The Lords of Valdeon (7 page)

These despicable villains had managed to travel inland past the militia without being noticed. They could just as easily disappear again. Alice would be taken and sold. He couldn’t leave her to such a fate.

"You'll not be taking Alice anywhere. Let her go."

"I'd worry for yourself first, boy." The short raider regarded Seth with the keen eyes of a greedy merchant. "You must be someone important. The Dagger paid us thrice our price for the gutting. He doesn't typically bother himself with common sheep farmers."

Shaking his head, he shrugged and pulled his sword. Its blade was chipped and unpolished, probably a trophy from a recent burglary. The weapon looked sharp enough and its wielder well practiced in killing.

"I think I have the right to know why he wants me dead."

"They always ask why. You bore me now, boy." The short raider turned to his big companion. "Kill him quickly. We need to make the slave traders by morning to unload this tart."

He threw Alice to the ground, kicking her out of his path. Tree-trunk legs stomped toward Seth as the big man thrust powerful hands before him. Scarred and rough, those hands appeared to have killed many times.

"He may be big, Nan, but you’re bigger!"

Seth spurred the Isle Pony to a run. Snorting and pounding her hooves, Nan toppled the big man. Rocking his body from side to side, the raider tried to get up. Seth wouldn't have a chance if the villain were able to stand. His enemy was much too strong to fight outright and a surprise move would only work once. The raider had to be put down permanently. Cold acceptance stilled his fear. He brought Nan around again. Spurring her forward, he charged his pony. Nan's agitated hooves stomped over limp flesh. He prodded her away when the brute fell silent and still upon the grass.

Seth’s cloak pulled tight about his neck. The clasp held firm as he was yanked roughly from Nan’s retreating back. Escaping his grip, the lantern sailed across the night sky to finally break upon the ground. Oil drenched a clump of dried underbrush. Raging flames swept across the grass. The fire grew closer as the quick seconds passed. It wouldn't take long for the entire field to be consumed in flames.

A form materialized out of the smoke to pounce upon him while his attention had been drawn to the fire. The short raider held his naked blade above Seth's body, ready to strike. Seth kicked his leg up and connected with the man’s exposed side. The raider rolled away and onto his feet. He pounce forward again, whisking his blade at Seth’s face. More swift strikes targeted his chest. Hot fire blazed along his upper torso as the blade slashed tender skin.

"I’ll cut that grin off your face, boy!"

"Come ahead, Raider!"

Something primeval and ferocious had broken out of the cage in Seth’s heart. It radiated from his body like a savage animal. He felt powerful and wild. This new animal within him anticipated the raider's next move. It welcomed it with savage glee. He spun away as the raider's sword came for him. Missing his heart, the slice drew a bloody line along his right arm. Uncontrollable fury overpowered the last of Seth's fear.

"Marianna!"

Seth dove at the man and knocked him off balance. The raider's sword dropped into the grass. Seth kicked it into the hungry flames. His opponent growled a fierce battle cry and pounded his fist into Seth's stomach. His grip wrapped tightly upon Seth's arm. Then Erthe and sky exchanged places. Seth found himself flat on his back in the grass with the raider straddling his body. The stench of dung and sweat hung over them. He gagged at the smell. The raider had covered his tunic in Woolie droppings to avoid the militia dogs. Disgusting, but clever.

"You're no farmer." The raider twisted Seth's face toward the light. "D’Antoiné. No wonder the Dagger wants you dead."

He pushed away and hurried to his feet. Suspicious eyes remained fixed upon Seth as he back-stepped toward the unconscious raider. Shoving at his fallen friend with a rough boot, he cursed when the other man didn't move.

"Your eyes do not lie. I’ll remember your name, boy. The Dagger isn’t the only one who’ll pay to know where you are." He abandoned his friend and hurried away toward the coast.

Euphoria raced through Seth's blood like fire even after the raider disappeared into the darkness. He came to his feet, brushing absently at the bits of grass and filth. Something about Seth’s eyes had terrified the man. He knew well enough his eyes were unusual. Flecks of brilliant amber shone against the brown. This group of mad men had confused Seth with someone else, someone who shared similar looks. No. It didn't explain how the Dagger knew his name. Perhaps Seth looked like his absent father? Edmund seemed to have passionate enemies willing to go to great lengths to kill. But why go after a son this Edmund had never bothered to find?

Muffled cries behind him brought Seth's mind back to the field. The flames had grown into a fiery mouth, devouring dried grass and any other tinder it could find. Alice was in its path. A sudden gust of wind stoked the flames. Thick smoke filled the space between them. He couldn't see her anymore.

Running into the wall of smoke, Seth began to call for the girl. "Alice! Help me find you."

Urgent thrashing guided him through the blinding smoke until he tripped over her bound legs. Seth's fingers tugged at the rope, but the knots held firm. They had to get out of the smoke before both of them were overcome. He lifted her over his shoulder. Staggering forward, he prayed he was headed out of the smoke and not into the flames.

Fresh air struck them. His watering eyes made out the still form of the big raider. He kept well away from the man and lowered Alice to the ground. Disheveled hair fell over the rips in her dress. One of the sleeves had fallen in rolls at her bound wrists, its fabric smoldering as a stray spark from the grassfire found her arm. Seth ripped the burning sleeve from Alice’s arm and threw it toward the fire. He dropped down beside her and began to untie the bonds with trembling fingers. The ferocity Seth felt moments ago left him as he looked into her eyes. Shock swirled about in their depths. She stayed still, staring at him.

He pulled at the cloth in her mouth and waved a hand slowly before her face. "Are you hurt?"

The raider had clearly frightened Alice out of her senses. He turned from the disturbing intensity of her eyes. Trying desperately to focus on the tight rope at her ankles, he fumbled with the knot. It was a challenge keeping his fingers from accidently touching the ruined petticoat. Its tattered lace hung loose from under her dress. He did his best to avert his eyes until the knot finally worked free. Marianna's strict rules were clear about such things. A man did not see a woman's petticoat until his wedding night. Doing so would give the girl's father good reason to stick a musket in the impetuous young man's back.

He stood and pulled Alice up with him. Her body swayed a bit as the blood rushed to her limbs. Seth awkwardly gripped Alice’s shoulders to steady her. She burst into sobs and threw her arms around his neck. Great gulls. The girls of Haven Bay hadn't paid Seth much attention with Riley's older brothers strutting about the markets. He wasn't quite sure what to do with Alice. Her body was soft and warm. He should be enjoying this chance — possibly his last — to hold her in his arms. Her strong embrace, however, was irritating the cut upon his chest. He managed to keep from howling when Alice pressed tighter against him.

"You’re safe now."

"Fire! Go fetch the militia!" A man's voice boomed into the night.

Boots and angry shouts approached them to his right. A group of Marianna men had come to investigate. Faces, masked with alarm and anger, shown in the torchlight as they raced toward the burning grass. Alice’s father appeared to be leading the search. He raised a hand to stop the men. His eyes rested upon his daughter in Seth’s arms. They took in her dress in shreds and the wild state of her hair. His large musket came up. The barrel pointed at Seth's forehead.

"I can explain!"

Seth pushed Alice gently away. Honestly, what ill-favored moon had caused everyone to go mad?

"Seth McCloud? Is that you?" Mr. McKenzie slowly lowered the weapon. "What are you about, boy? I nearly put a hole in that foolish head of yours!"

"What are you waiting for? Bind him. The young hooligan has set the entire hill on fire."

The torches parted as the wide frame of Elder Newcastle pushed to the front. Sweat beaded on his balding head despite the cool evening. His large burgundy waistcoat expanded under the torchlight as he took great, heaving breaths.

"Wait a moment, Elder." Constable McTavish elbowed his way through the men to stand beside him. "Look there by young McCloud's feet."

The men followed his finger to the raider sprawled on the ground beside them. Mutters of astonishment circled around the mob. Several of them pounced upon the unconscious man, holding him down though it was unnecessary. Slowly their eyes turned to Seth.

"Did you best that raider, McCloud?" Constable McTavish asked, leaning over the raider. His bushy brown eyebrows arched to mimic the frowning mustache.

"Yes sir. Another man was with him. He ran off toward the Lookout."

"What an absurd lie," Elder Newcastle snorted. "How could the weakling nephew of the headmaster best a raider when the militia cannot?"

Seth let out an irritated breath. Of course the man would question anything he said. A feud between Fergus McCloud and Elder Newcastle had been raging for as long as Seth could remember. Oftentimes he found himself in the middle.

"I saw him!" Alice cried. "Seth saved me. He was wonderful."

She threw her arms around Seth’s neck and kissed him on the lips. Hot flashes moved up and down his spine. He’d never been kissed before and hadn’t imagined his first would be with the prettiest girl in Haven Bay.

"Alice!" Her father snapped. She released her death grip on Seth with a small grin and ran to her father.

"Thank you, Lad." Mr. McKenzie regarded Seth with a frown for a few moments and then began to pull his daughter across the field toward their farm.

"You there," Constable McTavish called to one of the farmers staring at Seth. "Take some men with you to the Lookout. Tell Sergeant Gunn to keep half his men at their posts. The other half are to go out into the fields and beat the grass until the other raider is found. We'll need every other free hand to fight this fire."

The constable led his volunteers toward the flames. Elder Newcastle followed, casting one last dark look at Seth. Letting out a pent-up growl of frustration, Seth leaned his hands upon his thighs. His cuts and bruises were beginning to ache. Fighting a grass fire with the others would be a feat his body might not endure.

A fist as large as a shovel struck Seth's face. He plummeted to the ground, landing on his backside. Danny McKenzie stood over him with his massive fists raised.

"Thank you for saving my sister, but that’s all you’ll do, McCloud." Danny stomped over to join Mike.

"My brother's right, McCloud. Alice can do better for herself than to marry a poor school mouse. Come on, Danny. We're going to take this brute for a midnight walk by the cliffs."

The twins nudged aside the group of men holding down their prisoner. Danny and Mike pulled the dazed raider to his feet, holding him in place when he swayed. Mike nodded at his twin when Danny smacked their prisoner across the face. Seth brushed off his trousers, glaring angrily at the departing men. He wiped at the fresh blood dripping from his lip. Well, a punch was what a person got for risking his life to save their sister.

"Keep her on the farm next time," Seth grumbled under his breath. He pulled at the front of his ruined shirt. No amount of washing would see it clean.

"Get the dirt off the wagon! We need to smother those flames and block the fire's path!" Constable McTavish shouted orders to the silhouettes around the flames.

Seth watched mutely from his seat upon the ground. Marianna had finite land mass. A grass fire could easily destroy every bit of life upon its surface. The Islanders were well practiced in fighting fires caused by the angry lightening storms pushing in from the sea. This particular fire had seemed larger than it was, and they quickly smothered it.

"I don’t envy the greeting you’ll get at home, young McCloud." The constable joined him at the edge of the smoldering grass. "I’ll have more questions for you." He helped Seth to his feet. "Why don’t I stop by to see you in the morning? I can have a word with your uncle about what happened here tonight. Off you go, then, and stay on the row. We don't want you mistaken for a raider and shot by one of your own."

"Ho, Constable!" The elder beckoned from the wagon. His large bulk took up most of the seat, leaving the driver to hold the reins at an odd angle.

Constable McTavish's mustache squirmed upon his frowning lip. He nodded to Seth and headed to join the other men in the back of the wagon. The comforting lights from their lanterns suddenly faded as the wagon dipped down into a dale. He was alone again in the darkness.

Spinning about, he looked for Nan. The pony was nowhere to be found. Alarm bells rang in the distance. Their ear-piercing clamor had most likely driven the already frightened pony back to her stall.

Rubbing his arms to keep warm, he headed across the lonely fields. Damp grass and other soft remains squished about his wet boots. He tried not to imagine what else he may be stepping in along the abandoned woolie fields. Lifting his eyes up to the heavens, he breathed in the familiar stillness of a Marianna autumn night.

Crystal engines roared over Seth’s head, knocking him to the ground. It was a small airship flying dangerously low. He brushed the wet grass off his filthy shirt, watching the bright glow of the crystal chamber flicker toward Haven Bay Airship Port. It was a good day’s airship ride from the coast of Andara to the nearest tower of the Grey Cliff Isles. Take another half day and that would see you to Marianna. An experienced crew would wait for daylight to avoid being dragged into the massive cliffs of the tiny island. The captain who flew that ship must either be mad or in a great hurry. Seth shook his head. Who would ever be in a hurry to visit Marianna? It was the most remote stretch of land upon which a man could stand.