Jonathan Haymaker

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Jonathan Haymaker Page 22

by Sam Ferguson


  “That’s it, I’m castrating Bull,” Bear said as he stood up.

  Captain Ziegler shook his head and smacked his hand on the table. He shot Bull a sour glare and then motioned for Bear to be seated. “Out of deference to Jonathan, he shall go by his given name, as will Raven’s daughter, Miranda. The rest of us will use our Ghost names. I don’t need the two of you fighting over names when we should be focusing on trolls.”

  “Right,” Bull said with a satisfied nod and a grin. “Besides, I bet it would be too confusing for Moose to start trying to memorize new names now anyhow, seeing as he has used our Ghost names for years.”

  Moose emitted a throaty growl.

  “That’s enough, Bull,” Captain Ziegler said. Something about the tone caused Bull to look down at the table and close his mouth. Ziegler then took in a deep breath and glanced at each of the others. “Let’s get out there and bring our friends home!”

  The others pounded their fists on the table and shouted in agreement.

  “Let’s skewer those sons of Khefir!” Bull yelled.

  “For our friends!” Bear called out.

  “No!” Moose said as he rose from the table. “For our brothers!”

  Chapter 16

  The group set out from the cave over the barren, cold rocks. They moved silently, taking down a pair of trolls out on patrol, then moving ever closer to Shadowbore. The rains assaulted them fiercely every step of the way, limiting visibility and making the journey colder than any spring Jonathan had ever known.

  They stopped halfway through the day, when Jonathan noted a hidden den full of trolls. The bow alerted him by sending the now-familiar tingling sensation through his hand. As he took the bow out and readied himself, the others stopped and watched him.

  He crept over a pair of rocks slick with rain and covered in orange and gray lichen. He stared down to a slab of stone, and then he saw the faint glowing heart behind it. He looked back to Ziegler and signaled the location. Moose and Bear circled around the left, while Ziegler and Bull stalked up behind Jonathan.

  “How many, can you tell?” Ziegler asked.

  Jonathan shook his head. “The stone is either very thick, or perhaps the others are farther back in the tunnel. I can only see one.”

  Ziegler nodded and stood to signal to Moose and Bear, but Jonathan nudged the captain in the side.

  “Two more just appeared,” Jonathan said. “I see three now.”

  “They know we are here, maybe,” Bull put in.

  Jonathan shook his head. “They don’t appear to be moving too close to the stone. They are grouping together. Maybe they are eating, or talking.”

  Ziegler signaled with his fingers to Moose and Bear. The two soldiers nodded and slowly made their way toward the stone. Captain Ziegler then bent back down and set a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “They lift the door, you take out the guards.”

  Jonathan nodded. He slid a bit closer to the doorway and then stood, with an arrow set to the bowstring.

  Moose and Bear took several minutes to traverse the last twenty feet. They were so slow, it was almost painful for Jonathan to watch, but at least they were quiet. The two men neared the massive slab and then signaled to Jonathan that they would tip it forward toward him, affording a wide opening to shoot into. Jonathan drew the string back and waited.

  Moose and Bear exploded into action, throwing the doorway open. Light burst in from the outside and the trolls shielded their eyes. Jonathan let loose three arrows in less than two seconds. Three bodies slumped to the ground.

  “Go!” Ziegler commanded in a whisper as he and Bull started down toward the opening.

  Moose was the first one inside, followed by Bear. Ziegler and Bull were next, followed by Jonathan and then Miranda. Jonathan looked down to the trolls and saw hunks of meat spilled along the floor of the cave.

  “They were eating,” Bull said with surprise written on his face. “Good job, kid,” he offered.

  Ziegler then pointed to Jonathan and gestured with his head down the cave. “Take point. If you see anything, we’ll be two paces behind you.”

  Jonathan didn’t have to be told twice. He quickstepped past the others and tiptoed down the darkening tunnel. He followed it around a bend to the left, and then back again toward the right. Then he stopped as he approached a set of stairs that had been carved into the stone. He moved slowly, not wanting to misstep in the darkness. The stairs descended down twenty feet before the tunnel leveled out again and then veered to the left.

  The young archer kept his breathing steady, slowly putting one foot out in front of the other. Kigabané was not alerting him to any dangers, but still something felt wrong to him. The damp, musty air assaulted his nose with a putrid odor.

  He heard something, like rustling leaves perhaps, or maybe something dragging across loose dirt over stone. Jonathan paused and held his breath, listening and waiting.

  Nothing happened.

  He moved forward as the tunnel narrowed. He looked back, but could barely make out the dark forms following him.

  Something moved in the darkness again. Jonathan froze. He turned back to the others. “We need light,” he said.

  “No light,” Ziegler whispered. “If we use magic now, they will know where we are, and not just the trolls in this tunnel, but everywhere.”

  Flustered, Jonathan sighed and pushed back. “I can’t see anything, and the bow isn’t telling me there are any more trolls, but I hear something moving in the darkness. There’s something out there, and I don’t want to go in blind.”

  “Then we leave,” Ziegler said.

  “What do you mean we leave?” Bull whispered in the dark. “If the boy is afraid of the dark, then let me go.”

  “Enough, Bull,” Ziegler said harshly. “It isn’t vital to our mission. We are going for Boar and Raven. We killed the guards above that could surprise us, and that is good enough. Let’s double back and get moving to Shadowbore.”

  “What, and leave the tunnel alone?” Bull asked.

  “Shut your mouth and move,” Ziegler commanded.

  The group made their way back up through the tunnel, up the stairs and around the many bends until they emerged into the daylight. Moose and Bear set the slab of stone back over the tunnel. Then they made their way farther across the desolate rocks.

  None of them spoke much. It seemed that the veteran warriors were more than used to the silence. It was almost as if they preferred it, communicating with their hands and eyes more than with their words. Miranda walked in the middle of the pack, with Moose and Bear off to the left, Bull to the right and Ziegler in the rear. Jonathan took point, as they all thought it best, given that his bow could alert them to dangers the naked eye could miss.

  He glanced back every now and again at Miranda, trying to conceal his interest by then glancing around to Moose or even farther back to Ziegler. She noticed his peeking on a couple of occasions, but didn’t say anything about it. She would just avert her eyes elsewhere and continue walking. Most of the time, however, his eyes scanned the endless gray in front of him. The water had soaked him thoroughly enough that it now felt a part of him. His boots squished with each step, hemorrhaging gobs of water from the sides as his feet forced out the liquid.

  The worst part was the wind. As the sun dropped down, the wind picked up, howling over the rocks and sweeping the rain into Jonathan’s face with a terrible sting. Each heavy drop was shattered into tiny, sharp particles that ripped and poked at his skin. He had to half-close his eyes to shield himself from the rain. The storm grew fierce enough that Jonathan had to lean into the wind to keep from being blown off balance.

  They pushed through that horrid weather for an hour before Ziegler whistled. Jonathan turned to see him pointing to Bull. Jonathan looked to Bull and saw the man waving for Jonathan to come over. Jonathan hurried toward him, pulling his cloak in tight and trying not to slip up on the rocks as the wind pushed the cloak and tangled it between his legs. Jonathan arrived to see the ba
ld-headed man standing next to a black boulder.

  “Can you see any trolls here?” Bull asked as he pointed down.

  Jonathan focused on the rock and the ground beneath, but shook his head.

  Bull waved the others over. He then set his arms around the stone and hoisted it up as if it were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Bull set the rock aside and pointed down.

  Jonathan moved in, happy to be out of the weather, but apprehensive about the new tunnel. He bit his lip as he dropped down into a descent of four and a half feet before he touched the bottom. The soft earth beneath his feet gave way as the water and rain from above had already found its way down and softened it for him.

  “Make way then,” Bull said. Miranda was the next to enter the tunnel. Jonathan stepped aside and was pushed further into the hole as all of the others dropped down one by one. The archer pulled Kigabané around from his shoulder and held it firm in his hand. It still surprised him every time he gripped the dry wood. No matter how much water assaulted them, the weapon was always protected. He found himself wishing the same enchantment had been placed on him.

  “Any sign of trolls?” Ziegler asked, ripping Jonathan away from his thoughts.

  Jonathan shook his head. “Nothing,” he said.

  “Good. Follow me. We camped in this tunnel after your brother was captured. It opens up into a chamber about fifty yards from here. There are no offshoots though, it’s just a den. So, if there are no trolls, then we can camp here for the night.”

  Jonathan kept close to Ziegler until they made it into the chamber. Their eyes attuned themselves to the dark just enough that they could keep from bumping into each other, but they couldn’t really see anything. Jonathan only knew they had reached the chamber because the left side of the wall opened up and there was nothing left to put his hand along as he walked.

  “Bear, you have your tinder kit?” Ziegler asked.

  Jonathan heard some shuffling in the darkness. Click-click-click. A spark flashed, and the tiny light nearly blinded Jonathan. His eyes contracted so sharply that they ached, but then they opened up as Bear nurtured a baby flame atop a small candle. The thing was no bigger than a man’s middle finger, but the light it provided cut through most of the darkness in the chamber.

  Jonathan looked around and saw a pile of green and gray bodies off in the corner.

  “We’ll set up camp over here,” Ziegler said as he pointed to the opposite end of the chamber.

  The others walked by Jonathan as the boy continued to stare at the dead trolls. Dried blood lined their bodies, and their limbs were contorted in unspeakable ways, as if they had been dumped in a hurry and then left.

  Jonathan knew that was exactly what had happened. If the Ghosts had camped here before, then that meant they must have killed the previous inhabitants. Not wanting to waste the time burying the bodies, they had just piled them off to one side.

  He broke his stare and turned away from the repulsive sight. He moved up to the others and they began arranging their weapons and packs around the floor.

  “We don’t have anything to build a larger fire with,” Bear said. “Shall we ask the girl to dry our socks?”

  Jonathan looked to Ziegler, the dancing candlelight played upon the man’s form as he turned and shook his head. “We can make do with wet feet for a day. Pull your boots and socks off so your feet can dry out in the air. No reason to risk using magic this close. We make for Shadowbore tomorrow.”

  Ziegler didn’t say it, but Jonathan understood the implication. Either they would win tomorrow and have all the time in the world to build a proper fire to dry themselves, or they would all be dead, and there would no longer be a need for dry socks. Jonathan frowned and dropped onto the floor. He pulled his boots off and then peeled his socks from his feet. He couldn’t see very well in the candlelight, as Bear had moved farther away from him, but his toes seemed to feel fine. He wiggled them and spread them, letting the air work around his cold, wet flesh. Then, he moved in with his hands to check the skin on his feet. His toes were a bit wrinkled, but no worse than they had been at other times along the journey.

  Miranda’s staff slapped to the ground next to him. Jonathan looked up to see the young woman sit nearby and pull her boots and socks off as well. She moved them off to the side and then smiled at him briefly.

  “I’m nervous,” she said.

  He nodded. “We’ll find them,” Jonathan promised.

  Miranda nodded again and then smiled as she pulled a few strands of wet hair off of her face. She had already removed her cloak and laid it out a few feet away on the ground. She put her hands down behind her and then bit her lip as she looked to her knees. “You never questioned me,” she said after a moment.

  Jonathan looked at her, but he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure where she was going with the conversation.

  She turned to him and smiled. “Thank you for that,” she said.

  Jonathan shrugged. “What was there to question?” he asked.

  Miranda’s smile widened and she lowered herself down to rest upon her elbows. “Do you think we will actually return home?” she asked, changing the subject slightly.

  Jonathan thought of Rourke and Sami. There was a large part of him that didn’t believe they would live through the night, let alone the day ahead, but he was not about to say that to her. How could he? He took in a breath and then nodded with feigned confidence. “I know we will,” he said as he put on a smile for her.

  Miranda laughed once and shook her head. “You’re not very good at lying are you?” she asked. Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up and he started to protest, but Miranda kept laughing. “Don’t look so insulted,” she said. “It’s actually a nice quality to have.”

  Jonathan shrugged. “I suppose if I had to be bad at something, there are worse options.”

  Miranda nodded. “So what will you do if we do survive,” she said as she wiggled her feet just enough to kick his leg playfully. “Will you go back to your farm and cut hay for the rest of your life?”

  Jonathan cocked his head to the side. “I guess I haven’t thought about it much lately,” he said honestly. “I suppose that would be the proper thing to do. Pa and Memaw could use the help around the fields. I certainly don’t want to be a soldier anymore if I get out of here.”

  “Ah, so you want to settle down and start a family do you?” Miranda pressed.

  Jonathan looked to her and his cheeks flushed. He turned away, though there wasn’t any way she could see him blush in the dim light of Bear’s candle. “I suppose someday,” he said. “I can think of worse things to do with one’s life than to work a field and raise a family.” He cleared his throat and threw the focus on her. “What about you?”

  “Would I work a field?” Miranda asked playfully.

  “No, I mean what would you do?”

  Miranda dropped down and put her hands behind her head. “I suppose I would go to study magic in Lehemat. That’s what my father did when he was my age. Or maybe I would go and travel to Teo.”

  “The elven trading port?”

  “Yep,” Miranda replied excitedly. “I think I have seen enough swamp and rain. I want to see Tanglewood Forest and one of the elven cities. If I went to Teo, then maybe I could even find a ship and go sailing to other ports, see parts of the world that I have only read about in books.”

  “You know,” Jonathan started. “Tirnog is only a couple hundred miles north of Holstead. I heard it’s a beautiful city, and it would get you farther into Tanglewood Forest than going to Teo would.” The young boy fidgeted with his thumbs, wondering how she might like the idea.

  “Ah, but Teo is set upon the beautiful cliffs overlooking the sea,” Miranda replied. “The port bustles below while the towers stand upon the cliffs and you can see for hundreds of miles across the ocean.”

  Jonathan suddenly felt dumb for suggesting Tirnog. “Yeah, I guess Tirnog doesn’t have anything like that,” he said sheepishly.

  A few momen
ts of silence ensued and then Miranda leaned up onto an elbow and looked at Jonathan. “Although,” she began. “I suppose if I went to Tirnog, I could stop in to see you and your fields, if that’s alright I mean.”

  Jonathan smiled wide. “I could even show you the way to Tirnog from my house,” he offered, though he had surely never been anywhere near Tirnog in all of his life.

  “How about you just propose marriage and get it over with?” Bull snorted from a few yards away.

  Miranda dropped down onto her back and the conversation, as well as the moment, were now finished. Jonathan sighed and began to lay down as well. He might have started thinking about what he would do if Miranda did show up at his home, but Ziegler approached and silently grabbed his shoulder, stealing all chances Jonathan might have had to imagine such things.

  “Come with me,” Ziegler said in a low whisper.

  Jonathan grabbed his bow and the two of them slowly made their way to the tunnel. The candlelight barely did more than outline Ziegler’s face by the time they reached the tunnel, but Jonathan could still tell that something was weighing upon Ziegler’s mind.

  “What is it?” Jonathan asked.

  Ziegler was silent for a moment, glancing back to the group and then to Jonathan. “There is something you need to know,” he said. “I will do everything I can to get Jason and Miranda back home.” Captain Ziegler stopped talking and Jonathan scrunched up his brow as he wondered what the point of saying that was. Ziegler reached out and grabbed Jonathan’s shoulder and squeezed. “I tell you this, because I need something from you.”

  “What?” Jonathan asked.

  “Before your brother was captured, he scouted out part of Shadowbore. He found a waterway inside that led deeper into the lair. It seemed to run parallel with the tunnel itself, leading down into the trolls’ home. The actual tunnel itself is blocked and guarded by many trolls, as well as different kinds of traps. Jason thought that if we could go down the waterway, we could surprise the trolls.”

 

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