orange rays of sunlight into the night. In ages past, this place had been a guard post belonging to the Ruathan King, but now it was a dilapidated ruin, crumbling under the weight of inattention. It was also the most defensible place for miles around.

  “Lucky, can you get this out of my shoulder if we have the time and safety for you to work?” Alexander asked.

  “Yes, I believe so,” Lucky said. “Once it’s removed, I have a salve that can heal your wound very quickly, but I can’t use it until I can cut the bolt out first and we have some time for you to rest.”

  Alexander wasn’t looking forward to that. His shoulder had settled into a dull, palpable ache. He set aside his pain and fear and raced through all of their options. They could continue into the forest, at night, in the dark. Not a good plan. They could leave the road and try to elude the Reishi Protectorate, but their horses would be easy to track, and striking out on foot wasn’t an option. If the ruse didn’t work, they’d be run down without any chance of escape. They could stand and fight. That would be stupid. The remaining choice wasn’t perfect but it was better than any of the others.

  “We’ll hole up in the old forest gate tower. Hopefully, we can hide, but if we can’t, it’s the best place we have to make a stand.” Alexander looked at Anatoly, expecting an objection.

  Instead, the big man-at-arms took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “The Reishi are about an hour behind us. That should give us some time to improve our fortifications before they arrive. Besides, I’m tired of running.”

  They rode hard for the tower plateau. The more time they had to make preparations, the better their chances for survival. Alexander was exhausted, sweating and in growing pain when they reached the base of the abrupt granite plateau. It looked like an oblong section of the plain had been thrust up fifty or sixty feet into the air. The rocky walls drove straight up from the ground. There was only one way to the top. A path had been cut into the face of the rock wall starting at the base on the northeastern side and running completely around the west side of the plateau and finally reaching the top at the southeast corner. The path was about six feet wide and offered only a foot-high curb of stone for a railing along its outer edge.

  They led the horses up the path in single file through the quickly fading light. Despite the stones cluttering the path, it was solid and sturdy. They reached the top and found the entire plateau ringed on its outer edge with a low stone wall broken only by the stout gatehouse at the top of the path.

  The gatehouse was a simple stone building with a passage that formed a tunnel about a dozen feet long and only about seven feet high. They walked their horses through the ancient fortification. Alexander could see where stout oak doors used to be hinged but they had long since rotted away. As he passed through the gatehouse, he cau
ght glimpses of the moon through the arrow slits cut along the walls. The rusted and broken remains of a portcullis were now little more than a reddish stain on the ground.

  The tunnel opened onto the top of the plateau that stood a hundred feet long and seventy-five feet wide. It looked much bigger from below. The outer wall that ringed the entire edge was only about three feet tall but it was still intact. The guard tower in the center of the plateau hadn’t fared nearly as well over the centuries.

  The building had two parts. The first was a single-story, square, stone room about forty feet on a side. The walls were thick stone but the east wall facing the road had partially collapsed and the stout wooden beams that used to support the flat-topped roof had long ago rotted to dust, leaving what was left of the room open to the sky. The tower was attached to the large square room at the western side and rose a good forty feet into the quickly darkening sky. The ground all around the tower ruin was thick with rich green grass.

  Anatoly unslung his war axe, handed Jack the reins to his horse, and entered the square room through the open door. He disappeared into the old structure for a moment and returned, nodding to himself. “Lucky, the tower’s the most enclosed place in the building. All of the floors are gone so it’s open to the sky but it’ll shield light better than anywhere else. Abigail, Jack, we need to do a quick assessment of our tactical situation and make preparations for battle.”

  Lucky took his bag and led Alexander into the tower. Alexander sat down on his pack heavily and gently probed his wounded shoulder. Now that they’d stopped, the pain seemed to slam back into him and he could feel his exhaustion quickly catching up with him. He sat quietly, just trying to conserve his energy, while Lucky tacked a blanket from his bedroll over the entrance to the door and took two little candle lamps from his bag. Despite their small size, they created ample light for Lucky to work by and with the blanket over the door, Alexander guessed they would be all but invisible from the road.

  “All right, Alexander, let’s get your bedroll laid out and have you lie down.”

  Alexander felt dizzy when he stood but steadied himself and motioned to his bedroll on his pack. Lucky unrolled it, and Alexander, gratefully, lay down. He felt like all of his strength drained out of him as he let his body go limp. He tried to focus on his breathing and not the pain, but it was a losing battle.

  Lucky used Alexander’s pack for a seat and set out a series of items on a flat rock nearby. He had ample bandages, a couple of jars of salve, a vial of clear liquid, a pouch of numbweed leaves, a pair of sharp-looking knives, one smaller than the other, and a bottle of spirits. He fished two of the numbweed leaves out of the little leather pouch, rolled them into a ball, and held them in front of Alexander’s mouth.

  “Open up,” he said as he popped them in. “Now chew those into a pulp but don’t swallow them. That’s important; they’re poison if swallowed.”

  Alexander nodded. He’d had numbweed before. In fact, Lucky had given him some earlier this very day. He knew what to expect. He would start to feel numb, hence the name. First his face, then his hands and feet, and finally his whole body would feel somehow distant and fuzzy. At this point, he welcomed it. He was tired of the gnawing pain in his shoulder.

  Lucky began removing the sling and bloodied bandages from around the wound. He cut the shirt from around Alexander’s shoulder, exposing the angry-looking injury with the business end of an immobilized crossbow bolt still sticking out of his flesh. He gently and carefully cleaned around the wound with a damp cloth. Alexander could feel the shadow of pain but it was distant, somehow less urgent than he knew it should be. Lucky looked closely into his eyes.

  “All right, Alexander, it’s time to begin. Spit out the numbweed and take this bite piece.”

  Alexander knew he wasn’t going to like what was coming next, but he did as he was told. Just as he settled the little wooden dowel between his teeth, Abigail came into the stone tower. She made sure to refasten the blanket over the doorway to keep the light of Lucky’s two little work lamps from shining down to the road. She knelt at Alexander’s side and took his hand.

  “I’m here, Alex. Anatoly is setting up defenses. He seems almost happy to be preparing for a battle.” She smiled as she shook her head. A long lock of her silvery blond hair fell free and she hooked it behind her ear before she continued. “Jack is following him around and taking orders like a trained soldier. The Reishi are about half an hour away and riding by torchlight.”

  He felt like he was listening to his sister from underwater. He could hear what she said and knew it was important but just couldn’t make his mind translate the words into meaning. He smiled and nodded as he gave her hand a squeeze.

  Lucky took a good look at Alexander, then turned to Abigail and said, “It’s time.” She nodded and switched from kneeling to sitting cross-legged with her brother’s hand held firmly in both of hers, then nodded at Lucky. He gave her a little smile. Lucky had helped raise both of them. He loved them like they were his own children.

  First, he removed the leather thong that was holding the tip of the crossbow bolt in place. Alexander closed his eyes in anticipation of pain but it didn’t come. Next, Lucky splashed some spirits on the area of the wound. Alexander winced and bit down on the dowel in his mouth. The pain was hot and sharp even through the numbness.

  Lucky took the smaller of his two little knives and carefully washed it with the spirits. He examined the wound to see where the blades of the bolt were. It was a three-bladed bolt. He would have to make three cuts, one for each blade, so he could draw the bolt out without ripping a chunk of flesh from Alexander’s shoulder.

  “This is going to hurt. Are you ready?”

  Alexander nodded tightly.

  Lucky took a deep breath and began.

  The shock of the first cut was stunning. Alexander bit down hard on the dowel and gasped. In that moment, the effects of the numbweed seemed to evaporate in the face of a pain they couldn’t contend with. The second cut sent shooting, white-hot agony into every recess of his body. He felt like he was drowning in an ocean of torment. There was nothing but pain. No enemy. No fear. No grief for his dead brother. Everything in his world, every part of his awareness was filled to overflowing with agony. The third cut threatened to claim his consciousness. He held his eyes clenched shut. His teeth clamped onto the wooden dowel in his mouth and his breath came in quick little gasps. He felt like he was sliding into an unforgivable darkness, and then he heard his sister whimper ever so slightly and he realized he was crushing her hand.

  He focused on her, on his need to not hurt her, and forced himself to relax his death grip on her hand. In that moment of distraction, Lucky drew the head of the crossbow bolt out of his shoulder. He nearly screamed. His eyes snapped open and he started panting around the dowel.

  Lucky was talking him through the operation gently while he worked. “The bolt is out, now I just have to clean the wound, pack it with healing salve, and bandage it.” He sounded very reassuring somewhere off in the distance past a battlefield of pain.

  It wasn’t long before Alexander was lying quietly with a fresh bandage around his now much-improved shoulder and Lucky was packing his things back into his travel bag.

  Alexander felt as if he were floating gently on an ocean of agony that only moments before he’d been drowning in. The pain was still there. It still occupied the very center of his awareness but it was not nearly as insistent, not nearly as urgent as it had been. He focused on his breathing in an effort to wrest his consciousness away from the pain and exert some form of control over his experience of the moment. Second by second he began to have little bits of success. He wasn’t sure if it was from his efforts or the result of the healing salve that Lucky had liberally packed into his wound before dressing it with a clean bandage.

  Anatoly came to the doorway but didn’t disturb the blanket. “The Reishi have turned off the road and are approaching. Douse the light if you can.” Alexander heard the big man
-at-arms move off into the night just before the world went dark.

  Lucky spoke in hushed tones. “Abigail, you should go help Anatoly. I’ll sit with Alexander while the salve does its work. It shouldn’t be too long before his shoulder is mended.”

  Alexander felt his sister pat the back of his hand before she stood and left the pitch-black tower. His shoulder felt warm and it was itching but he didn’t seem to have the energy to reach up and scratch it. He drifted somewhere on the edge of sleep for what seemed like a long time. When he woke, the pain was nearly gone and his shoulder felt almost whole again.

  Chapter 15

  He lay still in the dark, listening. He could hear the shadow of voices drifting up from the plain below. “Lucky?”

  “I’m here,” he said in a whisper.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Several minutes. The healing salve renders you unconscious briefly while it finishes its work. How does your shoulder feel?”

  “Much better,” Alexander said as he sat up. He could still feel a slight pain where he’d been injured but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. “What’s happening?”

  “The Reishi are at the base of the plateau. I suspect they’ll send some men up to search the ruin within minutes. Normally, I would insist that you rest for at least a full day before doing anything physical but under the circumstances, perhaps we should go see if Anatoly could use our help.”

  Alexander rubbed his shoulder. Magic always amazed him. The wound was completely closed over. Only the roughness of a scar remained where less than an hour before a crossbow bolt had been buried in his flesh. He stretched his arm gently this way and that, then rolled his shoulder to get an idea of his limitations. The shoulder was stiff and still hurt when he put a strain on it, but otherwise it felt better than he could have hoped for.

  He dug into his pack and found his spare shirt and his cloak. The air was cold and he started to shiver almost as soon as he sat up from under the blanket Lucky had draped over him.