Villain's Assistant

by Carley Hibbert

  Benjamin barked a sarcastic laugh and pretended to drink.

  “Those knaves on horseback broke my cart,” the man said.

  “I was carrying cabbages to Shreb’s fortress. They trampled them into mush, saying no one wants cabbage!” The sour man threw back the glass that Benjamin gave him. “They were my best cabbages! I would have made a great profit across the border!”

  “Why didn’t you take them across the border? Shreb closer?”

  “No, sir, he is not, but those same rascals won’t let anyone cross the borders. That’s why I went to Shreb’s. A small profit is better than nothing, and that’s what I have now. If I’d have stayed home, I would at least have cabbages to eat!”

  The man looked so crestfallen, Benjamin slid his glass into the sour man’s large hand. The cabbage farmer slung that one back too and nodded in thanks. Benjamin nodded back and left the man to his sorrow.

  After a few casual questions, the innkeeper gave Benjamin a better idea where the trouble lay. Many of the regular peddlers who passed through on their travels had not been by in the last two days. The few that had gotten through without rough encounters were trappers and miners from the north.

  The innkeeper stopped rubbing his bar and just stared at his empty inn. He didn’t blink as they left.

  “That was grim,” Benjamin said as they walked from the Gray Gander.

  “Grim?” Denny said. “A few more minutes in there and we’d all be slitting our throats.”

  “I don’t understand,” Rebecca said, following a step behind. “How does this system work for the peasants who live here? How can they support Shreb or any other tyrant when they are at the mercy of their capricious moods?”

  “Not much different from a king, is it?” Benjamin whispered, signaling them to lower their voices.

  “Only a bad one. King Aldo does take his subjects’ interest into consideration. A king is responsible for the safety and well-being of the people, and in return, they support him and obey him. If they don’t receive protection or are able to feed and clothe themselves, why would they continue to support and obey their king?”

  “Bernie, let’s make sure we’re not being followed before we start talking politics. You never know what kind of trouble that could cause.”

  The sun was setting and shadows were growing long over the road. Benjamin led them down the road far enough to be out of sight of the Gray Gander and then into the tall grass. They wandered far enough away so that they wouldn’t be overheard or visible from the road.

  Benjamin motioned to stop. He circled around them, checking for eavesdroppers, and then returned and sat down. Denny lay down, not hiding his impatience with Benjamin.

  “You can’t imagine how many villains benefit from a hidden scoundrel in the right place,” Benjamin shrugged. “Eavesdropping is one of the most popular classes at the Villains’ Academy. There are people who make a living by sitting behind bushes and rocks all day.”

  Rebecca knelt down and tugged at her backpack. Denny bounced up to help her, but she held out her hand to stop him. “So what now? I’m guessing that the innkeeper had no better news than the cabbage farmer. We can’t go back, and we can’t wait for these marauders to give up either.”

  “Then I suggest we go forward.”

  Denny peered at Benjamin, raking his fingers through his hair. “That would put us in the path of the outlaws we’re trying to avoid.”

  “I meant forward as in north.”

  “North?” Both Rebecca and Denny’s heads jerked up.

  “Well, the castle is north of here, sort of.” Benjamin pulled out the map and smoothed it out between them. “We’re here. Our destination is there. We go north first and then east.”

  “What about all these mountains?” Rebecca pointed out in the failing light.

  “Yes, what about those?” Denny asked, chalking another mark against Benjamin in his head. “All the roads are being watched.”

  “And the spaces in between.” Rebecca pointed vaguely.

  “Only those that run between Shreb’s and the border. But not the ones that run north.” Benjamin smiled victoriously. No one returned that smile. “The innkeeper said the only steady business he was getting was from the miners and trappers in the mountains.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Denny exploded and then lowered his voice. “You can’t be serious. You want to take Re—um, Bernie through the Sunrise Mountains? Through an area that is haunted by Great Wolves?”

  “Only rumored to be haunted, but yes.”

  Denny sat up and blinked, speechless.

  Rebecca wrung her cap. “Have you ever been through the mountains?”

  “Well, it’s just land that goes up and then back down again.”

  “Oh, never mind about the bears, giant wolves, and the cold.”

  “The Great Wolves are just myths. Plus, it’s summer, not winter. It will be uncomfortable, but it won’t kill us,” Benjamin said, folding the map in half.

  “Not to mention it will take longer,” Denny grumbled.

  “Longer than being caught by Mouthrot’s men?” Benjamin said. “Listen, there is a pass through the Sunrise Mountains that is almost directly in line with Ulmer Castle. It will be a harder path but shorter than having to go all the way around, especially dodging marauders on horseback.”

  “We could go south.”

  “But how far south, Denny? You won’t go through a pass in the Sunrise Mountains, but you will go through Waldren’s Wood? The Cursed Forest of the Damned?”

  Rebecca pressed her lips in a firm line before issuing her opinion. “I have no desire to see Waldren’s Wood again anytime soon.” Rebecca closed her eyes against a vision in her mind. “But I know the pass you are talking about. No one takes it because it is also cursed.”

  “No, Tagrin got cocky and walked into a blizzard, midwinter. Sure, he was a legendary warrior who couldn’t get lost, blah, blah, blah.” Benjamin pointed a finger at Rebecca and Denny. “Let that be a lesson to us all. Arrogance will get you killed.”

  “Thank you for the history lesson, but now it will be little more than a goat trail.” Rebecca folded her arms across her chest. “How will we find it?”

  “There is a lower pass—” Denny reached for the map.

  “That’s why they put a road through it.” Benjamin was getting tired of this debate. It was obvious what needed to be done. “That road will be watched.”

  Denny growled. He got up and marched around them, his patience wearing thin. Denny had been agitated since leaving on this trip, untypically so. Maybe Denny resented Benjamin’s position of authority, since Rebecca never seemed to annoy him.

  Rebecca turned to Benjamin. “We’ll start in the morning.”

  TWENTY NINE

  Benjamin shivered awake. The sun was still not up, but he was too uncomfortable to sleep for another moment. He peeled himself off the cold ground, taking note of all the bruises on his back and hips from the iron-hard roots he’d slept on. He blew on his icy fingers as he listened to the sound of birds chirping to each other.

  Denny groaned as he sat up, gripping a crick in his neck. Rebecca rubbed her arms through the blanket that was wrapped tightly up to her chin, her nose and cheeks red from cold.

  “Do you think we could light a fire tonight?” Rebecca said through chattering teeth.

  Denny pulled an extra pair of socks out of his pack and handed them to Rebecca, who accepted them with a blush. She dug a small jar out of her pack and offered to rub liniment on his neck. Denny unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it down to expose his shoulder, closing his eyes at the touch of her cold fingers as she worked the pungent ointment into his stiff muscles. Benjamin rolled his eyes at this and struggled to his feet.

  “I hope so,” Denny said, blowing on his blue fingers. “With the wildlife, we’ll need one for sure.”

  “We’ll need to reach the thicker trees, so it’s not visible,” Benjamin said, feeling Denny’s glare more than seeing it. “I want
a warm night’s sleep as well, but we’re only a day up. We don’t want anyone going out of their way to check on a stray campfire light.”

  “I wore all my extra clothes last night, and it didn’t help much.” Rebecca pulled Denny’s shirt back up and slid her jar back into her pack. “We could make a lean-to with more trees as well. It would definitely keep us warmer. Thank goodness it’s summer.”

  “And in a few hours, we’ll be sweating again.” Denny helped Rebecca slide the gloves over her hands, a daffy grin on his face. “How can it be so hot during the day and still get that cold at night?”

  Benjamin bit into a hard roll and wandered up the path, pulling out his book to make an entry:

  Never flirt in front of others. You say and do stupid things. It’s annoying to others.

  By lunchtime, the hikers had shed their blankets and cloaks, and Rebecca had surrendered Denny’s extra socks. They drank heavily from the waterskins that now hung uncomfortably light at their waists. They hoped the map was correct about the location of the next stream, but by the time the sun dipped behind their backs, they still hadn’t found the elusive stream. They found a sheltered spot among some tall pines, with a wall of rock at their backs and started gathering firewood for warmth and protection against night predators. Rebecca weaved pine boughs into a shelter by the rock wall that still gave off heat from a day’s worth of sun. Benjamin yearned for sleep already.

  The boys stumbled through shady pines, picking up branches and sticks. By the time Benjamin’s arms were half full, he found himself peering at an enormous set of paw prints that dwarfed his hand. Denny leaned silently over his shoulder to see what Benjamin had found.

  “No point in mentioning it to Rebecca,” Denny said, checking over his shoulder as he continued to pick up more wood.

  Benjamin swallowed dryly but picked up his pace. Soon the ground became muddy, and he waved Denny over to the spring he’d found.

  The boys filled their waterskins and pounded a few taller branches into the ground as markers. They’d want to refill their waterskins in the morning.

  Rebecca was examining the finished shelter when they returned. Denny handed her a waterskin.

  “You found a stream!” Rebecca said, gulping down the water. “Did you see any animal tracks?”

  “Oh yes, plenty,” Benjamin said as he dumped his firewood.

  Denny glared at him.

  “Um, I think we’ll need a few more armfuls of wood.” Benjamin ducked his head and strode in a new direction.

  “Denny, you’re best at fires,” Rebecca said, pulling a pine needle from her hair. “I’ll help Benjamin gather firewood.”

  Denny nodded stiffly.

  “I hope we don’t have too many days of this left,” Rebecca said, wiping her face on the sleeve of her jacket. “I don’t want the Lieutenant to start assuming the worst.” Her shoulders sagged.

  Benjamin kicked at a shattered stump and picked up the broken pieces.

  “I know you don’t think much of him, but that’s because you don’t know him. He does really care for all of us, including you.” Rebecca straightened to rest her back. “I would give anything to have my parents back. Maybe you’re not ready to see it yet, but you’re lucky. Give the Lieutenant time.”

  A knot tightened in Benjamin’s chest, as he thought about the shifting realities of his past and present. He had no idea what the future held, and it scared him. After a long silence, they turned back. Rebecca wrapped her cloak around her bundle and threw it onto her back. Benjamin frowned, wishing he’d thought of that.

  A crackling ripped through the forest behind them. They froze and peered over their shoulders. Hair rose up on the back of Benjamin’s neck as rabbits and deer scrambled out of the trees past them. Ice filled Benjamin’s stomach as he caught sight of a bear-sized shadow, skulking toward them. Two eyes of moonlight peered out from the deepening gloom. Distant howls rang through the trees, and Benjamin spun around searching for more glowing eyes but found none. Then the hulking shadow was gone.

  Rebecca’s eyes bulged in her pale face. Denny erupted into the clearing holding a ready slingshot. Benjamin’s knees swayed under him, and he dropped his load.

  “Back to the fire!” Denny said, scanning the woods looking for signs of wolves.

  Benjamin scraped his kindling off the damp ground and stumbled downhill after Rebecca and Denny, panting. It was just a wolf, right? Gooseflesh rippled down his arms.

  Benjamin and Rebecca dropped their kindling on the pile and collapsed. Denny studied them as they stared at the fire for a moment before asking what happened.

  “I’m not sure,” Rebecca said, glancing at Benjamin and rubbing her arm. “We saw something big in the shadows, but—”

  He shrugged, unwilling to speculate. He pulled out his waterskin. He wasn’t sure if he had much of an appetite at the moment. His fingers shook as he fumbled with the stopper.

  Denny fetched Rebecca’s bag so that she could eat something and then gathered more stones for his slingshot. He demonstrated to both of them how to use it. A few loud cracks sounded as two rocks chipped the trunk of a tree not far off. He looked at Rebecca, who looked dazed, and then back to Benjamin for some kind of response.

  Benjamin strode over and took the slingshot. A few of his shots nearly hit the tree he aimed at. Satisfied, he handed the slingshot back to Denny. Whatever they’d seen in the shadows was much wider than a tree.

  THIRTY

  Rebecca listened to Benjamin crawl into the shelter as she stared into the fire. She tried to remember everything she’d heard about the Great Wolves. Not much. Their names were just used in oaths anymore. No one spoke of them. No one believed in them, not even the Lieutenant, and he believed a lot of things others did not. An image of the pale, glowing eyes that she’d seen with Benjamin flashed into her mind. She shivered and closed her eyes, gripping her blanket tighter.

  Denny stacked the wood onto the fire, his movements throwing shadows into the night. That was when the howls started. Each one ricocheted around them. She jumped and pressed her hand to her chest, her heart hammering to get out. Denny scanned the dark and gripped his slingshot with white knuckles. Finally he relaxed and pulled his extra socks out. He held them out so she could slip her hands inside, one at a time. He squeezed her fingers and then sat next to her, his leg resting against hers. The touch was comforting, and she made no effort to move away.

  Denny stared into the fire, listening to the haunting chorus around them. She reached for an absent braid. They only had crickets on the Thieves’ Plain.

  “I heard once that Aldo had a treaty with the Great Wolves,” Denny said, watching her from the corner of his eye as he buttoned his jacket. The frayed edges of his sleeves stood out against the firelight.

  “I think it was his grandfather or great-grandfather.” Again she reached for a braid that wasn’t there, shaking her head. She let her hand fall into the blanket across her lap. “Aldo said that was why the wolf was our family crest. They helped clear Ulmer’s path to the crown. That’s all I know.”

  She pulled her knees into her chin as she watched the flames. “It’s hard to believe the Great Wolves are just a story to strengthen a claim to the throne, when you’re surrounded by howling mountain wolves.”

  Denny’s gaze dropped when she looked up. He rubbed his hands on his pant legs and swallowed. A bubble of fireflies erupted in her chest, and her mouth was dry. She glanced at her waterskin but found her arms were unable to move.

  The wolves stopped for air just then, leaving only the chirps of crickets around them. The night felt naked without the howling.

  “Everything will be different when you get to the castle,” Denny said, turning his face to hers. The fire lit his blond waves, creating a halo around his head.

  She looked down at her hands. Of course things would be different, but she’d still need friends. She needed people she trusted. They were more precious than jewels or crowns in the royal world.

  She looked
up to tell him that, but then Denny’s lips were on hers like a butterfly’s wings. There and gone. Warmth spread through her face and into her chest. She pulled back, unable to breathe. His eyes reflected the fire back to her, full of the yearning that ached in her own heart. She felt herself leaning forward to meet his lips again. He smelled of tree sap and campfire, but there was something inviting underneath it. He brushed his thumb across her cheek and bent to take her kiss.

  She could feel his breath against her lips just as her fingers brushed across the heavy locket. The warmth in her chest clenched into ice-cold panic, as she pulled her heart back into her chest. There was no future in this. He was her friend, and she couldn’t do that to him. She was already married to whomever the king picked. She scooted back. He froze, his fingers marking the spot where her face had just been. Her arms and legs shook. He sat back, allowing the firelight to expose his pained expression. She closed her eyes as lists of potential suitors floated in her vision. Her chest ached as her heart clawed itself into a place of safety. She dropped Denny’s blanket and crawled into the shelter with Benjamin. He snored, deep in his dreams, as she cowered against the wall of the shelter and shivered.

  THIRTY ONE

  Just as the howls began to fade, Rebecca stumbled out into the twilight. She breathed in the sharp air and slapped her arms. A bird dared to call to its friends. She nodded at Benjamin, who clung white-knuckled to Denny’s slingshot. She dropped her blanket next to him and ventured down the path to pull a large branch into the fire. Benjamin surrendered his weapon and crawled into the shelter, already asleep.

  She dropped the splintered weapon on the pile of rocks and settled into the faintly warm spot that Benjamin had abandoned. She lifted her face to the sky, watching for the famous sunrises these mountains were named for. She could feel the warmth of the fire on her throat, but the fire couldn’t reach the icy burning around her heart. A tremor began in her arms and then spread to the rest of her body. She pulled her knees into her chest in a vain attempt to silence her body. It wasn’t until she felt the frosty tracks of tears on her cheeks that the trembling slowed. After several minutes or hours of tears falling unchecked onto her blanket, the shivers stopped, and the ache that pressed against her sternum slid to almost nothing as the last tear fell.