Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1 (15 page)

The Enâri pounded their fists on the cold ground and wildly cheered, creating a brief uproar that chased the sleep from their heads. “This time we will prevail!” one shouted out.

“I have no doubt,” the wizard said. “No doubt whatsoever.”

Caldurian noted, even after all this time, how eager they still were to please Vellan out of sheer devotion. He also wanted to please the wizard of Kargoth with a rousing success, though realized that his loyalty had not aged as well as the Enâri’s over the passing years. He suspected it would never reach such levels again.

They remained on Barringer’s Landing until dusk. Caldurian met privately with Gwyn and a few other higher ranking Enâri to plan their journey to the Keppel Mountains. He calculated a five or six day march. The Enâri could easily hunt the food they needed, though Vellan created them to endure harsh conditions for days at a time with limited food and water. Caldurian did, however, transform piles of dried hay in one of the barns into heavy cloaks, one for each Enâr to combat the cold autumn nights.

His last piece of business before they departed concerned the missing member of their troop. In a brief discussion with Gwyn, Caldurian learned that the Enâr who had fled was named Jagga.

“After we escaped from the caves and arrived here, I counted to make sure everyone had made it safely back,” he said. “Of the five hundred, only one was missing. I dispatched scouts to look for him, but they returned empty handed. We searched the fields the next morning but were equally unsuccessful.”

“Jagga wasn’t lost or injured,” Caldurian said. “He deserted your ranks in an effort to satisfy his own selfish desires.” The wizard explained how Jagga had tricked Gavin into revealing the whereabouts of the key. “And since the key was stolen, I can only assume that Jagga was the one who had murdered to get it. But where he is now...” Caldurian shrugged. “Perhaps he’ll dispose of the key to protect all the Enâri or find his way back to Vellan and let him destroy it. But in either case, none of our enemies have it.”

“Still, I brand Jagga a traitor now that I know what became of him,” Gwyn said bitterly. “He violated his pact with this group. I would kill him were he here now!”

“I don’t doubt that you would. But vengeance at its proper time,” the wizard said with longing. “Savor the thought for now.”

Just after sunset, after Gwyn had ordered the Enâri in line, Caldurian started them on their trek to the Black Hills and beyond. The crisp twilight air heightened their senses. The Fox Moon, nearly at first quarter, cast a gentle light from high above to guide them. Only a few miles west in Kanesbury, the third night of the Harvest Festival had commenced.

CHAPTER 9

A Change in Direction

Nicholas hiked northwest along Grangers Road into hilly farmland with only thoughts of Katherine keeping him company. After leaving the security of Amanda Stewart’s ice cellar almost two hours ago, he had weaved his way through the village in secret, hiding in shadows or taking refuge among trees, careful to avoid any festival revelers. He stayed away from River Road altogether, certain it would be the first place that Constable Brindle and his men would patrol.

After placing a few miles between himself and Kanesbury, Nicholas felt chilled and fatigued, yet believed he was safe from pursuit. But the need for rest badgered him, so he stepped off Grangers Road and plopped down in a grassy field to recuperate while contemplating all that had happened in the village–the robbery at the gristmill, his attempted arrest and escape, and the chilling murder of Arthur Weeks. Surreal images swirled in his mind like an endless bad dream.

But he couldn’t deal with the situation logically and tried to block it out. He tossed the blanket roll Katherine had provided him on the ground and lay down, resting his head upon it. He gazed at the stars, brilliant gems that hypnotically soothed him and slowly washed the strain and exhaustion out of his limbs. He smiled, his eyes fixed on one constellation as if sensing its slow westward arc across the sky. He felt as if he was moving too, floating away to a place far from all the troubles that plagued him. As the stars grew unfocused, he chuckled and felt a cool wind sweep across his face and exhaled deeply as both eyelids closed and merciful sleep took hold.

They were chasing him. Voices barked at Nicholas from behind, ordering him to stop. Thundering horses galloped closer and closer. No escape in sight. He ran as fast as he could, lungs burning, heart pounding. He could hardly see in the darkness, tripping over branches, scattering frosty leaves. Cold wind slapped his face. They had him cornered like a wild animal. Trapped!

Nicholas sat up with a jolt, his head swimming with the remnants of an exhausting dream. Only the icy darkness surrounded him. How long had he been asleep? He glanced at the stars and noticed that a few of the constellations he had been observing were now sinking behind the western horizon. He realized he had slept for several hours and that it must be past midnight.

He slowly stood, grabbed the blanket roll and continued along Grangers Road. Still cold and drowsy, he knew he should either build a fire or find shelter and get some proper sleep for the remainder of the night. He would quickly wear himself down otherwise at this grueling pace with no chance of arriving in Morrenwood or elsewhere in good health and spirits. He then wondered exactly where he was intending to go. His feet were moving, but he felt like he was walking in place.

A short time later he spotted a farmhouse with a barn set in back of the property. A string of large oak trees dotted the area, reminding him of Maynard’s farm. He couldn’t imagine what his friend must be thinking now, wondering if Maynard felt saddened, betrayed or disappointed. The idea of turning himself in again invaded his thoughts.

Nicholas hurried to the barn and slipped in through a side door. Three horses and a few head of cattle slept noisily in their stalls. He floundered in the darkness until he stumbled across a large pile of hay in one corner away from the animals and the main doors. Without a second thought, he dropped into the tangy smelling pile, untied the rolled-up blanket and draped it over his shivering body. He fell asleep in an instant.

A pair of round, leafy green eyes stared unblinking at him when he awoke. Beams of morning sunlight shot in through a side window, illuminating the freckled face of a young girl not more than thirteen. She watched Nicholas with a mix of curiosity and infatuation. He sat up startled, a piece of hay stuck in his hair.

“My mom says you can have breakfast with us if you’d like,” the girl said matter-of-factly. “We’re having eggs and fried beef. Do you like eggs and fried beef?”

“Uh, sure…” Nicholas plucked the hay out of his hair, looking askance at the girl. “You’re, um–
who
?”

“My name’s Holly Nellis. I live on this farm, mister. I found you this morning when I went to visit Elly. One of the cows over there,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction. “I always preferred Gretchen–for the cow’s name, of course!–but my dad chose Elly. Said the face reminded him of his father’s cousin Elly,” she said, punctuated by a fruity chuckle. “Anyway, Mom checked you out, mister, after I told her I found you. She decided not to poke you with a pitch fork. Mom let you sleep on instead because she thought you looked honest. I agreed.”

“Thanks,” he said, still half dazed. “Is it all right if I get up?”

“Sure. Eggs are frying in the pan.”

“That’s just fine, Holly,” he replied, believing he should bolt as soon as he stepped outside the barn. He was still near Kanesbury and word of his escape may have reached this farmhouse. But since Mrs. Nellis hadn’t wakened him earlier at the point of a pitchfork, he assumed his presence hadn’t aroused any suspicion on her part. And a hot breakfast right now sounded too good to pass up, so he decided to chance it and stay. “By the way, Holly, my name is Nicholas.”

He stood and rolled up the blanket, retying it around the sack of food Katherine had given him. Holly watched and grinned as if fascinated with a new pet she had been given for her birthday. Nicholas smiled back.

“You’re sure your mother invited me inside?” he asked a few moments later as she walked with him to the house. A sweet smell of wood smoke issued from the chimney as a swirl of autumn leaves settled along a stone path leading to the porch. Nicholas set his blanket roll on the bottom step. “I’d appreciate a meal right now, but the last thing I want to do is intrude.”

“You should have thought of that before sleeping in our barn,” Holly joked. “Besides, you know my name now, so I’m not a stranger. Mom and Dad always allow passersby a drink at the well if they need one. Sometimes they’ll give them a slice of bread and dried beef to send them on their way.”

“That’s very kind of your parents. They must be nice people. I guess I picked the right barn to settle in,” he said as they ambled up the porch steps.

“I guess you did.”

A flood of warm kitchen air greeted them, peppered with the scent of frying eggs and sizzling slices of beef. Holly’s mother ushered Nicholas to a seat at the table as if he were her visiting son. Mr. Nellis, still at his seat eating breakfast, eyed him stonily for a moment until satisfied that the stranger seemed a good fit for his table, then smiled and extended a hand to shake. Before Nicholas could utter a few words of thanks, Mrs. Nellis set a plate of fried eggs and beef in front of him, accompanied by slices of buttered bread, a wooden pitcher of milk and a mug of hot spiced cider. In moments, the four of them were eating and talking as if Nicholas had sat down there for breakfast every day.

“That’s an honorable thing, wanting to join up with the King’s Guard. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thanks, Mr. Nellis, but like I said, I’m still contemplating the matter.”

Nicholas felt uncomfortable talking about the details of his life in light of recent events, but knew he had to tell his hosts something to explain his presence. But the longer he enjoyed their generosity and friendship, the easier it was to let slip details about who he was and where he had come from. But a part of him didn’t care. It felt wonderful to be included again after experiencing the harsh life of an outcast last night.

“I’d like to pay for your hospitality, Mr. Nellis. I have a little money with me,” he said. “Or maybe I could chop firewood instead.”

“Nonsense. Sally and I are more than happy to offer up our barn to someone on a cold night. Why, if old Elly didn’t mind having you sleep in there, why should we?” he said, erupting in laughter.

“Russell, you are a wit!” his wife said, placing a hand to her mouth to suppress a fit of giggles. “Nicholas, pay no mind to him. He’s a teaser, that one.”

“Sam’s just like Dad,” Holly said to Nicholas, poking an elbow in his side. “Always quick with a joke.”

“Who’s Sam?”

“Sam’s our son, Nicholas. About your age. He’s usually up by now tending to chores, but we’re letting him sleep late today,” Mrs. Nellis explained. “On account of the Harvest Festival. He and some friends were out celebrating late last night.”

“
Oh
?” Nicholas said, his throat tightening as he swallowed a piece of bread. “Where did they celebrate?”

Mr. Nellis slurped from his mug of cider before greedily attacking the beef on his plate with a knife and fork. “Living out here in the middle of nowhere, Sam and his buddies usually tramp down through the fields into Mitchell, Ives or Foley to see what those villages have going on.”

“Last year they went to all three villages!” Mrs. Nellis said with wide-eyed amazement. “In one night! Imagine that. Boys, you know.”

“That’s great,” Nicholas said, at ease again as he picked up his fork. “Hope they had a good time.”

“No doubt. But this year,” Mr. Nellis continued between mouthfuls, “the boys hiked into Kanesbury for a change of pace. Wanted to see how you people celebrate.”

Nicholas turned a shade paler, nearly dropping his fork. “Oh really.”

“I suppose when Sam wakes up, you two can compare stories,” Mrs. Nellis suggested. “Now wouldn’t it be funny as fish, Russell, if Sam and Nicholas ran into each other last night? And now here he is, having breakfast in our very own house.” She grinned at Nicholas. “Isn’t that a funny thought?”

He nodded awkwardly while chewing on some bread. “I guess...”

“Nicholas, why’d you leave your village last night?” Holly piped up. “I mean, with all the celebrating going on, why leave then of all times? What’s another day or two?”

“Oh, eat your eggs, Holly, and don’t pry into the man’s business,” her father said, turning his attention to Nicholas while pointing a fork in the air. “Now who’s farm did you say you worked on, Nicholas? I conduct some business in Kanesbury on occasion.”

“I don’t believe I mentioned it,” he uncomfortably replied.

“I remember an Albert Hardy. Think that was his name,” Mr. Nellis thoughtfully muttered, scratching an ear. “You know him?”

“More cider, Nicholas?” Mrs. Nellis asked simultaneously, taking his mug before he could reply.

“No,” he responded to both questions at once.

“I believe his name was Hardy,” Mr. Nellis said to himself. “Let me think...”

“One more mug of hot cider on a chilly morning will do you good,” said Mrs. Nellis, hustling off to the wood stove and ladling out more of the drink from a steaming kettle. “Oh, I think I hear Sam skittering around upstairs,” she added, handing the mug back to Nicholas. “I’ll fetch another setting so you two can talk at the table. Holly, dear, pull another slice of beef out of the salt barrel and toss it on the frying pan.”

“Sure, Mom,” she said, bouncing up from the table.

“Now, Nicholas,” Mr. Nellis began, “if you’d like to stay here for a while and–”

“You know, there’s something I need to do!” Nicholas blurted out, standing abruptly and knocking the table with his knee, trying desperately to think of an excuse to leave before Sam came downstairs. “Outside, there’s uh...”

“Say no more,” Mr. Nellis added. “The privy’s just out back.”

“
That’s
it!” Nicholas said, grateful for an excuse as he hurried out backward through the front door. “Thanks.”

Holly grinned. Just at that moment, her brother Sam bounded into the kitchen, grabbing a slice of bread off the table and shoving half of it into his mouth. He washed it down with a cup of milk.

“Not even a
good
morning
first, Sam? We have a breakfast guest,” his mother hastily explained. “Some manners please?”

“Sorry,” he said in muffled words. He playfully punched his sister in the arm before sitting at the table and looking around. “Who’s here?”

“Sam, don’t be a gnat!” said Holly as she returned to the table rubbing her arm.

“Don’t pick on your sister!” Mr. Nellis wiped a slice of bread through a river of egg yolk on his plate and devoured it.

“If she didn’t look like a toad’s first cousin, I wouldn’t have to,” Sam joked.

“Gee, let me set some time aside later to laugh at that one,” Holly said dryly. She stuck out her tongue at her brother.

“Sam, behave,” Mrs. Nellis said as she hastily prepared him breakfast. “Did you have a nice time with your friends?”

“Yeah, Ma. But you wouldn’t believe what happened last night in Kanesbury.” He stood to get some cider. “There was a murder in the village,” he said, dipping a mug into the kettle and scooping out some of the hot drink.

Mrs. Nellis put a hand to her hip. “A murder? Sam, don’t take cider that way, you’ll drip all over! Are you serious?”

Sam nodded enthusiastically. “It happened a few streets away from the main celebration.” He retook his seat. “Who knows, but I may have passed right by the murderer during the night!” he gushed as if it were something to be proud of. “Never had that kind of excitement down in the three villages.”