The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain) (40 page)

BOOK: The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain)
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“Well, I got stabbed!”

 

“Go on—let me see!” By firelight Gorm examined the man’s wounds. “These are flea-bites, you big baby! You didn’t get a proper stabbing with a knife.”

 

“I didn’t see who did it, Gorm.”

 

“Because you were asleep, burn you for a lazy crock!”

 

“But who could have come into the camp and taken all our stuff?” another man wondered. “Why, even our cooking pot is gone!”

 

“And my otter-skin cap, too!”

 

They were still trying to sort it all out when the black of night gave way to the grey of early morning. And then Wytt climbed out on a low-hanging branch and shrilled at them.

 

“Look at me, rodents! We are mighty, we are sly! You stink! Eaters of dust!”

 

He danced on the branch, threatening them with his little stick, and made so much noise that they all looked up and saw him clearly. But before any man could think what to do about it, with the ease and swiftness of a squirrel he ran out to the end of the branch and launched himself into another tree, and so vanished from their sight.

 

“The Little People!” someone cried. “I saw it! Did you see him, Gorm? It was the Little People who attacked us.”

 

“And put a curse on us, too!”

 

“It was a squirrel,” answered Gorm, “nothing but a chattering squirrel.”

 

“It was no squirrel that did this!” said the sentry, brandishing his punctured hand.

 

“Nor stole our cooking pot!”

 

“Nor took my hat!”

 

Before the morning was an hour older, the campsite was deserted. Gorm Blacktooth couldn’t rally his men. He could only follow after them, berating them, as they retreated as far from that place as they could go.

 

As for Wytt, he was already halfway back to Carbonek.

 

 

Chapter 48

In Forest and in City

 

Prester Jod bent over the man on Constan’s bed. Sunfish had been bathed, his hair and beard cleaned and combed and trimmed. Constan stood at the foot of the bed, and Hlah and May toward the back of the room. They’d answered the prester’s questions as best they could.

 

Jod stood up straight. “Preceptor,” he said, “I think you know who this is as well as I do.”

 

“I wouldn’t have thought it were possible,” said Constan, “but there can be no doubt of it. You’ve recognized him, too.”

 

“Your pardon!” Hlah interrupted. “But who is he?”

 

“He’s one of us,” Jod said. “Indeed, it was widely expected that he would be the next First Prester, Lord Reesh’s choice. But then we all believed he perished in the fire that brought down the Temple. His name is Orth, Prester Orth.”

 

“But I found him wandering in the swamplands by the Chariot River!” Hlah said. “How did he get there? It’s a mighty long way from Obann. And he’s never been able to tell me anything about it. He couldn’t even remember his own name.”

 

“He is one of our greatest scholars,” Jod said. He shook his head.

 

“His house is at the other end of Temple Street,” Constan said. “I wonder if any of his servants are still in the city. They will know him when they see him.”

 

“His house has not been sold?”

 

“It’s boarded up.”

 

“Let me think!” Jod said. He sat on the foot of the bed, studying Sunfish. No one spoke. Finally he said, “What do you think would happen, Constan, if we returned him to his own house? We would have to open it and air it out first, and bring back as many of his servants as we can, to clean it up. But what if he woke up one day in his old, familiar surroundings? I wonder if that might revive his memory.”

 

“It might,” said Constan, “if accompanied by earnest prayer.”

 

“He shall have that. I’ll pray for him myself.”

 

“And us, too,” Hlah said.

 

Jod smiled at him. “You are his truest friends,” he said. “Yes, I think your prayers will do him good.”

 

 

That same morning, Helki left Ryons in a thicket with some food and water. Cavall lay down beside him, and Angel perched in a nearby tree.

 

Only Helki knew the location of the thicket. He’d had to make a path to it, which he would unmake as he left.

 

“Whatever you do, Your Majesty, don’t leave this thicket,” he said. “I reckon I’m the only one can find you here, so you stay put till I come back. Don’t wander! There’s liable to be a lot of excitement in these woods before this day is done. But I ought to be back by sunset.”

 

“I’ll stay,” Ryons said, “but I’d rather go with you.” He had a bad feeling that after today he might never see Helki again.

 

“So the Heathen can catch you and take our king away from us?” Helki said. “Don’t even think of it.”

 

“Be careful,” Ryons said.

 

“I’m always careful. That’s why I’m alive.”

 

Helki ruffled the boy’s hair, patted Cavall, and backed out of the thicket. For a few minutes Ryons could hear him covering his tracks, putting everything back the way it was; and then, except for his hawk and his hound, he was alone.

 

It would have cheered him to know that his own army, full of friends, had reached the northern fringe of the forest and was preparing to march to Carbonek. The Abnaks were sure they could find the castle. The Attakotts and some of the Wallekki would remain behind to keep watch on the plain. The Ghols, eager to find the boy whom they called “Father,” had to be restrained from plunging into the forest ahead of everyone else and getting lost.

 

But the only army anyone in Lintum Forest knew about was Wusu’s army. And Helki was on his way to ambush it with six good archers, hoping to deprive it of its commander.

 

Helki himself had little hope for the plan, but his men wouldn’t be satisfied until they tried it. At the very least, he thought, the attempt would slow the army and put a strain on its provisions. “As long as none of us gets caught, it might be worth it,” he thought.

 

“We can’t all miss!” Andrus said, as they hurried to get ahead of the army and prepare the ambush.

 

“You can, and you probably will,” Helki said. “But no one ever robbed a nest without first climbing up a tree.”

 

 

Wytt waited until Jack and Ellayne were alone, coming back from gawking at Baby in his log corral. When he leaped into Ellayne’s arms, she almost fell backward in surprise.

 

“Where the mischief have you been!” she cried, and kissed the top of his head.

 

In chirps and chitters he told how he’d found the Omah and dispersed the outlaw band. He was just finishing when Martis joined them, and Ellayne had to repeat the story.

 

“The curse of the Little People!” Martis said, smiling at the thought. “They’re probably still running, those men.” He paused abruptly as an idea came into his head. He told Jack to find Bandy and bring him back, alone.

 

The Abnak’s eyes went wide when he saw Wytt perched on Ellayne’s shoulder. He let out a long whistle of astonishment.

 

“You make friends with him?” he marveled. “Men say there were plenty of Little People around here once, when they first come to this place. But then the Little People went away. Now they come back?”

 

“No—he’s been with us for a long time,” Jack said. Abnaks seldom saw Omah, and believed they were harmless as long as women were careful to put out a pot of gruel for them. Otherwise they would steal Abnak babies.

 

“I’m thinking,” Martis said, “that we might let our prisoners get a look at our little friend, and then let them go. If they spread the word that this place is under the protection of the Little People, most outlaws will leave it alone.”

 

Bandy nodded. “I was going to kill them,” he said, “but your good idea much better.”

 

He went on ahead to dismiss the guard who watched over the hole in the castle floor where the prisoners were kept. Ellayne explained to Wytt, “Look fierce, and give those men a good scare.”

 

“They’ve already had one,” Jack said. “One more ought to do it.”

 

The Abnaks’ well-known fondness for scalp dances had already made the prisoners fearful of their future; and they hadn’t come anywhere near to forgetting their exposure to witchcraft. But when they saw Wytt, they froze. He glared at them from Ellayne’s shoulder, enjoying himself.

 

“You know what happens to those who anger the Little People,” Martis said. “From now on, Carbonek is under their protection. We’re going to let you go so you can find your friends and tell them to stay out of this part of the forest. It’ll go hard with you, if we ever see any of you again.”

 

“But the witch—?” one of them dared to ask.

 

“You’ve seen what you’ve seen and heard what you’ve heard,” said Martis, “and unless you’re complete fools, that will be enough for you. Now come up, and I’ll cut your bonds.”

 

Herded off by Bandy, the outlaws lost no time disappearing into the forest.

 

“Now if only Helki and King Ryons were here,” Jack said, “everything would be fine.”

 

Martis shook his head. “You’re forgetting there’s still a whole Heathen army to be dealt with,” he said. “Helki can do amazing things, but it’s hard to imagine he can stop an army.”

 

 

General Hennen lent Gallgoid two of his trustiest men to escort Jandra and her nurse to Lintum Forest. As for getting them out of the city in the first place, the easiest way seemed safest: right out through the East Gate in the middle of the day, when the streets were crowded with people intent on errands of their own. Gurun explained it all to Abgayle, and at the appointed time and place, they were ready. Hennen’s soldiers met them as soon as they came out of the palace—a woman and a little girl, with a frightfully ugly bird hopping along behind them.

 

Gallgoid indulged himself to the point of accompanying the soldiers, pretending to be a mere acquaintance who’d stopped to talk to them. He was curious about the toddler who was hailed as a prophet. He’d had occasional glimpses of her, but had never heard her speak. Hopefully by the time Merffin Mord found out she’d left the city, she’d be too far away for his servants to catch up to her.

 

As pedestrians and carts and overloaded donkeys passed up and down the street, Abgayle, leading Jandra by the hand, fell in with the two soldiers and they began to walk together to the gate. Gallgoid brought up the rear, wishing Jandra’s bird could have been left behind. With its dirty purple feathers and beak full of sharp teeth, someone was bound to remember seeing it.

 

But then Jandra stopped, turned around, and held out her hands to the bird, which jumped into her embrace so she could carry it. The ugly thing looked too big for her to manage, but evidently she was used to it. Abgayle and the soldiers waited for her.

BOOK: The Fugitive Prince (Bell Mountain)
12.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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