Final Kingdom (5 page)

A vicious snowstorm delayed them, but Beorn promised, “Three more days, and no more snow.”

“That'll be a relief,” Josh said, and the others heartily agreed.

Reb had been sullen and angry with Beorn ever since their scuffle. But as they tramped along the next day, Beorn suddenly turned to him and said, “You would make a good dwarf.”

Reb stared at him. “I'd rather be anything than a dwarf.”

“You're a tough man. I take back what I said about you,” Beorn said. “I admire courage and toughness. All dwarfs honor those things.” Then Beorn turned and walked away.

Reb looked at Abbey. “What do you think of that?”

“I think he was making some kind of an apology.”

“It's the first kind word he's said to
anybody
. I didn't know he had it in him.”

“I think the dwarfs are just like that. They're probably warm and loving to each other.”

“I doubt that.” Reb grinned. “I bet that in their courtship the men and women beat up on each other with sticks.”

“You're impossible, Reb! There's not a romantic bone in your body.”

“Well, you've got enough romantic bones for the whole crew.” He felt better, however, and later told Josh, “I guess the dwarf is all right. Just a little bit hard to get to know.”

“He's tough enough, that's for sure. And that's a good thing for us.”

Half an hour later, Josh found out exactly how tough Beorn was. They were trudging along through light snow when suddenly, out of nowhere, a monstrous white form rose up. The only color he saw was the red roof of its gaping mouth.

“Polar bear!”
Josh screamed. He fumbled with numb hands for the sword at his side.
We're dead this time!
he thought, knowing that a puny sword would never stop that monster. But he managed to cry, “Weapons out!”

All of them pulled their swords, and Glori fumbled for the bow strapped to her back. They watched open-mouthed as the bear pounded toward them. It was at least twice as big as any Oldworld bear. Its beady black eyes gleamed.

He must weigh a thousand pounds!
Josh thought with astonishment. He was running forward, sword at the ready, but he still feared that the mighty creature would not be slowed by the sword of any man.

Crouched between the Sleepers and the bear, Beorn gripped his harpoon in both hands.

There was no place to run, and Beorn well knew the power of a bear's slashing talons.
He'll have one chance,
Josh thought.
And one only.
Beorn would also well know that the bear's muscular body was so tough that a harpoon, even if it penetrated its chest, would
not stop the charge.
It must strike in the open mouth —right up through the brain.

The bear's feet slapped the snow in a relentless
slap, slap, slap.
He loomed larger and larger, charging straight at the hunching dwarf.

He hasn't got a chance,
Josh thought desperately as he moved up behind Beorn.
None of us do.

The bear now was hardly ten feet away. Beorn lunged forward, his full weight behind the blow. The bear's mouth was open, saliva on its red tongue, huge teeth curving inward. Straight toward that target, the open red mouth, Beorn drove the barbed end of the harpoon.

His aim was accurate. The mighty beast met the weapon at full speed. Beorn's feet were planted when the harpoon penetrated—but then the weight of the bear struck him. He was thrown high into the air, then hit the ice, where he rolled over and over and over. The harpoon had been ripped out of his hands.

The bear rolled too, clawing at the harpoon that extended out of its mouth. But the barb had pierced the skull, and, after a few feeble motions, the monster lay dead.

Beorn came to his feet, took one look, and gave a victory cry.
“Aaiiii,
I have killed you, my friend!”

“Beorn!” Josh shouted.

All of the Sleepers crowded around the dwarf.

“Beorn, you're wounded!” Abbey said.

The bear's talons had ripped the front of the dwarf's furs. Abbey pulled them back to reveal great bloody furrows across his muscular brown chest. “Quick!” she said. “We've got to do something. Those are terrible wounds.”

Beorn stared at her. “They are not bad.”

“They're
terrible!
And everybody knows animal
claws will cause infection. We've got to treat these wounds right now!”

They put up one tent and got Beorn inside, where Abbey took charge. She was actually very good with minor injuries—but Josh knew she had never seen wounds like these. She said, “We'll have to wash these with disinfectant. Then we'll have to sew up the worst ones.”

“Have you ever done that, Abbey?” Josh whispered.

“No, but somebody's got to do it. Do you want to try it?”

“Not me!”

None of the others volunteered, and it was Abbey who took some gut thread and a crude needle from the kit that the dwarf himself carried.

The dwarf murmured, “Flask in my sack.”

Reb found the flask in the dwarf's sack and brought it back.

Beorn took the top off the flask and turned it up. The liquid gurgled as he swallowed it, and Josh smelled the scent of alcohol.

Five minutes after he had taken this, Beorn was practically unconscious.

Abbey bent to her task, her lips set and her eyes determined. She sewed together the worst of the cuts and bound Beorn's chest with underclothing ripped into bandages. When she had finished, she said shakily, “I don't know how I did it—but I guess you do what you have to do.”

“We won't be traveling very fast now,” Josh said. “And we can't go on at all until he's able to travel, and that'll be a week.”

They were mistaken, however. The next day Beorn sat up and said, “We travel now.”

“No,” Abbey said,
“not
now. You'll pull those stitches out. We'll wait until tomorrow at least.”

Beorn stared at her but then agreed. “You are a good seamstress,” he said. He pulled his furs to one side and looked down at his chest. “Very neat.”

Actually they had to wait two days, and even then Beorn was not able to carry his pack. They divided his kit among themselves.

Beorn led the way, however. They made slow time, but three days later he pointed forward to a thin line of dark mountains. “There—no more ice. We can get rid of these furs. And the tents.”

“That'll be a relief,” Dave said. He was carrying most of Beorn's supplies because he was the largest and the strongest. “I'll be glad to see the last of this territory.”

That night Abbey, who was wakeful, found Beorn staring into the campfire. “I need to change that bandage, Beorn,” she told him.

Beorn nodded and slipped off his fur top. He watched the girl's face as she undid the bandages and put fresh ones on.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

“I'd do it for anyone. Besides, you're one of us.”

The idea seemed novel to Beorn. He was quiet for a long time after putting his furs back on. “No, I'm not one of you. I'm not one of anyone.”

“What about your family?”

“They were killed by the Dark Lord. My wife and my three children.”

The starkness of his reply caused Abbey to open her eyes wide. “Oh, I'm so sorry,” she said and put a hand on his arm.

Beorn looked down at her hand. “You are kind. I wish I were kind. Always I'm angry.”

Later Abbey told Josh, “No wonder he's surly— he's lost everything he loved. Now he lives only to fight the Dark Lord.”

“I feel bad,” Josh said. “We haven't been all that friendly to him. I guess we never understand why other people act the way they do.”

Two days later the ice began to break up into hard ground—rock at first, then soil. Then trees appeared, and Josh said, “We're out of it at last. I hope we don't have as much trouble finding the centaurs as we did getting out of Aluk land.”

“We won't. I know the way there,” Glori said. “In fact, I don't think you need stay with us, Beorn, if you want to return to your tribe.”

“No,” Josh said instantly. “We do need him.” He reached over suddenly and slapped Beorn on the back. “You saved our bacon with that bear! There wouldn't be any of us here if it weren't for you. No, Beorn's one of us—he stays to the end.”

A strange light glittered in the dark eyes of the dwarf. His lips relaxed from their tense lines into a smile, and he said, “I will go with you. All the way.”

Glori took over the leadership. As Goél had said, she had traveled to the Land of the Centaurs before. They made better time now, and Beorn continued to heal more quickly than anyone had thought possible. When the weather grew milder, they discarded the furs with relief and left the tents behind.

As he put on more comfortable clothes, Wash said, “I hope I never have to put on a fur coat again!”

“Me too.” Reb clapped his Stetson back on his
head. “And I wish I had me a hoss to ride.” He still had his lasso, however. “You just let a reindeer or something go by—anything with four legs—and I'll rope it. Then me and you'll ride, Josh.”

They were not, however, to do anything like that, for on the second day after Glori took over, disaster struck.

They were walking cheerfully along in a valley, talking and laughing, when suddenly Josh stumbled and coughed.

Sarah, walking beside him, turned to see what was wrong. “Josh—” she began, and then she froze in horror—an arrow had been driven through Josh's shoulder!

“Josh!”
And then she heard the cries of warriors. Quickly looking upward, she saw a band of men armed with bows lining the top of the ravine.

Arrows began to fly. Sarah saw one scrape Jake's leg.

Reb cried, “We've got to get out of here! They've got us pinned down.”

At that moment a unit of soldiers clad in leather armor and armed with swords pounced out from behind the clump of bushes straight ahead.

It was Beorn who met them, giving his war cry. He swung his battle-ax left and right, but he was driven back.

Reb and Dave and Jake battled with their swords as Glori and the girls fitted arrows to their bows.

Sarah nocked an arrow and targeted a warrior who was coming at her with sword swinging wildly. He went down, and she fitted another arrow, but she soon saw that the swordsmen were too many for them. Their number was overwhelming.

“Back!” Beorn said. “Retreat!”

Sarah felt the dwarf's hands on her. She resisted, crying, “We can't leave Josh!” But she had no chance against Beorn's strength.

They fought a retreat, and it was the arrows of the girls that finally discouraged pursuit.

They paused to draw breath in a grove of trees, and Reb looked down at a ragged cut across his palm. He took out his handkerchief, wound the cloth around it, and said slowly, “They got Josh.”

“We've got to go back and get him!” Sarah said.

Glori said at once, “Yes, we must counterattack. Everyone get ready.”

Beorn shook his head. “No. We must not go back. There are too many of them.”

“But we can't leave
Josh
there,” Sarah pleaded. “Beorn, we've
got
to get him.”

Beorn shook his head again, fiercely. “We have a mission for Goél. If we go back, we'll
all
be taken. Then who'll carry out Goél's orders?”

A fierce debate arose.

Glori said, “You may be a coward, Beorn, but the rest of us are not! We're going back to fight and rescue Josh.”

Beorn stared at her. “You are wrong,” he said quietly, his guttural voice very deep in his chest. “If we go back, we cannot win. Then Goél's mission will not be carried out.”

Glori won the debate; but as it turned out, Beorn was right. They made a futile attack. The enemy swarms were too great. Every Sleeper was wounded and driven back.

Even Sarah saw that it was hopeless. She had taken an arrow in the calf of her leg, and the pain was excruciating, but she could only think,
They've got Josh. They'll kill him.

Beorn squatted down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know how you feel,” he said quietly. “I, too, have lost the ones I loved.”

Sarah looked up, her eyes brimming. She could not say a word. No matter how this battle turned out, she had lost. Without Josh, Nuworld was not the place that it had been.

“We must go on,” Glori announced loudly.

Jake looked at her, almost with anger. “Your idea didn't work too well. Now all of us are shot up, and we still don't have Josh.”

Beorn said at once, “Let us not fight among ourselves. We must go to the Land of the Centaurs. That is the command of Goél.” His eyes narrowed, and he murmured in Sarah's hearing, “But how did they find us— those soldiers of the Dark Lord? How did they find us?”

“Maybe they just happened on us by chance,” she said.

“No, I don't think so. I think they were sent to this place.” A heavy expression came into his dark eyes. Then he said, “We must be watchful, Sarah. The way before us is dangerous, and we are weak.”

He turned away, and his powerful shoulders drooped as though they bore a burden.

W
ash could not remember the Sleepers ever being so spiritless and unhappy as they all were on their retreat from the battle with the servants of the Dark Lord.

As they made their way through a mountain pass, still marching steadily upward, Jake remarked, “I might as well tell you, Wash. I'm in a blue funk.”

Wash gave him a sober look. “I don't know what a blue funk is, but if it means being totally miserable— then I've got it too.” He lifted his eyes to where Glori led the way, then glanced backward to Beorn, who was protecting the rear of their small column. “Ever since we lost Josh,” he said mournfully, “I don't care whether school keeps or not.”