Marysvale (50 page)

Smoke didn’t need to be told to run, as
by the time I turned my attention back to the women, he was already
catching up with them.

They had slowed down, probably to come
to my aid; but when they saw me charge toward them, they again took
up the flight.

We galloped through the last of the
trees and into a large clearing. The town lay a half mile away. It
was much, much smaller than Marysvale. From the outside, it looked
like a large fort. Wooden timbers encircled it. A few lookouts
stood inside watchtowers.

Out of the trees swarmed dozens of
Brean. They flanked us on both sides and now outran our tired
horses.

One of the ugly beasts paced Jane for a
moment, sizing her up; its long, shaggy arms swinging madly. It
issued an angry snarl, and cut over to begin its attack.

Sarah drew her musket, with arms
trembling from fatigue and pain.

She fired.

Her shot was off and the gun fell from
her weak hands.

The beast flinched at the sound,
dropped, and ran hunched, low to the ground.

I unfastened the crossbow, aimed, and
pulled the trigger.

The arrow twirled, soaring through the
air, and plunged into the monster’s shoulder.

It growled furiously, tore it out, and
tossed it away without breaking stride.

Other monsters closed in around us,
each of them choosing their prey. Some twitched their long claws in
anticipation. A few made strange barking sounds of
excitement.

Two angled in from opposite sides of
Sarah, another chose Hannah.

Twenty or thirty more Brean poured out
of the forest.

With nothing left to defend ourselves,
I watched in horror as Jane’s Brean surged forward, preparing for
its final strike.

The wait wouldn’t be long before the
rest of us joined her fate.

The monster drew within feet, timed its
leap, and… with a yelp of pain, it fell, tumbled, and rolled
through the dirt.

The thundering boom of a rifle rumbled
and rolled across the countryside.

We galloped past the writhing
Brean.

A moment later, another fell to a
similar fate, and then another. The air was soon filled with the
continuous explosion of rifle fire.

Any monster that drew near us, fell.
Sometimes it took two, even three shots to bring them down; but
they still fell.

Tears of relief streamed down my face
as I realized, for the first time since I could remember, that
townspeople were shooting to protect me, instead of kill me. I
suppose to be accurate, they were protecting us; nonetheless, I
claimed it.

We charged on to the town. Along the
top of the wooden wall, men and women busily loaded and fired
rifles and muskets, even a few of the older children were helping
with the loading.

Encircling the entire town ran a deep
canal lined with rocks. A small river had been diverted, filling it
with water and creating an effective barrier.

At first, I couldn’t see any way across
it, or any type of gate. Then, quickly, an entire section of the
timbers lowered, bridging the waterway.

The monsters, still driven with insane
persistence, continued their onslaught, only to be repelled by the
villagers.

We galloped across the
bridge.

Some of the Brean tried crossing, but
were met with a wall of shot, and toppled off the bridge into the
slow-moving water below.

As soon as we crossed, the bridge
raised and resumed its duty as a fortification.

The rifle fire died down, and I
surmised the Brean were retreating.

With a deep sense of gratitude, I said
a silent prayer, thanking God for our miracle. Then I slid wearily
off Smoke, and went to help Hannah. Jane followed suit and helped
Sarah off her horse. As soon as she touched ground, Sarah fell into
Jane’s arms, and they both instantly began to sob. Cradled in my
arms, I held a weeping Hannah.

The townspeople began to gather around;
and an old man, with silver hair, bounded toward us. He was
remarkably energetic, and wore a huge, welcoming grin. We all
turned to face him as he gave us a little bow and said, in a thick
Scottish accent, “Welcome to Alyth.”

A
LMOST
five days had passed since our arrival in the
cheery little town of Alyth. It was evening as I walked the dirt
streets, and passed the wooden homes where children played on
porches. The delicious smells of supper wafted through the air.
Nearing the stables, a familiar whinny greeted me. I smiled, but
kept going.
Not tonight, my friend
. I was on a mission—one
I felt somewhat nervous about, but determined to fulfill. It was
something I’d put off far too long.

I continued along the timbered wall to
a set of wooden stairs, which I ascended quickly. At the top, I
followed the suspended walkway until I reached one of the
watchtowers.

Pulling the door open, I stepped
inside. The small room resembled the towers in Marysvale. It
consisted of a roof and four walls, with one of them opening to the
forest beyond. In the middle of the room sat a small, iron stove
which radiated heat. Surrounding the stove were four chairs; three
of them were occupied by Sarah, Hannah, and Jane.

“
You’re late,” accused
Hannah.

They were drinking tea and watching the
sun set across the treetops. It had become our new
ritual.

Upon arriving in Alyth, Sarah insisted
on taking her turn at watch. They wanted her to rest, and she did;
but she also claimed she could sit there as well as
anywhere.

Hannah, being Hannah, grew bored of
rest and felt like she was missing out on something; so she also
joined Sarah. She was positive that we talked about her behind her
back, and was very concerned that she wasn’t there to defend
herself.

“
I’m not late,” I
retorted.

“
It feels like you’re
late.”

“
How can I be late when it
isn’t even my watch?”

“
Well, I was here early,”
she said with pride.

I sighed, “You can’t be here early;
it’s not your watch either.”

She gave a little wave of her hand as
if dismissing what I’d just said. “Still, you’re usually here
before now.”

“
I was busy,” I
said.

She eyed me suspiciously. “Doing
what?”

“
You’re awfully nosy today.
Besides, it’s nothing that concerns you.”

She studied me, then exclaimed, “Look
at you; you’re all cleaned up. What for?”

“
Do I need a
reason?”

“
No, but you’re in clean
clothes, too.”

Her eyes narrowed, suddenly more
distrustful.

Sarah was looking at me, with a grin
that she wasn’t hiding very well behind her cup; and Jane was
looking at me too, with no expression at all. Suddenly, I felt very
uncomfortable. Refusing to meet their eyes, I sat down and sipped
my tea.

After a moment of awkward silence,
Sarah put her cup down and stood up.

“
Come along, Hannah,” she
said, holding out her hand. “You can help me down the
stairs.”

Hesitantly, Hannah took it and stood
up. “But your watch isn’t up for a quarter hour,” she
protested.

“
I think John and Jane can
finish up for us tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “But they’ll be
alone!”

“
Yes,” agreed Sarah. “They
will.” And with a firm arm around Hannah, she led her to the
door.

Hannah whipped her head around and
glared at me with the most disapproving look she could
muster.

Before the door closed, and careful
that the other two couldn’t see me, I returned her look with the
smuggest “I won” expression that I could manage.

Her jaw dropped and she was about to
contend, but the door closed.

Jane stood up to take in the last of
the sunset; and I joined her. It was beautiful. Silhouetted against
a deep blue sky, the fading sun ignited the treetops in a blaze of
color.

“
At least there’s no lasting
damage to her mental state,” I said, referring to
Hannah.

Jane smiled.

She started to say something; but
unable to resist any longer, and before I lost my nerve, I snatched
her up in my arms and kissed her lips.

She went stiff.

I released her, mortified that I had
been too presumptuous.

I stammered, “I’m sorry… I thought you
felt the same way.”

She looked at me slyly. A playful grin
spread across her face, and she said, “Took you long
enough.”

Bewildered, I sputtered, “But… I
thought…It’s just that…”

“
Shhh,” she whispered,
pressing a finger to my lips.

Then, taking my face in her hands, she
gently pulled me close and kissed me.

To all those who made this possible
with your valuable input; and to you, the reader, for accompanying
me on this journey—thank you.

Please join us in the Fall of 2011
for the second installment of the Marysvale series.

www.jaredsouthwick.com

For B’lue—I love
you.