Leena remembered sharing sleeping quarters with scores of children in heaping piles of fresh hay. The loft of the livery was their temporary home and imaginary kingdom. For three nights, they played, gossiped and told stories until the wee hours.
Now, Stocksbury was a larger version of Leena’s village; roofless scorched walls, a few skinny dogs and silence.
She found less damage as she penetrated deeper into town as though, once a proper level of fear had been created, the need for destruction decreased. From the silence she was certain no living people remained.
She found her way to the inn.
A large cauldron in the common room fireplace held an icy red block of vegetable soup. She lit the fire. In the kitchen she found frozen loaves on a sideboard.
While the soup heated, she explored the rest of the inn. Her family had not had enough money to stay here. In the evenings, her Da would come to have a pint and catch up on current events. To Leena, the inn had been a place of mystery and wonder.
Several rooms contained made beds and fireplaces laid in expectation of customer arrivals. In one room, she found a large metal cauldron filled with ice. It had pipes leading to a long wooden tub. It was a bath. She heard about these, but had never actually seen one. At home they bathed in a round wooden tub warmed by pots full of water heated in the fireplace.
She lit the fire beneath the cauldron. While the ice melted and the water began heating, she prowled the rooms looking through abandoned luggage to find clean, sturdy traveling clothes that would fit. When the water was warm, she opened the tap, filled the tub, and removed her worn and dirty garments.
She had a bad moment when she tried to set the Garlan branch on a chair next to the tub. It refused to leave her hand. No amount of shaking or attempts to throw it could separate it from her. As a last resort, she cleared her mind and willed it to float to the chair. It obeyed, although she felt its reluctance to leave her. It remained on the chair at her command, but its presence in her mind constantly pulled at her to take it back.
Finally, feeling like a princess, she immersed herself in the warm luxury of the bath.
By the time she returned to the common room, the soup was bubbling merrily. She ladled a heaping bowl and between bites, used it to thaw and soften the bread. She could not remember when she had last eaten a meal that tasted so good.
Finally, with full stomach, she sat before the hearth and relaxed. The fire warmed her and she soon found herself nodding.
With an effort, she rose and trudged up the stairway. She selected a bedroom with a made bed, lit the fire, and snuggled comfortably under the thick down comforter. With firelight shadows dancing on walls and ceiling, she drifted into sleep.
Warm sunlight on her face awakened her. Dimly, she heard the calls of waking birds through the closed windows. She opened her eyes to a fairyland of dazzling rainbows created by sunshine through cut glass windows.
For a few minutes, she lay comfortable beneath the comforter, reluctant to leave its luxury. It would be so easy to stay here, warm and snug, and let the day drift sleepily away.
However, she had things to do. She had to locate her family and find a way to rescue them. Slowly, feeling the weight of responsibility, she eased out of bed.
The morning sun was well above the horizon by the time she finished a breakfast of hot soup and bread. Full and rested, she shouldered her laden shawl and again started along the North Road. She knew there were probably bodies in the town and they should be properly laid to rest. However, there were many towns ahead and she could not tend them all. They would have to stay until someone else could take care of them.
CHAPTER 10
Leena had never been north of Stocksbury. The land was new to her. So far, it looked the same as yesterday, snow covered forest with only the white powdered depression of a hidden road to show humans had been here. She had never seen a map nor would she know how to read one. The boy, Arvin, said the captives were sent north from Wedgelin, his hometown. These were the directions she had. They would have to be enough.
She hoped Arvin was unharmed. Had he returned to Wedgelin? Was he nearby watching her? She did not think so. Surely she would have sensed him. How could he survive in this cold? Perhaps she should have chased him, but she could not hold him prisoner. She put the thoughts aside. She could do nothing about him now.
Her mind drifted to the Garlan branch as she walked. She drew it from her tunic and, for the first time, examined it. The branch was as long as her forearm and slightly crooked with nothing to mark it as unusual. It looked like any branch found in the forest. Could it be used in the same way an ordinary wand could?
Leena used her hedge witch wand to dispel the warming spell around her. The shock of cold was harsh and bitter, penetrating easily through her clothes. She stowed her old wand in her tunic and recalled the protective spell she used after defeating the raven. She was instantly warm and sensed, rather than saw, she was invisible and protected by a repelling force.
She was lifting the branch to withdraw the spell when she heard noises on the road ahead. In the distance, beyond the next rise, she heard the creaks and groans of a wagon. Shortly, she heard male voices. People were approaching. Was it the Great Wizard’s army returning to capture her? Had Arvin run to them and told of her existence?
Instinctively, Leena looked for a place to hide. The trees were far away and getting there would leave prints in the snow. Quickly, she used a wind spell to blow snow over her tracks on the road to make them look old.
She had to trust the protective spell.
A floppy, cloth peasant cap, followed by the head that wore it, rose above the rise. Another head crowned the hill, this one wearing a battered helmet. In minutes, she counted fourteen men and a wagon cresting the rise. She watched their approach, alert for any sign they could see her.
They were a dangerous looking group, dressed in a variety of ill-matched clothing and carrying all sorts of weapons. All eyes constantly scanned the area for danger. Several men looked in her direction, but none raised an alarm.
The spell was working. She hoped that, like the Garlan tree, the men would be shifted past her without realizing they had been manipulated.
The low rumble of their conversation continued. All too quickly, they were close enough she could understand their words.
"How’s our little piggy doin’ Ned? I ain’t heard nothing from him in a while." The man in the felt peasant hat called back to someone in the group. His deep voice carried and echoed through the quiet forest.
A heavyset ruffian at the rear of the group, clad in an ill-fitting helmet and mismatched bits of armor, lightly jabbed his spear at something hidden from Leena behind the wagon. A high-pitched squeal of pain and desperation sounded through the woods evoking laughter from the group.
"Did ya hear his squeal of pleasure? He seems happy we found him, Bert." Another round of laughter rose and rolled over the countryside.
As the group drew abreast of Leena, Arvin appeared wearing nothing but a pair of boots. A ragged length of rope bound his hands to the rear of the over-laden wagon. A trail of tears sparkled in the sunlight on each cheek and a small track of blood oozed from a fresh wound on his left buttock. His teeth chattered like castanets in the crisp winter air.
"Don’t damage the goods too much Ned, we need him in shape to warm us all tonight."
Again the laughter.
The man called Bert stopped where he could see the boy as the wagon approached. When Arvin drew even with him, he held up a hand and the group stopped.
"He looks a bit cold don’t he lads?" Bert called out, "Perhaps we should warm him up some and maybe give him a preview of what’s in store later. What d’ya say?"
The group mumbled agreement. Leena saw cold glee reflected in every face. These men enjoyed inflicting pain.
"Anton. Lank. If you’d be so kind as to untie our little piggy and hold his arms wide."
Two men stepped from the group and started wo
rking on the rope binding Arvin to the wagon. Bert loosened and removed a wide leather belt from around his waist. He waved it back and forth in front of the boy as he talked.
"It’s time you started learnin’ to be a good little piggy. The first lesson is, when I tell you to squeal you squeal. But, when I don’t tell you to squeal, you must be a quiet little piggy. Do you understand me?"
Arvin’s eyes were round with fear. White showed on all sides as he stared at the swinging belt. He nodded his head in small rapid jerks.
"You know, I really wish I could believe you but sometimes little piggies lie. Ain’t that right men?" A gleeful mumble of assent rumbled through the group. "So we just got to make sure. Stretch him if you would, please."
The men released the rope. Each grasped a wrist and pulled Arvin’s arms straight out to his sides. Leena saw pain contort the boy's face.
Looks of anticipation and sensual joy covered every face in the group. They were going to beat him for no reason other than to give them pleasure. How could there be men like this? What could she do to stop them?
"Now it’s time to be a quiet little piggy."
So quickly she had no time to react, the belt flashed up and descended on the pale white back with a smack that resounded through the barren woods.
A howl of agony erupted from the boy. His head flew back, the cords in his neck stood out like bowstrings. His body twisted in a dance of agony as his shoulders tugged in a futile attempt to free his arms. His feet ran rapidly in place, his boots sliding over snow covered road ice.
"I guess you’re a slow learner. I told you it’s time to be quiet." The belt rose again.
Without thinking, Leena’s arm raised a fraction of a second behind Bert’s as she cast an immobilization spell.
With her old wand, the spell could affect only one person and last only an hour. The Garlan branch was much more powerful. She was startled to see the entire group frozen. However, with the Garlan branch she had no idea how long it would last. She had to be careful with this wand. She could do a great deal of damage if she did not learn to use it properly soon.
The men and the boy were as still as statues. The belt dangled back and forth, like a mesmerist’s charm, in Bert’s upraised hand. Arvin was caught in a twisted pose, one shoulder bulged forward, the other wrenched back, and his hips bent in the opposite direction. His face was a wide-mouthed mask of fear and pain. A large, red welt was swelling from his right shoulder to the left side of his waist.
She used a healing spell to heal the boy’s injuries then released the immobilization spell on him.
Arvin’s howl ended as though chopped with an ax. He looked around, confused. Leena realized she still had the Garlan tree’s cloaking spell on. She stepped behind the boy and removed the spell. Something warned her to keep the spell hidden from him. She replaced the Garlan branch in her tunic and stepped to where he could see her.
"Let me help free you." She pried the clasping fingers from around the boy’s wrists.
"Where were you?" The boy screamed in her face as she worked to free the ruffians’ grips. "Why did you let them get me? Do you know what they were going to do to me?"
The boy was understandably upset.
"I just got here. I had no way of knowing you were going to be captured."
"Yeah, sure. I bet you just stood there and watched while they beat me."
The accusation hurt because there was a grain of truth in it. She had hesitated because she could not believe anyone would be so cruel, but the boy would never understand that. Leena felt ashamed.
Arvin turned his back and began digging through the wagon. He pulled out the trousers, jerkin, and jacket she had seen him wearing earlier.
He sniffled as he dressed, occasionally, taking a deep, hiccupping breath. He rarely looked at her, but when he did there was accusation in his eyes that increased her feeling of shame.
"You might look in the wagon and see if there’s anything we could use."
The tone of his voice, and the glare in his eyes, told her she was stupid for not doing this already. She would have searched the wagon before they left here, but it would do no good to point it out to him now. His pride was hurt. In his mind he was a boy and she was only a girl. She had seen him naked and screaming. It would take time to get over that. She knew anger was his way of trying to reestablish his masculinity.
Leena started exploring the wagon. The band had obviously been looting deserted villages. She saw silver platters and candelabras, gold rings and jewels, food and fine clothing. She also found several sturdy leather packs that would serve far better than her shawl. Any would easily hold all her foodstuffs with room left for spare clothing.
In addition, the wagon contained dozens of weapons including swords, bows, quivers of arrows, crossbows and darts, knives, spears, clubs, and axes. She had never actually held a real weapon, but it seemed a good idea to arm themselves.
She selected a short sword, not too heavy and short enough to maneuver easily.
"Arvin, do you know how to use a sword?"
She stood and looked for him.
"Arvin, no!"
The boy stood with a raised knife in front of Bert. His head snapped around at her call. He looked at her with a blank expression then turned and slashed the knife deeply across the unmoving ruffian’s exposed throat. The boy watched the vandal’s blood gush as he slowly sank to the ground. The rest of the gang already lay in spreading pools of blood.
"What have you done?"
"If we let them live, they would only follow and kill us. You can’t leave scum like this behind you. Now we won’t have to worry about them."
"No, Arvin. There had to be another way."
"What? Leave them here to freeze to death under your spell? What would you do with them, M’lady? Turn them over to the next sheriff we see? When and where would that be and how would we get them there?"
He turned from her in disgust and started to remove the coin pouches from the dead men. As she sat on the heap of goods in the wagon, dumbfounded, he combined the contents into two pouches. He finished and returned to the wagon holding one out to her.
"We can use this to get food and lodging if we come to a town with people."
Quietly confused, she accepted the pouch. She wished she could refute his logic. He seemed so much older than he looked. What had he seen and been through to mature him so much?
The boy turned and wandered through the bodies, inspecting them. He stooped next to one and deftly removed a belt and scabbard containing a short sword with a beautifully jeweled hilt. He stared at her with a challenging expression as he strapped it around his waist.
"To answer your question, M’lady..."
The boy drew the sword and performed an intricate and deadly dance. The blade flashed and glittered in the morning sun. He was graceful, sure and competent. What kind of place had Wedgelin been where a boy so young could learn such skill with a weapon?
Using her hedge witch wand, she cast a protection spell around herself and made a silent vow to maintain it while they were together. His attitude made her nervous. His anger and hate were too unpredictable.
"Now M’lady, if you’re done with your rest, perhaps we should be moving along."
With an effort, Leena forced her mind away from disturbing thoughts.
"Okay, let me get some things together we might need."
Leena unrolled her shawl and stowed the foodstuffs in two of the leather packs. Miraculously, she found several unbroken candles in the candelabras. She packed these also. There seemed little else of use. The brigands looted only items that could be easily sold.
Leena belted on the short sword she had chosen. She shouldered one of the packs, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, leaped from the wagon and held the other pack out to the boy. She noticed the string of a bow and the strap of a quiver of arrows now crossed his chest. Having seen his display with the sword, she suspected he was also quite familiar with these. She said nothing.
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A sneer crossed his face as he noticed the sword at her waist. Still silent, he shouldered his pack and started north.
"Are you sure you won’t need any armor?"
The boy stopped and turned to look at her. Grudgingly, as though hating to admit she might be right, he returned to the dead men. From one of the bodies he removed a pair of heavy leather gloves studded with short silver spikes at the knuckles. He pulled them on, flexed his fingers, and took a few solid swings at the air around him. Smiling he seemed satisfied.
He started to walk away, stopped, smiled his disturbing smile and returned to Bert. He reached down and removed the peasant cap from the nearly severed head. He pulled the cap over his head as though donning a crown of victory.
"Now I’m ready." He started away along the road.
Leena watched him for a few seconds, bothered by his callous disregard for the slain men. Hopefully, once over his anger and embarrassment he will be...what? Less hard? More human? More boylike? She was not certain what she wanted, but she hoped he would not remain so, old.
She shook the thought away and hurried after the boy.
CHAPTER 11
Leena woke the next morning to the smell of roasting fowl. It took several seconds to orient her perceptions. They traveled far after the encounter with the ruffians yesterday, not even stopping to eat. Both rode silent, lost in thought. By unspoken agreement, they put as much distance as possible between them and the dead men. Several times, she tried to open a conversation. The boy remained silent and distant.
Her eyes scanned the small bedroom of the cottage they found last night. They had arrived after dark, too tired to continue. Thankfully, the house had two bedrooms.
She desperately needed rest. The cost of maintaining a protection spell had sapped her strength to a dangerous level.
She rose and wandered into the central room where a fire crackled gaily in the fireplace. A plump bird roasted on a spit.