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The Prison Of Ice & Shadows (Prophecies Of Fate Book 2)

Page 4

by T J Mayhew


  “Tell us what happened,” Cai spoke quietly, showing the men that, whatever had just happened between them, he understood their plight and held no grudge.

  Owain looked Cai directly in the eye. “They came for us…” He glanced at Bedivere. “Just as you said they would; the woman and…”

  “Morgan and Mordred,” Cai murmured, his anger and hatred for them growing every second. “Are there more of you or are you the only survivors?”

  Badden shook his head. “There are more...”

  “We had no choice but to go into hiding,” Owain explained. “We have been coming back in the hope that the vermin who did this will return.”

  “And what would you do if they did?” Galahad asked. “There are only two of you.”

  Owain scowled. “You think we don’t realise that?” he retorted. “But when we are the only men able to fight there is no other choice.”

  Bedivere frowned. “What do you mean; you’re the only two men?”

  For the first time, Owain seemed to lose his bravado; he looked at the floor, reluctant to look anyone in the eye. “Most of the men in our village were killed; they died fighting for their families, their livelihoods…” he muttered. “And those that weren’t were captured and taken from us.”

  Badden glanced around the room, his eyes settling on Bedivere. “They took our sons,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

  Cai stared at him, lost for words. “They what?” He knew from what Bedivere and Galahad had already told him that had happened in other places but to actually find himself speaking to someone who had witnessed all this first hand…

  “They took our children,” Owain repeated. “My son; he was five. They took him... I could do nothing to stop them.” He looked up at Cai, tears shining in his eyes. “I am not a knight; I know nothing of battles. I couldn’t help him; what they did… the power they used…” He shook his head, his emotions finally getting the better of him. “I let them take my boy!” he cried, falling to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Cai stared at the sobbing man at his feet, too shocked to respond; only a moment ago, he had been growling threats in Cai’s ear and now...

  Badden placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “They took my brother,” he said, continuing the story. “But they slaughtered many before we were able to escape; my wife and father was killed, as was Owain’s mother and sister. Many of us suffered.” He glanced at Cai, his gaze determined. “We come here every day, praying for their return and a chance to avenge our village.”

  “If it’s revenge you want, then come with us,” Cai declared, letting his anger and rage do the talking. “We can offer you shelter in Camelot, a chance for a better life and, you and Owain... you can join our ranks.” Cai’s smile was grim. “You may not have started out as warriors but your circumstances have taught you how to fight and my men will teach you more.”

  Owain looked up, wiping away his tears. “You would give us that chance?” he asked, his voice full of hope.

  Cai nodded. “If you want it.”

  Badden glanced at Bedivere and Galahad, his eyes filled with wonder. “You spoke the truth.”

  Galahad raised his head proudly. “That we did, my friend.”

  Owain grabbed Cai’s hand and pressed it to his forehead. “Please forgive our earlier actions,” he pleaded, unable to look Cai directly in the eye.

  Cai looked down at him, taken aback by his sudden change in mood. “You’re already forgiven,” he assured him as he tried to pull his hand away but Owain held firm.

  “I kneel before you now and offer you my services, my King,” he declared. “Whatever you ask of me, I shall do.”

  Cai pulled his hand away awkwardly, determined to put an end to this embarrassing situation. “Then take us to your camp,” he said.

  Owain nodded. “Of course, my Lord; we would be honoured to receive you.”

  Cai smiled gratefully. “If you don’t mind, we will stay with you tonight; our journey has been long and Logan needs to have his head looked at,” he said, indicating a disgruntled Logan.

  Owain glanced at Logan as Badden stepped forward and offered his hand. “Come, boy,” he said gruffly. “I am sorry for acting so rashly.”

  Logan glared up at him resentfully. Ignoring the proffered hand, he pushed himself to his feet. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Just make sure you have all the facts next time.”

  Badden smiled and nodded in acknowledgment of Logan’s words before he, and Owain, led the way outside.

  After retrieving their swords, Cai and Logan fell into step behind their new allies.

  “I don’t like them,” Logan muttered decisively.

  Cai chuckled. “You’re just saying that because Badden almost knocked you out.”

  “And… can you blame me?” Logan demanded.

  “I might wonder if your anger stems more from the fact that your pride was wounded, rather than the injury you received,” Bedivere interrupted from his place behind them.

  Cai glanced questioningly at Logan, knowing Bedivere’s words had hit a sore spot.

  “Do not let wounded pride blind you to the fact that Owain and Badden could be fearsome warriors in times of crisis, an asset to our cause,” Galahad added pointedly.

  Logan scowled. “Yeah, well, you may be right,” he conceded. “But it still doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

  Cai glanced at him pointedly, knowing that, given enough time and space, Logan would soon change his mind; after all, he wasn’t the kind of person to hold grudges for long.

  7

  Logan glared up at Merlin with, barely concealed, fury as he demanded, “Are you trying to hurt me?” He moved away, keeping a wary distance between himself and the man currently trying to help him.

  Merlin sighed as, with forced patience, he replied, “If you want me to help, I suggest you stop struggling and let me look at it.”

  Logan scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say; no one’s trying to poke around in your head, are they?”

  Merlin didn’t answer straight away; instead he fixed Logan with one of his icy, no-nonsense looks. “As I said before,” he reminded him gently, “the more you fight against me, the harder this will be for you.” He shrugged. “It’s up to you.”

  Logan stared back at Merlin and the ensuing silence stretched on for so long that Cai found his patience almost at breaking point. He glanced around; the rest of his men were glancing nervously around the village, Merlin’s earlier words and Badden and Owain’s story, no doubt, playing on their minds.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Logan,” he snapped. “Let Merlin help you so that we can get a move on.” He glanced up at the rapidly descending sun. “I want to get to the camp before it gets dark.”

  Logan scowled at Cai. “And whose side are you on?” he muttered, surrendering once more to Merlin’s ministrations.

  “No one’s,” Cai replied, watching Logan carefully, fully prepared to hold him down, himself, if necessary. “I’m just getting fed up of hearing you complain all the time.”

  Logan blushed and Cai instantly felt bad; his impatience was getting the better of him, making him snap at people who didn’t deserve it. Taking a breath, he forced himself to calm down.

  “And… there you go: good as new,” Merlin announced, stepping away from his unwilling patient and making his way back to his horse.

  “What? That’s it?” Logan asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. Reaching up, he gingerly touched his head, probing for signs it wasn’t completely healed.

  Poised, ready to pull himself into his saddle, Merlin glanced back at Logan, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You don’t believe me?”

  “No, it’s not that,” Logan insisted hastily, getting to his feet. “It’s just… I didn’t feel a thing.”

  Merlin pulled himself into his saddle and turned his horse to face Logan. “Well, I did say that once you stopped complaining it would be easier,” he pointed out. “Maybe next time you will liste
n to me,” he added, a smile creeping across his face.

  Logan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, OK, point taken.” As he caught up with Cai, he muttered, “God, he loves being right, doesn’t he?”

  Before Cai could reply, they heard Merlin say, “Do not presume me too old to be deaf to your observations, Logan.”

  Cai stifled a laugh as Logan’s face paled. Tugging on Logan’s arm, he said, “Come on; we need to get going.” Logan nodded and they set off towards their horses. After a moment, Cai glanced at him. “Look… about before; I didn’t mean…”

  Logan shrugged. “It’s fine,” he insisted. “We’re all on edge.”

  Cai nodded, grateful his friend understood. Retrieving their horses, they led them back to the awaiting men. Breaking away from the rest, Cai walked over to Badden and Owain who stood apart from the main crowd.

  “Are you ready, my Lord?” Owain asked, his earlier gruff tones and threatening demeanour cast aside in favour of quiet respect.

  Cai nodded. “We are; take us to your camp.”

  Owain and Badden inclined their heads before turning and leading the way out of the only place they had ever called home. The walk through the village was sombre and, it was clear to Cai, a very painful reminder to them both of what they had been through and of what they had lost.

  The men walked in silence as a mark of respect as they left the village; none of them spoke, each sensing that Badden and Owain were in no mood to talk. Cai glanced around as they walked, taking in as much as he could; he didn’t want to ever forget this sight. He intended to make sure Mordred and Morgan paid for inflicting so much pain and suffering on these innocent people.

  As they reached the edge of the village Badden paused, his attention drawn to one house in particular. This one, like a few of the others in this part of the village, was not as damaged as the ones they had already explored. Owain put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and murmured words of comfort while Cai and his men stood respectfully to one side, giving them a moment of privacy.

  After a few moments, Badden nodded and, casting one final, longing look at the house, walked away, leaving whatever haunted him behind.

  Owain glanced at Cai and nodded, signalling they were ready to continue on their way.

  Cai glanced at Merlin before falling into step behind Owain, guiding his horse around the side of the house. As they reached the back, Cai found himself facing a steep grassy bank, the top of which was obscured by a dense wooded area. His attention was drawn to Rei as she shifted nervously beside him, tugging against the reins Cai held.

  Reaching up, he patted the horse’s neck, trying to calm her. He glanced at Owain. “I don’t think the horses will make it up there,” he said.

  Owain glanced up the steep incline then back at Cai as if realising his mistake for the first time. “No, I don’t suppose…”

  “We could leave men here to watch them,” Logan suggested.

  Cai nodded, quickly reaching a decision. “Merlin, Bedivere and Galahad, you’ll come with me and Logan…” He cast his eyes over the rest of his men and, raising his voice, said, “The rest of you will stay here for the night…”

  Owain gestured vaguely towards the houses. “You can find shelter in the houses, if you like.”

  “Are you sure?” one of the men asked doubtfully.

  Owain nodded. “Quite sure.”

  The man nodded, appreciating the offer.

  Cai glanced at him. “If you see anything strange…”

  The man inclined his head. “We shall make enough noise to wake the dead.” He smiled ruefully. “You shall hear us for miles around, my Lord.”

  Cai smiled.

  “Our camp is not far away,” Owain announced. He glanced at Badden now kneeling on the ground further up the slope, his gaze fixed on the grass. “We could not bear to leave...” His voice grew stronger as he turned back to Cai. “Rest assured, you will hear your men if trouble befalls them and we have our own lookouts posted up there,” he added, moving his gaze to the woods above.

  Cai nodded, satisfied, and, turning to Rei, patted her neck. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised. He smiled at the man waiting to take her reins as he handed them over.

  The man bowed. “I will look after her, my Lord,” he promised.

  “Thanks,” Cai murmured, giving Rei one final, longing look. He turned back to Owain. “OK, let’s go.”

  Owain nodded, his jaw set in determination as he led the way; looking up at them as they passed, Badden rose to his feet and soon fell into step beside his friend. It wasn’t long before they entered the woods and Cai glanced around for signs of people on guard duty; he was curious and eager to meet these people, people who had gone up against Morgan and Mordred and lived to tell the tale… but, to his disappointment, he saw no one.

  “Where are your men?” Cai asked, glancing at Badden and Owain.

  Badden smirked. “They are well placed and well hidden, my Lord,” he replied enigmatically. “They are not far.”

  Cai fell silent, embarrassed. Of course, how stupid he must have sounded; after all, what kind of lookouts would they be if a sixteen-year-old boy could see them?

  After walking through dense woodland for about ten minutes, Cai spotted the camp in a clearing ahead, its presence given away only by low burning campfires and the sound of soft voices drifting towards them. As he stepped out of the trees, Cai was hit by the desperate state of the survivors, made up mostly of women and young girls. On surveying the scene before him, he noticed the pitiful state of the makeshift shelters and beds strewn around the clearing, offering no real protection from the elements.

  More importantly, he saw the desolation in their faces and the look of suspicion and mistrust in their eyes. His heart went out to them for it was clear these people were in desperate need of more than just food, water and shelter; they needed another home, a place to heal and grow. But, more than that, they needed hope.

  Gradually, murmurs had filled the camp as people began to recognise Galahad and Bedivere from their previous visit and all cast furtive, frightened glances towards the newcomers.

  All but one.

  A girl about the same age as Cai and Logan sat on a log on the other side of the camp, staring brazenly at Cai; her gaze was hard and unyielding as she continued to sharpen her dagger. She only pulled her eyes away when she saw Badden walking towards her and, standing, she embraced the older man, her demeanour softening immediately. As Badden stepped away, he brushed stray tendrils of hair from her face as he spoke quietly to her.

  Cai watched the exchange silently, unable to stop staring at the girl; she was unlike any girl he’d ever seen. Yes, she was dirty and looked exhausted but Cai couldn’t help noticing how, in the firelight, her eyes shone with a fierce determination. Her dark hair was pulled back into a rough ponytail and she wore a loose fitting, stained, brown shirt and trousers; the dagger she had been sharpening was now sheathed in the belt at her waist. Cai watched her hug Badden again noting how different she now seemed to the girl who had been glaring at him only moments before.

  He quickly looked away as Badden left the girl, fearful she might catch sight of him watching her. He frowned as he saw Logan grinning inanely back at him.

  Cai scowled. “What?” he demanded.

  Logan shook his head and shrugged. “Nothing, just...” He looked past Cai at the girl and his grin widened. “You’ve got good taste,” he commented approvingly.

  Cai rolled his eyes, feeling himself blush. “Shut up,” he muttered. “And stop grinning like that; you look like an idiot.”

  Logan’s laughter echoed in his head as Cai joined Merlin and the others.

  “What happens now?” he asked, glancing at Merlin. “Do I start talking or what?”

  Merlin smiled at him. “Be patient, Cai; allow Badden and Owain to speak first. They trust them; we, on the other hand, are strangers.”

  Making his way over to them, Owain indicated Bedivere and Galahad. “These men came to see us once,”
he began, looking around as people gathered closer to hear him. “And they told us of a boy who would stand against the evils of this world.” He glanced at Cai briefly before continuing, “We, however, did not wish to listen; we were content to remain oblivious to the problems we faced until…” He dropped his gaze to the ground, taking a moment for himself and whatever memories scarred him. “…Until we could ignore them no longer.” He glanced at his friends and neighbours and when he next spoke, his voice was stronger, more determined. “These men have now returned, bringing with them a hope we thought we had lost…”

  “Hope?” someone scoffed at the back of the crowd. “There is no hope in this world, not for us.”

  The voice was bitter and angry. Cai followed the sound back to its source and was taken aback when he realised the voice belonged to the girl who had caught his attention earlier.

  “Aelwen…” Badden warned quietly.

  Aelwen scowled at Badden, her hands on her hips looking, to all intents and purposes, ready for a fight.

  “That’s not true,” Cai said, finally finding his voice. He swallowed as Aelwen turned her icy stare to him. “I mean…” he floundered, kicking himself for his sudden nerves. Turning his attention away from Aelwen, he addressed the rest of the villagers, glad his voice became more confident as he continued. “I mean: I used to think that too but now… I think we can defeat Morgan and Mordred,” he declared, unsure where his newfound confidence had come from.

  “You think?” Aelwen demanded, pushing her way past a woman and a small girl of about four. “You think? How reassuring for us all.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her eyes boring into him as she looked him up and down; Cai shifted awkwardly under her intense scrutiny.

  Around him, Cai was dismayed to hear some of the villagers murmuring uneasily and knew he was fast losing any chance of their support.

  Badden approached Aelwen and put a hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. “Aelwen, these men are here to help us,” he reasoned. “The boy is Cai Pendragon, King Arthur’s son.”

  Upon hearing these words every set of eyes turned to him, gazing at him in wonder.

 

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