Amber had looked at them, critically. “Was her that was blubbering!”
“Where’s Gerdy?” Myra had asked.
“Jed wouldn’t let her come.”
“It’s never stopped her before.” Epik had seen something behind Myra’s green blue eyes. Hurt.
Now, Epik dreamed of Myra—no, that wasn’t right. He dreamed of Gerdy. When he woke, restlessly, every few minutes, he pretended the dreams were of Myra. He thought of closing the gap between them. And then he thought better.
His eyes were open, and he was contemplating the weirdness of his dreams when a stone pelted the back of his head. He jerked up and around. The embers of the fire crackled and glowed, lighting the trees and brush around them. Another stone hit him, this time square in the forehead. He rolled over, blocking his face from another oncoming rock.
“Who is it?” he whispered.
“Pssst,” he heard. He couldn’t see anything, but he could locate the general direction of the sound. Epik untangled himself from the cloak and stood quietly, checking, but not counting, that bodies were flat and still—they were.
The halfling crept into the wood.
“Hello?” he said blearily. “Dad?”
“Shhh.” His father, or the Shadow of his father, was nothing more than a dark shape among the tree trunks. “Follow me,” he said.
The Shadow walked eerily over rocks and twigs, never making a sound as it stepped on leaves. The harder Epik tried to concentrate on his father’s form, the more his eyes wanted to glance off and lose it.
Epik tried to speak, but his father shushed him again, and he tripped over a fallen log. The farther away from camp they went, the darker and more treacherous the hike became.
Finally, his father stopped. There were no changes to the wood, no hint as to why this place was better than any other. But they were far enough away, Epik knew, that none of the company would hear him should he talk…or should he scream.
“Did you bring me all this way, just to say goodbye?” Epik asked. “Because I said goodbye to you a long time ago. You probably just didn’t know it.”
“Something like that,” the Shadow said. “Harsh words to say to someone who has saved your life… Twice.”
“Thanks for that,” Epik said uncomfortably.
“I don’t imagine anyone ever truly gets over something like what I’ve put you through. I don’t want to say I’ve been mistaken. But I have been foolish. It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time,” Epik said.
“No, I don’t think we do.”
Typically, at a moment like this, a twig snaps in the woods, but no twigs were harmed in this forest, not on this night.
“I hate to break up this little convention,” Coe’s voice was like a knife in the back. It pierced Epik’s heart with unimaginable force. “Sorry, that’s a lie.” The ranger laughed sourly.
Not now, Epik thought. He wanted to call for Gabby’s help, but a shout would do little. Gabby had told him what to do with the wand, how draw the emotion and bind it with the magic in the back of his mind. Now was the time, he knew it. This was the moment he needed magic most. Epik reached for the wand, but his back pocket was empty. He’d probably left it laying inside his cloak by the fire.
There was nothing for him to do, nothing for him to try.
But his father, Epik thought. His father could outsmart trolls and orcs. He could slip unnoticed around the company. He could—
“Come to clean up someone else’s mess?” His father’s Shadow backed away, growing even dimmer, fusing with the pitch black of the night. Epik’s eyes followed, just barely, but he knew that if his eyes could see him then so too could the ranger's. “You know he hired me, don’t you? That this was all his plot. And his own daughter in peril the way I see it.”
Collus didn’t take the bait. Instead, he made his case. “I should have known the two of you were in cahoots,” he said. “Still, I’m impressed, tricking a family of trolls all this way. It takes some bravado. Some skill. The way you looked with that orc, that was some acting.”
“The lad here had nothing—“
“You’d say that, wouldn’t you?” There was a fire in the ranger’s voice. He raised his sword in his weaker hand but drew his crossbow in the other. He aimed it right at what seemed to be Epik’s father’s chest. “I sensed you in the wood by the elves. I sensed something. You’re not as good as you think you are.”
“He’s unarmed,” Epik said. “You can take us in.”
“That’s not exactly true,” the Shadow said. “Epik, run!” The Shadow brandished something, whether it was a twig or a knife Epik couldn’t tell, but it was pointed and was brandished threateningly in Collus’s direction. Then something metallic glinted in a shimmer of moonlight.
Everything happened all at once. His father lunged, and Coe acted, using his sword for protection. He shot a bolt straight for the Shadow’s heart. In the mix of this, Epik reacted too, but too slowly to do any good. He jumped at the ranger, pushing the crossbow up, shortly after the bolt had flown. They heard it lodge deep inside something.
“He wasn’t a threat,” Epik yelled. “You didn’t have to… Dad? Dad?“
Coe brushed the halfling off of him. “You can come back to the camp as my hostage, or you can end up like him. It’s your call.”
Epik groped the ground but was unable to find the body in the black brush. Hot tears streamed down the halfling’s face.
“We’ll come back in the morning for the body.”
The ranger tugged him by the neck of his shirt. Epik tried to pull away, halfhearted. He just needed to know one thing. He grasped around the ground, finding at last what his father had held in his hand—a dagger, the dagger. How he’d taken it from Gabby, Epik wasn’t sure.
It took a long time for them to stumble back through the wood, and Epik could barely see through tear-filled eyes. When they reached the firelight, Coe snatched the dagger away. The ranger searched the sleeping bodies. He found the wizard snuggled inside his robe, his back propped up on a log, his hat covering most of his face. The sounds of his snore rang out.
“Your friend won’t be able to save you from what’s to come,” the ranger said. “And don’t try to wander off. I sleep with one eye open.”
The ranger was true to his word. While one eye rested, the other stayed partially open, darting left and right.
The sergeant had never seen a more somber crew—which was saying something, as he’d worked in the Watch for twenty years. He didn’t know who to believe: the wizard, the halfling, or Coe. So, like the rest of the company, he kept his mouth shut as they readied themselves to head back to the city.
Myra and the child were the only ones to protest. The problem was that Epik was likable; almost everyone who came in contact with the halfling warmed to him, and Todder was no exception. Even the dwarves seemed to hold their tongues. And there were moments it seemed Rotrick was about to speak, only to sputter when Collus sneered.
“I’ll prove it!” Coe said. “His little halfling friend’s body is just up the way.”
The thought of another halfling stirred something in Todder’s mind. He remembered being drunk last night. He caught pieces, little glimpses of memory. But he couldn’t hold on to any of them. They faded to a squidgy blackness.
The wizard had talked Collus out of tying Epik up. He walked along with them, a bit more reluctantly than the day before, even more reluctant than he’d been heading into battle. Hadn’t the boy done his part, Todder thought. The little half of a man had taken down an orc for gods’ sake. It seemed wrong to punish him.
But what if what the ranger was saying were true? It wasn’t, Todder told himself, and something in the back of his mind agreed.
“There’s no need to prove it,” the wizard said shakily. “No reason to subject the lad to see that scene again. You’ve already killed the boy’s father before his eyes.” Gabby put a hand to Todder’s soldier. “Sergeant,” he said. “Do you mind giving me a hand? Todder and
I will take care of burying the body, just point us to it.”
“I’ll bury him myself,” Coe said. “I don’t need—“
“A little compassion can go a long way, you know,” the wizard said.
“But I need to see him,“ Epik started. “Just once.”
“No, stay here,” Gabby said to the halfling softly. “I assure you it is for the best.” It was a command.
“Fine!” Coe grimaced.
“He’s just down there,” the ranger pointed, “probably a mile… And what if you can’t find the body? I can go with you, you know!”
“If I couldn’t find a body, what kind of wizard would I be?”
“The typical kind,” Collus said snidely.
Gabby and Todder set off into the wood; they took Wellspoken’s pickaxe to dig up the ground.
Partway into the wood, the sergeant felt something fizzle over his mind; it felt like a warm blanket. Suddenly his feet were lighter; his mood was merrier. He smelled the smell of berries or wine. Euphoria.
“You’re brighter than you let on,” the wizard said to him darkly.
“I am?” Todder said cheerily.
The wizard smiled a knowing smile. They came to a small clearing. There was nothing there but leaves and twigs, nothing to indicate anything had happened on this spot at all.
They stood there several moments, not saying a word. Todder tried fumbling it all together but his mind wouldn’t work just right. The wizard’s Shadow had been in the wood. The wizard’s Shadow was Epik’s father. No, that couldn’t be right. The wizard was Epik’s father. He had to be.
Sizzle.
Todder’s mind was blank again.
“Here, give it to me.” Gabby took the pickaxe and hastily swept over the ground, mounding a pile of dirt. “Just in case they decide to have a look.”
So, there was no death out here. Only a mound of dirt, Todder thought.
“Well, I think that should be enough time,” Gabby said.
Sizzle.
Todder felt odd. They were supposed to have done something. Oh, he remembered. They did do something. They had buried the body of a halfling. Hadn’t they? He surveyed the area. There was definitely a mound of dirt—that was for certain. But nothing else caught his eye. Oh, well, except a lone bolt from a crossbow buried halfway into the trunk of a tree. That was odd, Todder thought, walking back to join the company. Very odd.
31
Menancing Regiment
The journey back to the city was about as uneventful as the previous day had been eventful. They came across some travelers after reaching the road, and Coe paid them a good few pennies to buy a pony for Myra and the little girl to ride.
This tiny bit of comfort eased Epik’s spirit. He split a small piece of bread he found hidden inside his pack with Myra and the girl, who was still looking worse for wear.
“You didn’t give Amber any of that medicine?”
“What medicine?” Coe said wryly.
Epik had shown some of his cards and stupidly continued. “The stuff Mister Epiman gave you.”
Coe looked at him with sharp eyes. “I’m not gonna ask how you know about that. But no, it was just enough for Myra. The little girl will just have to be happy enough to come away with her life.”
“Lad,” Todder said, wedging himself between Collus and Epik. “I think it may be best not to say anything more.”
“Agreed,” the wizard said. He had been oddly quiet the entire journey.
Collus gave him an odd look.
“Are you sure you want to be headed back for the city? Last I checked you were an escaped convict. Perhaps you and the lad here can share a cell. God knows he doesn’t take up much room, now does he?”
Epik pictured the dank prison cells. Breaking Gabby out seemed a lifetime ago. It was his dad who plagued his thoughts now. After so many years, so many questions—he’d been so close to knowing the answers. And then the ranger’s bolt had extinguished all hope.
A burning feeling welled deep in the pit of the halfling’s belly. For once, vengeance and revenge were the right words and the ones that came to mind.
The company made decent time heading back to the city; it was close to twilight when they neared the gate. But what they found wasn’t what any of them expected.
“The damn thing’s locked,” Todder barked. “It’s not supposed to close for another hour. The damn halfwits.”
“Oh, I’m not sure it’s a mistake,” Gabby said. “We may find ourselves unwelcome.”
“Unwelcome?” Coe laughed. “In our own city? After what we just did? No, I expect a feast tonight.”
“Feasts!” Two-finger rang out.
“With the king,” Rotrick said.
“Exactly, with the king,” Coe echoed. “And I expect Mister Epiman is paying for my meals from now to eternity.”
“I wouldn’t mind a small affair at the Rotten Apple,” Wellspoken said. “Just the lot of us.”
“You dream small,” Rotrick said.
“Well,” Wellspoken said. “I am a bit small.”
“I’ll get us in,” Todder said confidently. “Someone’s bound to be around here.” He strode up to the gate with the all the pride that someone who’d worked there for twenty years before getting the sack could muster.
It was quite a bit.
He tried to shake it open. He banged on it. Nothing. He banged on it again. Nothing. Todder tried grappling it by its hinges, yanking it backward. “This is horsesh—”
“It won’t budge,” Gabby said.
“I know that,” Todder said. “It locks from the inside. I was giving it the old wossname, college, try.”
“Surely,” Coe said snarkily to the wizard, “you could do something. Take out the wand of yours and give it a little flick.”
Epik remembered that he still had the wand, hidden somewhere in his cloak.
“Possibly,” Gabby said, “but it’s not very sporting now is it. There’s another way into the city.” He gazed down to the Wall’s east side.
Coe nodded, and the company followed, edging along the Wall to the crumbled opening that the trolls had made good use of. But as they rounded onto it, they found it blocked as well. Not with a gate, or boulders, but with bodies. Far more soldiers than had guarded the wall against the trolls.
Sergeant Brendan Sands stood there with a smattering of Watch, but more importantly, with a regiment of Palace Guard. Minus their purple coats and plumed hats, the Guard wore fine bronze breastplates, helmets, and shields, prepared for real battle.
They looked a whole heck of a lot more menacing, Epik thought.
Brendan halted the company’s progress by raising the palm of his hand. Twisting his head to both sides, he ensured that his back was covered by the more experienced troops and walked out to greet his former partner. Halfway there, he turned again as if to ensure the regiment was still there in support.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Todder asked.
“Yes, I’d like to know that too,” Coe said.
Brendan looked back again. One more time. “Look,” he said, “we have orders. We’re, um, here to bar you from entering the city.” The boy took a breath. “Oh, and, uh… we’re supposed to take the girl.”
“Bar us from the city?” Collus wasn’t laughing this time. “You realize what we just did? What we did for this city, I remind. What we sacrificed!”
Brendan counted the company. “It doesn’t look like you sacrificed much. I count the same men who left.”
“I lost a toe,” Two-finger said, raising his bloody foot.
“Time,” Coe said. “We sacrificed time. I’m expecting a big pay day, and it’s right in there.”
“The king’s a fool if he thinks he can—” Rotrick began to argue.
Brendan looked back one more time. “The king is dead,” he whispered. “We have a new one.”
“He’s what?” Epik asked though he’d heard it just fine with his ears pricked.
“Dead,” Brendan sa
id in a uselessly loud whisper. “Some of the men back there, they don’t even know. It’s the Grand Counselor; he’s taken the throne. Um, by force.”
“Well, now they know,” the wizard said; a bit of a grin parted his lips.
“Listen,” Brendan said. “I’m sorry. But if you come any closer, we’ll be forced to… Erm…”
“Take action?” Two-finger offered.
“Right, take action.”
Brendan began to walk away, then remembered the girl. “Miss,” he said, “you’re to come with me. Up to the castle.”
No one made a real show of stopping her leaving, though Epik did struggle slightly watching her. Banishment, he thought, is better than prison.
“What about us?” Amber said. She tried to run into the city. One of Brendan’s men stopped her.
“And me?” K’nexes looked sure he would be saved. “I’m just an errand elf. Mister Epiman told me to go.”
Brendan shook his head. “Only Myra is to come back.”
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed to them. Then she found her voice. “But Dad’d kill me if I tried to stage some sort of protest. He hates that kind of thing…” she trailed off.
They watched her walk away before retreating a ways back from the Wall.
“You just let her leave, huh?” Gabby said. “Wasn’t she the sole reason you came on this journey?”
Epik nodded.
“And you just let her be taken captive like that?”
“Captive?” Epik asked, though the same word parted several other lips.
Gabby looked flummoxed. “You have to know that Mister Epiman is next in line to the throne?”
The company shrugged. “He is?”
“I knew,” K’nexes offered.
“I didn’t…” Epik looked to the castle, over the Wall and past the river, high atop the city. One lonely tower had its light on. “But if Mister Epiman’s the rightful king—”
“Killing him and marrying his daughter would almost make the Grand Counselor’s claim legitimate, now wouldn’t it?”
“It’s true,” Todder said, remembering the boy's conversation the other night. “It’s that heraldry nonsense.”
Hero in a Halfling Page 21
