The Wizard's Daughters: Twin Magic: Book 1 (13 page)

This time, the form did not dissipate. Instead, it settled into a near-human shape standing a few yards off.

“It’s done,” Ariel said.

“It worked?” Walther asked.

“Yes,” Astrid said. “That’s what it should look like. I can feel it. It’s watching the woods for us now.”

Oddly, Erich could feel it as well, feel its watchfulness. But, not sure what that meant—if anything—he said nothing.

As they ate, the dim figure drifted slowly around the perimeter of their camp. Erich could still feel how it watched the darkness for them, but it made him strangely uneasy.

Ariel and Astrid slept in the wagon, while Walther slept on the ground beside the fire. Magical watchdog or not, Erich insisted on setting a watch. Walther agreed to take the midwatch—“I will likely be up anyway to empty my bladder; it is the curse of old age,” he muttered—while the girls would take the morning watch.

As the others slept, Erich sat in the darkness listening to the forest sounds. There was little to see beyond an occasional owl or the bats that swooped in to eat the moths drawn to the lingering fire.

The dim blue form the girls had conjured kept up its watch, and Erich found that if he relaxed and opened his mind, he could sense things through it beyond the light of the fire. Being made of moonlight, it seemed it could sense anything the moonlight fell on. He could not quite
see
any of this, but he could still feel it somehow.

Nothing of import happened, and Erich woke Walther when the moon reached the middle of the night sky. He nodded at their silent sentry.

“Clever trick they managed there.”

“Yes. Can’t for the life of me see what it’s doing, but if it works, I’ll take it.”

Erich woke as the sun rose. The girls were stoking up the fire and preparing a breakfast of bacon and roasted potatoes. The glowing form was gone, not that he expected to see it.

“It lasted all night?” he asked.

“Until the moon set before dawn,” Astrid said. “But by then it was starting to get light anyway.”

He stood and cracked a few joints.

“Wouldn’t have minded one of those all these years. Could have saved me quite a bit of sleep.”

♦ ♦

The morning was equally uneventful, though Erich made them go slowly so he could keep a keen eye on the forest around them. Near noon, they crested a hill, and looking down, he could see a shallow valley with a narrow river running though the bottom.

“That’s the ford I was warned about,” Erich said. “If the ogres are going to come after us, it will likely be here.”

“What do you suggest we do if it happens?” Walther asked.

“Watch ahead and behind you. I don’t know which direction they may come from, but be prepared to head the other way in a hurry. Keep going forward if you can, but be ready to turn around if you have to. I’ll try to ride between the wagon and the ogres to block them and give you a chance to put some distance between us. Get far enough ahead and they won’t be able to chase you down.”

“What about us?” Astrid asked.

“Just hold on tightly. With luck, this will be over before it starts.”

Moving carefully, Erich led them down the hill toward the river. He thought he could see a few spots where there might have been combat—a heap of wood that could have been a smashed wagon and a moldering skeleton of
something
—but did not dare stop long enough to check them out.

They reached the river in about an hour. The wooden bridge, as he had been told, appeared to have collapsed from rot and lack of upkeep, but tracks from the road led along the river about twenty yards down to a spot that was being used as a ford. Erich rode up and back quickly, watching for anything, but the forest around them was empty.

“Let’s go. Quickly.”

Walther steered the wagon off the road and down to the ford. With Erich riding beside them, they entered the river. The water came up to the edge of the wagon, but was not swift enough to move it. Erich charged ahead and up to the far bank, spinning around to see if anything was coming. But he saw nothing.

Splashing and rocking, the wagon lumbered through the river for long moments before the horses pulled it out up onto the bank. Walther turned them back to the road, with Erich leading the way.

Erich paused to look back down the road, then up ahead of them. The woods were silent.

“Perhaps we are in luck. The ogres may be sleeping off some drink or bothering someone else.”

They left the river behind and began climbing out of the valley.

♦ ♦

The attack, when it came, was a complete surprise.

They were rounding a bend on the far side of the hill, where the road narrowed. The hill fell off to the left; on the right, someone had built a stone wall to hold back the hillside above them. The trees here had gone largely yellow and scarlet, and with the afternoon sun streaming in, the scene was so pretty that Erich let down his guard, feeling as if the danger had finally passed.

At the last possible moment, he noticed something large and heavy flying at him through the air. He ducked just enough to keep the club from hitting his head but not enough to stop it from knocking him from his horse. He fell roughly but immediately scrambled to his feet.

Behind them, he saw an ogre charging out of the forest with a huge club in its hands.

“Go!” he shouted at Walther. “Down the road like we planned!”

Walther whipped the horses, and they leapt forward. Erich spun around looking for the second ogre, seeing it right where he expected—blocking the way ahead. Reaching behind his neck, he drew two of his throwing knives, firing them at the ogre with both hands. The ogre ducked back, avoiding one, but the other cut a deep slash across its face. The beast roared in pain, stumbling backward far enough to open a way for the wagon. Walther charged past.

Yet no sooner had Erich spun around to check on the first ogre—which was bearing down on him—he heard a confused clattering of hooves and skidding of wagon wheels.

“Erich!” Walther shouted. “The road is blocked! We cannot get past!”

But Erich was stuck between the two ogres, which for now ignored the wagon, recognizing him as the main threat. Both of them wore roughly stitched hides that had been hammered with iron studs and plates on their chest and shoulders. Both carried large wooden clubs, while one—the one he had hit with his knife—also carried a heavy sword.

Erich drew his longsword and lunged at the first ogre, trying to draw them away from the others.

The ogre swung its club in a broad arc, but Erich ducked under it and landed a blow across the beast’s armored thigh—whereupon the former practice sword he had bought dearly from Ilian, the town master at arms, promptly snapped in two.

“Bloody hell!” he screamed. He threw the useless hilt away and reached for his rapier—just in time to realize it was still on his horse, which had bolted back down the road.

Aghast at the realization that he was facing two angry ogres armed only with a dagger and some throwing knives, Erich could do nothing but curse and try to lure the ogres further away from Walther and the girls.

But the ogres—as the guard at the last town had warned him—were wise enough to assess the situation as well. The one with the face wound turned away from Erich and headed for the wagon as the other closed in with its club. He had to stop it, and there was only one way.

Falling backwards away from the swinging club, Erich drew the pair of knives from his forearms. He fired one, then the other at the second ogre’s knees. One missed, but the other flew true, burying itself in the ogre’s leg. Bellowing in pain, it stumbled and fell to the road.

But the first ogre was too close for throwing knives. Erich had only his dagger, which meant he had to get inside the ogre’s swing. He said a silent prayer of thanks for all the times Lothar had made him fight like this as a child, for he at least knew what to do, whether or not he would be able survive this.

Three times he ducked the ogre’s club but was unable to get in a riposte. But the fourth time, the ogre swung too far, and Erich slipped in under its arm and drove his dagger up under its armor, into the beast’s gut. It sank in up to the hilt, and Erich jerked against it with all his might, cutting open the ogre’s stomach. Gurgling and gasping, the beast dropped its club and fell to the ground.

Back up the road, the other ogre had regained its feet and was still lumbering toward the wagon. Erich charged forward, but just as he closed with it, the beast’s head was sudden wreathed in flames. Beyond it, leaning out of the back of the wagon, Ariel and Astrid were trying to hold it off.

The ogre roared in pain and confusion, staggering backward and dropping its club. But then the flames dissipated.

“We can’t maintain the fire for long,” Astrid cried. “Kill it!”

He ran at the thing with his dagger, but as the fire died, the ogre saw him coming and drew its sword.

Erich skidded to a stop. A club was one thing, but the ogre was wielding a blade that would have served as a heavy two-handed sword for a man. For the ogre, though, it was a simple longsword.

The blade came at Erich in an arc that would have taken his head off had he come even a step closer. He stumbled backward, and here he saw his only advantage. The beast’s leg wound greatly slowed it down so that it could not close with him. He drew two more throwing knives, but twice wounded, the ogre was not about to let Erich do it a third time. As soon as it saw the knives, injured knee or not, it charged at him with a roar.

Erich had no time to prepare his knives for a throw and could do nothing but duck under the swinging blade. At the last second, he stuck out a foot and tripped the ogre as it went past. As the ogre was far larger than he, the maneuver would not have worked save for the previous knife wound. The beast lost its balance, and crashed to the ground.

Erich spun around, a knife in each hand, and leapt onto the ogre’s back before it could rise. He drove a blade into each side of its head below the ears. The ogre jerked twice, then was still.

He sat back, trying to catch his breath. He looked down the road to see if the other ogre was truly dead. It had not moved.

At that moment, he felt two bodies crash into him from behind as a cloud of silver-gold hair swirled around them.

“Are you hurt?” “Did it hit you?” Both of them were hugging him.

Erich let himself enjoy the girls’ proximity for a few moments before disentangling himself and getting to his feet.

“I am fine. I think.”

Walther arrived next to them.

“That was as impressive a display of arms as I have ever seen. You took down two ogres with nothing but a collection of knives.”

Erich accepted the compliment. “Not something I wish to repeat.”

Ariel and Astrid picked at him for a few moments, looking for injuries. It was at that moment that his shoulder began to throb where the first ogre had it him with the throwing club. He sat down again, groaning.

“On second thought, give me a moment.”

20.

His shoulder did not appear to be seriously injured, and Erich walked around for a few minutes stretching it out and collecting his throwing knives. Up ahead, he could see now what had happened. The ogres had laid a fallen tree across the road, wedging it between several rocks. They should be able to get it out, but it would take some time. Certainly not something they could have managed in the midst of the fight. And the ogres had cleverly chosen a spot where the road was too narrow to turn the wagon around.

Not wanting to leave the dead ogres in the middle of the road, he retrieved his horse and used it to drag one, then the other to the edge. Before rolling them down the hill, he used his dagger to cut off their ears. With a shove, both went crashing down into the underbrush.

Walther approached, eyeing the bloody mess in his hand.

“The guard I spoke to mentioned a bounty,” Erich said. “Could be we can collect it now.”

The artificer nodded. “We’re running out of daylight.”

“I can see that. But I have an idea, if you’re interested.”

“Go on.”

“These ogres have been raiding travelers for months. Yet they were carrying nothing beyond their weapons. That suggests to me they may have a lair nearby. It might benefit us to find it. We do not have time to clear the road and make camp before nightfall anyway.”

“Do you think you can locate it?”

Erich walked back up the road to where he had seen the first ogre emerge. The ground here was still soft and muddy from the rains a few days earlier, and the ogres’ tracks were clear. As he followed them into the woods, he suddenly realized there was an old, disused trail between the trees here. It was just wide enough for the wagon. The ogres had clearly come from this direction.

He returned to the road and helped Walther back the wagon up. He tethered his horse to the rear of it, and followed the tracks for about ten minutes as Walther and his daughters followed. The trail climbed the hill gently, and around another bend, the trees suddenly opened up, giving them a view of the area they had been traveling through. Back the way they had come, he could see the road and the ford at the river. In the other direction, the road to Köln was also clear.

“Look at this.”

Walther looked one way, then the other.

“You think they saw us coming?”

“I’m certain of it. That ambush was laid for us specifically. That tree would have done little to slow men on horseback, or on foot, but it would stop a wagon cold. This is why not everyone coming through here has been attacked, and why the bounty hunters seeking them haven’t found them. They can sit up here and pick and choose their targets. Anything too tough they leave alone.”

The trail wound around the hill and back into the tree for another hundred yards or so before opening into a small clearing. Here the tracks led off the trail, which continued into the woods. But to one side of the clearing, there was a large heap of dead trees. He would have ignored it absent the tracks, for it looked little different from a typical forest deadfall; indeed, as he approached it appeared to have been built around one.