Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 01] - The Fifth Ring (v1.0)

by Mitchell Graham

  Collin whistled. "I've never seen any steel like this. It looks sharp enough to shave with." He tentatively tested the edge with his thumb, and pulled it back quickly. "It's sharp, all right. I bet it's worth a bunch. Want to trade? I have the most attractive bowl. I'm sure you'd just love it."

  In spite of himself, Mathew smiled.

  "I guess we had better get over there before all the food is gone," Mathew said.

  Daniel and Lara were seated together, already eating, but they had saved places for Collin and Mathew. After they sat down, Collin returned Lara's speculative look with a nod and a quick wink. He leaned over to whisper some­thing in her ear but didn't get the opportunity to do so when Elona Marshal brought a large plate of food over and put it down in front of him with a shy smile.

  "I thought you might be a little hungry after all that hard work," she said. She put a hand gently on his shoul­der and added, "We're all so proud of you—all of you."

  "Thanks. I just did my part. We all did," Collin said, motioning to the others at the table.

  "Oh, of course. That's what I meant. Are you going to stay for the dance?"

  "You know me, I wouldn't miss a dance for anything. Maybe you'll save one for me." He grinned at her.

  Elona's smile broadened. "I'd love to," she said quietly.

  "Mmm . . . this is great," Collin said, taking a bite of the meat. "I was starving." He was about to take another bite when he noticed Elona staring at him oddly. He raised his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

  "Oh, no," she answered quickly, with a small giggle. "Beckie said you have big shoulders. I was just looking at them. I guess I'd better run back in case anyone else needs me. Eat your dinner before it gets cold. See you all later."

  Collin watched her walk away, observing the little sway of her hips. He was imagining what it would be like dancing a lively jig with a pretty girl like Elona when a high-pitched voice interrupted his thoughts.

  "Oh, you have such big shoulders," Daniel said, flutter­ing his eyelashes.

  Collin's ears went red and he spun around, only to find three blank expressions looking back at him.

  "Fine bunch of friends you are. It's getting so a fellow can't even pass a few innocent words with a nice girl be­fore you all jump on him."

  Mathew and Lara were trying their best to keep their faces straight, then Daniel added in a nasal falsetto voice, "Would you save me a dance too, you . .. big ... strong .. . man?"

  He only just managed to duck as Collin threw a roll at his head. Lara, Daniel, and Mathew immediately burst into one of those uncontrollable bouts of laughter that sometimes happens to people in public places. A moment later, despite his best attempts at looking annoyed, Collin started to laugh as well.

  A few tables away, Bran Lewin and Siward Thomas watched the four of them convulsing in hysterics, al­though at what, neither had the faintest idea. They ex­changed glances with each other, shaking their heads in bemusement.

  It took Collin little time to finish his food, and he sat back contentedly sipping on a mug of good, cold berry wine and enjoying the evening. Mathew and Lara had moved to the end of the table and were talking with each other, their heads close together, and Daniel was talking to Sue Anderson at the next table.

  Beckie Enders came by then to refill Collin's plate. He was so pleasantly full at that moment, the last thing he wanted was more food, but he thanked her neverthe­less. She responded by giving him an unreadable smile, which only served to increase his discomfort. While she was walking away, he noticed that she and Elona said something to each other as they passed. He wished he knew what it was. A little voice in his head told him that he had better make sure and dance with both girls before the night was over.

  Anyway, that won't be such a bad thing, he thought. There is nothing like a good jig to get a fellow's blood going.

  While he was wondering how to discreetly get rid of the extra food without offending Beckie, the music started up. His problem was solved in the form of Daniel's dog, Goldie, who was seated nearby waiting for an opportunity to help with any leftovers.

  Dogs are always hungry, aren't they?

  Looking surreptitiously around to make sure no one was watching, Collin whistled softly and quickly placed the plate of food under the table. Goldie scampered over and wasted no time clearing the plate off. It was gone so fast, Collin made a mental note to speak with Daniel about feeding his dog more often.

  People soon began leaving the tables and drifting to­ward the music. The brothers, Akin and Fergus, were

  playing a lively tune called "Tarrydown Lass," and sev­eral couples were dancing already.

  Off to the side, Ella Emson had finally succeeded in cornering Bran, and was talking to him about something or other. One thing was certain—the folk of Devondale loved a celebration. More and more people joined in, forming a circle and clapping their hands in time to the music. A group of four men and women took the middle, locked elbows and alternated crossing back and forth with each other's partner. When they were finished, oth­ers replaced them, as the music got faster and faster. Collin joined the larger circle and began clapping in time along with the rest. Verna Darcy and Ben Fenton, who were engaged to be married that summer, also joined in, along with Maria Farolain and, of all people, Lieutenant Herne.

  He was about to check and see what Mathew was up to when Lara scampered up with him in tow. She grabbed Collin's hand, pulling the both of them into the circle where Elona was waiting to become his partner. Two boys from Mechlen joined them with two of the local De­vondale girls.

  It took an effort for Collin not to look amused at the sight of Mathew's face, a study in concentration as he struggled to make some sense of the song. Lara, of course, knew Mathew was tone deaf and covered for him nicely.

  Just as they were supposed to, the boys split off, form­ing a line on one side, and the girls threaded in and out between them, hands on their hips, as the dance contin­ued. Collin noticed that Mathew succeeded in navigating himself somewhat awkwardly around the dance floor and got through the song with only minimal damage to a few toes. When it was over, everyone smiled and clapped. It was a beautiful night, and Collin couldn't have been in better spirits.

  Mathew opted out of the next dance to go for a walk with Lara, while Collin and Elona went for punch.

  Thankfully, Beckie was dancing with Giles Naismith and seemed to be enjoying herself. Nobody seemed to mind the faint chill, and there was even a hint of jasmine in the air.

  When they got to the punch bowl, Collin noticed loud­mouth Berke Ramsey and two of his friends off to one side, drinking from a small flagon. He didn't have to guess what they were drinking. Dismissing them from his thoughts, he handed Elona her drink.

  "Collin Miller, you certainly surprise me. I didn't know you could dance like that. That was just wonderful."

  "Well, there are a lot of things about me you don't know."

  "Really? Like what?" she asked, wide-eyed.

  "Oh . . . just a lot of things." He wasn't serious when he said it, but it sounded charming and mysterious. Unfortu­nately, now he didn't know what else to say. That was the trouble with trying to be clever with a girl, he thought. It doesn 't always work out the way a fellow expects.

  An interval passed before she said anything.

  "Hmm, I wonder." Elona tilted her head to one side and looked at him more intently. The torches at the dance floor back-lit her long brown hair. "Collin, have you ever thought about what you're going to do when you're older?" she asked.

  "What'd you mean?"

  "I mean your father has a farm, and your oldest brother has a nice farm near where we live. Do you think you'll do farming as well?"

  "I can't stand farming," Collin said emphatically. "Nope. Not for me. What I'd like is to travel and see some of the world. I might even join the army ... I don't know."

  "Oh," she said softly, and turned away to watch the dancing. Neither of them spoke, and after a few minutes the silence beg
an to feel awkward. He knew it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but he couldn't just mislead her, or worse lie outright. Anyway, what was so wrong about

  wanting to see the world? Devondale was boring. Noth­ing ever happened in it. Elona was sweet, but he was only seventeen, and there were a lot of pretty young girls in the world.

  He was trying to think of something more moderate to say when she spoke first. "How long does a person have to stay in the army, Collin?" she asked.

  "Stay? I don't know really. I guess it just depends."

  "I imagine anyone as good with a sword as you are would probably be an officer, wouldn't they?"

  He shrugged. "I'm really not all that good with it, you know. Mat's much better than I am. Now, if they let me use my long staff, that would be something."

  "Are you good with that too?"

  "Sure am. I can already beat my dad—at least most of the time. And he wins the competition each year."

  "But isn't a sword better to use?"

  "A man who knows how to use a good long staff can hold his own against anyone. At least, that's what my dad always says. C'mon, let me show you."

  Grateful for the change of subject, Collin took her hand and led her to where he'd left his things. He picked up his staff and proce'eded to demonstrate what he hoped was an impressive series of spins, blocks, and strikes against an imaginary opponent. Elona watched with apparent fasci­nation. When he finished, she clapped delightedly.

  "Here, you try."

  "Me? I couldn't possibly. I wouldn't know what to do."

  "C'mon, it's easy. I'll show you." Getting behind her, he put the staff in her hands—and his arms around her at the same time. "This is the first position. You see?"

  "Yes, I see," she said, looking back at him.

  "Uh. . . actually it's a little better if you pretend there's a person in front of you," he prompted.

  "All right," she said, snuggling her shoulders backward against his chest. "What do I do now?"

  For the next few minutes Collin showed her some sim­ple moves, and she told him how impressed she was, even though he wasn't sure she was paying that much atten­tion. He was trying to teach her a block and cross strike when a he heard a slurred voice.

  "You should use a man's weapon, not a toothpick, if you want to fight someone."

  Collin turned to see Berke Ramsey and his teammate, Evert Sindri, standing a few feet away. From the grins on their faces and the way they were swaying, he guessed that they were more than just a little drunk. Uninvited, the two approached.

  "This is good enough," Collin said.

  "Collin's teaching me how to defend myself," Elona said brightly.

  "Well, I'm sure he's doing a wonderful job, and I bet you won't even throw up if you get scared," Berke said.

  Impressed by his witticism, Berke and Evert burst into laughter.

  "Excuse me?" Elona said.

  "Didn't Collin tell you? His friend Mathew was so scared at the competition, he threw up."

  To her credit, Elona lifted her chin. "I'm sure if Mathew threw up, he had a very good reason for it. And I seem to recall him beating you, didn't he?"

  Berke made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Play­ing with little practice blades is one thing, nobody gets hurt, but I'll wager a silver elgar that he'll run like a scared rabbit at the first sign of trouble. Cowards usually do."

  Berke -and his friend nearly doubled over with laughter again.

  Collin was about to tell them what idiots they were when he noticed that Berke was standing directly over his staff, straddling it. A quick flick of his wrist brought it up with a snap, and Berke's eyes bulged as he doubled over, grabbing himself. With a groan, he slowly sank to his knees, then toppled over onto his side. Evert started for him, and Collin swung the butt end of the staff around in a quick arc, catching him just behind the ear. Evert hit the ground next to Berke.

  Elona gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

  Both boys were lying there groaning when Father Thomas happened by, saw them, and rushed over. "My lord, what's happened here?" he asked, crouching over the boys and looking at Collin for an explanation.

  "Father, curse me for a thick-handed fool. They were just telling me what a coward Mat is, and I was snowing Elona here how to use my staff, and ... well... I guess I just wasn't paying enough attention."

  Father Thomas blinked and looked from Collin to Elona, who nodded in agreement.

  "They said that Mathew is a coward?"

  Both nodded again, vigorously.

  "Indeed?"

  Still rocking back and forth on the ground and holding his private parts, Berke let out another groan. Father Thomas considered the scene a moment longer, took a deep breath, patted Berke sympathetically on the shoul­der and stood up.

  "Well. . . breathe deeply, my son . . . breathe deeply," he said, then stepped over Berke's body and hurried back to the dance.

  7

  Devondale

  Collin and Elona followed Father Thomas's Ex­ample and hastily made their way back to the dance, where they found Mathew and Lara just returning from their walk, holding hands and laughing. Neither men­tioned the incident that had just occurred. The music was still playing, and everyone seemed to be enjoying them­selves. Mathew was about to ask Collin where he had been when he spied Ella Emson waving and making her way through the crowd toward him. He thought to escape but saw that it was too late.

  "Yoo-hoo, Mathew Lewin, have you seen your father around? I was talking to him a moment ago, and he just seemed to disappear."

  "No, ma'am," Mathew replied politely. "I was out for a walk myself and only just returned. I haven't seen him."

  In fact, he could see Bran standing off to one side, talk­ing with Jerrel Rozon, Thorn Calthorpe, and Father Thomas, who apparently made an effective shield, but he kept that to himself.

  Ella made a vexed sound, then sighed and scanned the area once more for her prey.

  "I think he might have gone for a walk over by the coun­cil building," Mathew offered, pointing in the opposite di­rection from where Bran and the others were conversing.

  "Oh, well then, I'll just see if I. .."

  Ella's expression froze as her voice trailed off and her mouth fell open in shock. She was staring over his shoul­der, and as he turned to see what she was looking at, the

  music abruptly stopped and someone screamed. Next to him, Lara put her hands to her mouth and gasped.

  Thad Layton stood in the middle of the dance floor, cradling his son Billy in his arms. The little boy was cov­ered in blood and his head hung back limply. Mathew was in as much shock as everyone else at the appalling sight. Even from where he stood, he could tell that the boy was dead. Somebody in the crowd yelled to call the doctor, and everyone began talking at once, asking ques­tions, as people crowded forward. Thad, unsteady on his feet, looked dumbly around him for a moment, then dropped to his knees, still holding his child. He was wearing the clothes he fanned in, and the sleeves of his vest and woolen shirt were stained dark with the child's blood.

  Father Thomas and Bran pushed their way forward, followed quickly by Jerrel Rozon and Thom Calthorpe. "My God," Father Thomas said under his breath. "What happened, Thad?"

  With Bran's help, they gently took the boy from his fa­ther's arms, laying him on the ground. Jerrel Rozon cast a speculative look at Thad Layton, then knelt down on one knee, examining the little boy's body. Even from where he stood, Mathew could see that something about the boy's arms and legs didn't seem right. They were twisted and bent at impossible angles.

  "Thad," Father Thomas repeated. "Thad, you've got to tell us what happened."

  Thad blinked and looked around, his salt and pepper hair in disarray. It seemed he didn't know where he was. "Thad, look at me, man," Father Thomas said, taking him by the shoulders. "What happened to your boy?"

  For a moment Thad's lips worked, trying to form words, but nothing came out.

  "Tell us, Thad," Bran said, kneeling down at eye l
evel with the man.

  "Boars," he said slowly. "He was out playing in the north pasture with Stefn Darcy. When they were late for dinner, Stel sent me to fetch them back. I found him lying there, Father.. . like this. There was nothing I could do .. . nothing," he repeated, as tears welled up in his eyes.

  Thad's farm was nearly ten miles outside of town, Mathew thought. He'd carried his son the entire way.

  Father Thomas reached forward and gently closed the boy's eyes before putting an arm around Thad, helping him rise. "It's all right, my son, we know ... we know."

  Abruptly, Jerrel Rozon stood up and spat on the ground. "No boar did this," he said, backing away from the body. The vehemence in his voice turned every head in his direction. "See for yourselves," he said, looking at Bran, then at Thorn Calthorpe.

  Both men exchanged glances and bent down for a closer look at the body. Rozon looked around and found Orin Kirk, one of the older boys on the Gravenhage team. "Collect your things, and get the others together," he said. "We're leaving."

  A moment later Thom Calthorpe stood up, shaking his head. "I don't know, Jerrel. It could be."

  Mathew wanted to ask his father what he'd seen about the boy's body that had upset Jerrel Rozon, but the grim expression on Bran's face stopped him.

  With a small motion of his fingers, Bran signaled Fa­ther Thomas over and whispered something in his ear, then they both moved off with Jerrel Rozon and Thom Calthorpe, talking intently. After a while, Rozon looked at the hushed gathering and asked, "Is that young Herne still here?"

  "Here, sir."

  "How many men have you?" It may have been a ques­tion, but it sounded more like an order.

  "Twelve, sir."

  Rozon's mouth tightened, but he went on quickly, "I want you to find the mayor and the rest of the town coun­cil at once. Get them out of bed if you have to, and have them meet us at the inn in half an hour—no more. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, sir, I do," Herne answered. He turned and began

  issuing orders to his men, who saluted and melted away into the crowd.

  Meanwhile, Lucas Emson had spread a cloak over the little boy, then he and Akin Gibb picked the child up and carried him away. Mathew thought it odd that they were heading in the direction of the inn rather than the church.