Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web - Volume 1 (17 page)

“That’s ridiculous!” Nicholas said. “King Justin is an honorable man. He would never condone such doings.”

“Most would agree, but war has been waged. And should King Drogin succeed, who knows what misery and misfortune he might send our way. If he falsely blames Arrondale for the assassination of King Hamil, he may use that excuse to launch a war against your kingdom, and in time, perhaps Montavia. If diplomacy can’t prevent that, then we must be prepared to fight.”

Nicholas shook his head, again feeling his imagined military adventure quickly losing its luster. A trip to Morrenwood held little appeal at the moment, but a return home offered even less. His mind wrestled with the dilemma as the campfire snapped and sputtered in the chilly night air.

Nicholas was given some blankets and allowed to share one of the tents to spend the night. But before sleep found him, he remained around the fire past midnight with several of the soldiers, listening to stories of their journey and exploits. Yet despite an unadventurous start to their mission, most of the men envisioned a future filled with exciting and dangerous escapades. Most had never traveled far beyond their hometowns and boldly speculated about what Laparia had to offer. Nicholas again felt the romance of unexplored roads and wide open spaces tugging at his heart.

But in the first glimmer of gray dawn, the lofty dreams of the previous night had been reduced to cold, vague memories as tents were rolled up and backpacks slung reluctantly over shoulders in the damp autumn air. Soon the two hundred weary soldiers from Montavia crossed River Road into another field and headed south toward the Pine River. They silently vanished into an eddying mist that cloaked the ground, leaving Nicholas alone again on the road with his thoughts and dreams in a tangle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 10

 

On King’s Road

 

 

Nicholas spent a few hours that morning rambling about the village of Mitchell. The residents there, as in Kanesbury, were enjoying the final day of their Harvest Festival. But the pleasant aromas of outdoor cooking and the cheerful din of the crowds did little to dispel his melancholy. What he wouldn’t give to be home enjoying the last night of the Festival instead of being branded an outcast. He left the village by noon, feeling as sad and alone as when he had departed Kanesbury.

A short time later, he walked through the village of Foley about a mile to the west. He stopped for lunch in a tavern on the main road. The laughter and camaraderie of other patrons reminded him of the many good times he had enjoyed at the Water Barrel Inn. But instead of cheering him, the memories tormented him as he sat alone off to one side of the room. He ate his meal quickly, paid the bill and departed.

He took shelter in some woods that night, building a small fire to keep warm and devouring the last scraps of food Katherine had supplied him. While eating, he contemplated the last few days of his life, staring moodily into the flames, not quite sure what to do or where to go. The next day found him back on the road, discouraged and wandering aimlessly through other tiny communities on his way to Morrenwood. He politely declined offers for a ride from anyone passing by on a horse and wagon, preferring the solitude of his walk.

He spent the night in an abandoned barn as heavy rains fell, battering the roof relentlessly well past daybreak. He found little sleep during those hours, hounded by tiring and fitful dreams. He took to the road later the next morning, exhausted and miserable. The damp air smelled of rotting hay, and huge mud puddles challenged his every step. Low drifting clouds appeared as tattered sails on a ship, threatening more rain. The charm and adventure of the open road wore thin as each hour passed.

River Road had begun curving southwest when he reached the intersection with King’s Road. He roughly estimated that it was forty miles to Morrenwood, recalling colorful maps he had studied as a boy in Maynard’s house. River Road, however, continued south for over a hundred miles to Arrondale’s border and beyond. Nicholas had never stepped foot outside the kingdom and considered traveling south to see what that part of the world had to offer. But he quickly dismissed the notion, knowing he couldn’t run away forever. Whether joining the King’s Guard or not, he wanted to finish his journey to the capital if only to clear his mind. Rambling about the countryside was not a long-term option. Standing at a fork in the road, he tucked his blanket roll under his arm and headed west.

 

Stretches of pine woodland lay a stone’s throw away on either side of King’s Road during those first few miles, the Darden Wood towering to the north and the Pernum Wood to the south. Since it was nearing sunset, Nicholas decided to soon settle down for the night. He walked another half hour as fresh breezes swept along the road, breaking up clouds and clearing the sky. He watched the sun dip behind a string of rolling hills in the west, tinting the skyline strawberry-red. As twilight faded, a field of stars ignited like glowing embers. The Fox Moon, just past first quarter, loomed high in the east. Lingering just above the western horizon hung the larger Bear Moon, now only a sliver of a crescent.

Nicholas yawned as he turned off the road to his right. He headed for the Darden Wood as the trees on that side appeared closer. He hoped to find a dry spot to build a fire, lie down and sleep for hours. He had fled Kanesbury four nights ago and every muscle in his body ached. He was sure he had lost a little weight since then and quite certain he could use a hot bath and a change of clothes.

He approached the woods through a short expanse of dried grass and weeds. The towering pines reached for the crystalline stars above which he gazed at for several moments, comforted by their steadfast security. He strolled blithely toward the woods, still looking upward in amazement when he suddenly stumbled over a gopher hole. Nicholas fell, crashing his elbow hard into the ground. He flopped onto his back, muttering in pain as he massaged his injury. He chided himself for being so clumsy and then laughed as he imagined himself dancing with Katherine with the same poise and grace.

He sat and rested for a moment, his ego bruised more than his elbow, when he noticed a flicker of light inside the woods. Nicholas strained his eyes for a better look, wondering if he was imagining things before slowly getting to his feet. But he had only taken a couple of steps when the world suddenly tipped sideways again. He felt his feet kicked out from underneath him and stumbled to the ground a second time, his elbow again slamming into the cold dirt. When he turned and looked up, a dark figure loomed over him with a large stone clutched in its fist poised precariously above his head.

“If you’re planning to rob me, I have very little money,” Nicholas said, wincing. His elbow burned with pain.

The hooded figure wavered slightly, still holding the stone above Nicholas. “I am not a thief!” The voice was that of a young woman. She removed her hood with one hand, revealing waves of hair that cascaded down her shoulders. The moonlight cast a soft glow upon her troubled eyes. “And I’m not here to hurt you, though I can’t assume the same about you, sir.”

“Oh, so that kick to my legs from behind was just a friendly welcome?”

“I needed to get the advantage before you attacked my camp,” she replied. “Tell me–do you work with Samuel? Did he send you to find me?”

Nicholas sat up on his good elbow, causing the woman to raise the stone in her defense. “Look, I’m not here to rob you or to find you,” he said amiably. “Nobody sent me. And as for this Samuel fellow–never heard of him.” He raised an eyebrow. “That rock aimed at my head is really starting to annoy me. Could you lower it please?”

“I could, but I won’t, at least not yet.” Her voice wavered. “First explain why you were heading toward my shelter.”

“I didn’t know anyone was in these woods,” he said. “I’m just looking for a place to spend the night. I didn’t even see your campfire until after I, um...”

“Inspected the ground for bugs?” she said lightly, cracking a thin smile. “Not the most sure-footed gentleman in the ballroom, are you.”

“Hey, that was a big gopher hole. And that second trip from you was totally unnecessary,” he said. “Couldn’t you see I was already injured?”

The woman looked at him askance, still uncertain of his intentions. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” She lowered the rock just a bit yet still kept a cautious eye upon him. “You seem a friendly enough sort, but there are plenty of trees on the opposite side of the road. Perhaps the Pernum Wood might be more to your liking.”

“Are you serious?” Nicholas said, carefully standing up as the woman took a defensive step backward, the stone still raised in front of her. He rubbed his sore elbow and scowled. “You attacked me, remember? And you want
me
to leave?” He sighed, shaking his head with mild annoyance yet attuned to the distrust and fear still evident in the woman’s demeanor. “Look, miss, I’m not going to cause you any trouble, but I’m certainly not going to trudge all the way back to those other woods because you say so.”

“A gentleman would.”

“Maybe a gentleman without an elbow burning with pain.” Nicholas shook his head, not wishing to sound combative or sarcastic. “Look, you stay by your fire and I’ll keep to the edge of the trees over there, well out of your way,” he said, pointing west. “I just want some sleep. Goodnight.” He leaned down and grabbed his blanket roll and shuffled off toward the distant trees as the young woman watched him depart with an icy stare, still clutching the stone.

When Nicholas reached the woods at a spot he thought was an appropriate distance away, he gathered some twigs and dried weeds and tried to start a fire. With his sore elbow still bothering him, he had difficulty generating a flame, finally getting a small blaze going that sputtered and snapped as some of the kindling was still damp. But the fire didn’t last long, producing more smoke than heat, and he soon gave up trying to stoke the blaze. Being too tired to search for drier fuel, he finally lay down on the ground bundled in his hooded coat and blanket, hoping sleep would soon take him.

 

Something moved in the shadows. When Nicholas opened his eyes, the beginnings of a dream scattered from his mind. A sound had awakened him–a snapping twig? The crunch of dried leaves? He was shivering in the night chill. Then he noticed her figure standing nearby among the trees, the smoke from his dead fire swirling in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up, not sure how long he had been sleeping. He rubbed a hand through his hair, still a bit bleary-eyed.

“If you’d like, you may sit by my fire and keep warm,” the young woman said.

“No rock?” Nicholas replied with a faint smile, noting that she had approached unarmed.

“No flames?” she responded dryly, indicating the charred twigs with a turn of her head. “Being downwind of you, all I could smell was damp smoke for the last half hour. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sorry.”

She beckoned him with a wave of her hand. “Follow me. I could inspect your sore elbow if you’d like.”

“Thanks.”

She gazed curiously at the weary stranger. “Do you have a name?”

“Nicholas,” he said, standing up while still wrapped in the blanket. “And you?”

“One thing at a time,” she replied guardedly while leading him back to her section of the woods. “Let’s tend to that injury first.”

 

A short time later, Nicholas was savoring a sweet apple in front of a warm fire. The soreness in his elbow subsided as the evening chill left his weary limbs. He noticed the woman throwing several glances his way as if still not convinced that he meant her no harm. They were about the same age, and in the glow of the firelight he noticed how pretty she looked. A pair of dark brown eyes matched the color of her hair. He thought he noted a slight resemblance to Katherine but kept that to himself.

“Thanks again for the apple. My food supplies have dwindled down to nothing,” he said.

“I’m happy to share with someone in need.” She nervously tended to the fire. “If I may ask, why are you out alone in these parts without food or a horse?”

“I might ask the same of you.”

“I still have food.”

Nicholas smiled. “You’ve got me there. But if you must know, I was heading to Morrenwood. Thinking about it anyway.”

“Morrenwood?” She glanced uneasily his way. “What’s in the capital city?” she asked, feigning a casual air.

“I was considering joining up–” Nicholas caught himself, wondering if he should reveal any of his personal life to a stranger in light of recent events. But as he was about forty miles away from Kanesbury and no authority had yet found him, he decided that maybe it was safe to open up a little to this woman who had just demonstrated a bit of kindness despite her earlier behavior. “I was thinking about possibly signing on with the King’s Guard–in spite of my recent failed attempt to build a campfire.”

“I’m impressed. That’s a noble calling.” She added a few sticks to the blaze and then tightened her cloak around her. “But why did you say
possibly
?”

“There are other complications I’m not eager to talk about. Some things back home still need tending to and, well... Maybe I should go back there.”

“And where is home?”

Nicholas was reluctant to answer as another wave of distrust swept over him alongside the memories of his escape. But sensing no deceit on her part, he decided to take the extra step and gain a bit more of her trust and perhaps make an ally, if only for one night. “I’m from Kanesbury, a small village to the east.”

“I’ve heard of that,” she said, seeming to relax a bit. “So you left home before first attending to these unfinished matters? You must have been in a hurry.”

He shrugged. “Like I said, it’s complicated. I really don’t want to discuss it.”

“Understood.”

“Not that I’m being rude or ungrateful for your hospitality–excluding that kick in the legs,” he quickly added. The woman tried not to smile. “By the way, what’s your story? And your name?”

She thought for a moment, her chin resting gently upon her folded fingers as she studied the flickering flames. “You may call me Megan. And I’m on my way to visit a relative in Kent County.”

“That’s quite a hike north. Where in the county does your relative live?”

“My great aunt Castella resides in a seaside village called Boros on Sage Bay. I’ve been told it’s quite lovely there.”

“And you decided to go to Boros all alone?”

Megan looked directly into his eyes. “That is also a complicated matter, Nicholas. I’ll spare you the details.”

“I’d love details. A good story would suit me right now even if it’s only about your aunt. I’ve been bored silly the last few days.”

“She’s my
great
aunt. But don’t expect me to provide details of my personal life just to ease your boredom, Nicholas. After all, I’m not a wandering storyteller.”

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