They passed through the village of Tindle, a pleasant little place, and the market was still running. They saw the prices and were glad they bought their supplies at the farm. They refilled their water bags at the village well and talked casually with the residents. Yes, they were told, there were brigands in the eastern hills. No, they were told, Baron Garrago hadn’t done anything about them, but they hadn’t been there long and he was old and ill.
They camped a couple of miles east of the village, along a small brook, running full in the early spring. They picketed their horses, made a frugal dinner, and were getting ready for bed when the horses whinnied. Coming into their camp, with a bag over his shoulder and a stick in his hand, was Ben.
“I thought you might be here,” he remarked, smiling. “I thought to myself, they want to catch these bad men, but it’s gitting late in the day. I bet they make camp somewhere just down the road a piece. And you did! So here I am to join you. I got my clothes and my cudgel, see?”
“You want to join us? You want to become an adventurer?” asked Betsy, shaking her light brown hair in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”
“Well, people say I’m not entirely right in my head, but they’re wrong. I just don’t think the way they do, I guess. Anyway, I don’t want to be just an adventurer, I want to be a wizard!”
“Wait a minute!” objected Vince. “We have a say in this too, sonny. Don’t you realize that this is very dangerous way of life. We told you we had one of our friends killed just yesterday, and he knew which end of a sword to grab. Do you have any sort of experience with weapons or fighting? I don’t want to take on a rookie who’ll die tomorrow. I’m sorry, Ben, but it’s for your own good.”
“But if you had a friend killed, then you need to replace him,” countered Ben. “And I’m perty good with a sling. I kin hit a rabbit at a hundred yards every time. I’m fast on my feet. I can do all sorts of acrobatic tricks. And I larn fast. Well, not farmin’, but other things. I’ve watched our village smith make iron things, and know how to do that, a little.
“You got a spare horse, and it looks like a spare shield and sword, too. Please? I’ll never be a good farmer, I always mess things up. I got three other older brothers and the farm don’t need me. My ma will know I’ve gone after you, and she won’t mind. I s’pose she will mind, really, but she knows I’m useless around the farm. Please? Perty please?”
“No, absolutely not,” declared Vince.
“Yes, on one condition,” agreed Jenny, whose red hair Ben had admired earlier. “Never ever say ‘pretty please’ again. Is that clear?”
“Oh, thank you, thank you, marvelous lady,” agreed Ben, as he spread a blanket on the ground.
“All right, Jenny, why?” asked Vince. “You know I don’t challenge your decisions any more than you argue with me. But why this kid?”
“I just have a feeling about him. Look, he says he’s a great shot with a sling against rabbits, and we’re broke. He’ll help us eat on the road until we get tired of rabbit stew. We can train him. We’re both good with swords and we trained Ellie to be fairly decent in just three months. Six months more and she was almost as good as Petey. We need a warm body, Vince. Petey is dead now. Ellie left us.
“Six of us against ten was going to be a hard fight. Four of us against no fewer than nine is going to be almost impossible. The six of us have beat ten before, but four of us? We need at least one extra man. Okay, we’re good; so it’s not impossible, but really hard. We give him Petey’s sword and shield and have him stand in the back. He’s not as tall as you or Horace, but he’s not short, either. He can reach between us and poke at people with the sword. Even if he doesn’t hit anyone, he’ll distract them.”
“All right, I guess you’re right, but it bothers me to take on such a young kid when we’re goin’ into a big fight.”
They settled down again to sleep. Vince cuddled with Jenny. Horace cuddled with Betsy. Ben slept with a smile on his face. A bit later Ben awoke to sounds of pleasure from nearby. He was only sixteen, but he knew what those sounds meant. He lay there for a while then got up and crept away.
***
A peal of thunder woke them just before dawn. Vince raised his head, looked up at the cloudy sky, and sighed. At least it’s not raining here, yet.
Jenny got up and stopped, staring at Ben and an attractive young girl, hugging on his blanket. The girl woke up, looked around at the others looking at her, and shrieked. She gathered her clothes, dressed quickly, and ran back toward the village.
“Goodbye,” waved Ben.
“Who was that?” asked Betsy.
“Oh, last night when you were all havin’ fun, I thought I should, too. So I went back to the town and asked her to come back here with me. You were havin’ fun, and we had fun.”
“What’s her name?” asked Jenny.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t git into town very often. I seen her before and knew where she lived, but I don’t know her name. She’s perty, so I just asked her if she wanted to come here with me and have fun. And she did.”
“You don’t know her name, but you just asked her?” asked Vince. “And she said ‘yes’ just like that? Ben, my boy, let me put this to you plainly. I don’t mean to offend you, but you’re not the, um, handsomest of men. Frankly, you look rather goofy. And she just went along with you?”
“They sometimes do. It don’t always work, but sometimes. I look ’em in the eye, and talk to ’em and they start to like me. I’ve been able to talk to girls and have fun with ’em for some time. I think if they want to have fun, and I talk to ’em, they’ll agree. If they don’t want to have fun, they just slap my face. I do git slapped a lot.”
“Unbelievable. Well, Ben, today we’re going to do a lot of hard ridin’. Do you know how to ride a horse?”
“Oh, yes. Every year the village has a festival, with races and contests and pies. I git to ride in the race, every year since I was twelve. I’m sixteen now and I’ve won two races!”
“Good, that’s one less worry for us,” said Vince. “Can I ask the rest of you to cook up some of those sausages for breakfast? I want to give Ben a little basic instruction in how to use a shield.
“All right, Ben, you’re going to use Petey’s sword and shield. It’s all we have and he’s dead now and doesn’t need ’em. You have to learn how to use a shield before you learn sword work. If you can’t stay alive, you won’t have a chance to swing your sword. Hold the shield like this. No, grab the handle this way. Yeah, that’s better. Keep the shield in front of you at all times. Don’t let it flail around. Don’t wave it like a piece of cloth. If it’s not in front of you, it can’t protect you.
“When I swing my sword at you, keep the shield steady. I’m goin’ to swing a few times at the shield just to let you get the feel of it, okay? There, there, there. Very good. You didn’t move it at all. Excellent. Now I’m goin’ to swing at other parts of your body. Don’t worry, I won’t swing hard and hurt you. Just try to move the shield where my sword goes. Don’t swing it! Keep it flat in front of you. Roll your arm and just slide the shield to where the sword is.
“Okay, you need to move it faster. That’s better. Missed again. Pay attention to the sword. Don’t look at me, look at the sword. Better. Again. Again. Very good. You’re learnin’ well, Ben. Time for breakfast. But from now on today when we take a rest break, Jenny and I will teach you how to fight.”
***
A day of hard riding, with only two rest stops, brought them into the hills. Ellie had been a good tracker, but nobody beat Betsy, whose first husband had been a gamekeeper and huntsman.
“The trail still goes up along here,” she stated. “Two groups, but the same ten horses, just like before. You know, I’ve been thinking. Are there ten brigands, or only nine?”
“Well, if the one I wounded has died, there’s only nine,” commented Jenny.
“No, I mean from the start. Think about this. They want to get away fast. If they put the girl on a horse with one of the men, that horse will tire faster. If she’s tied up and thrown onto her own horse, they can run as hard as they want. So, maybe only nine men, eight if your man is dead now.”
“What if they have more friends at their camp up here?” asked Vince. “We won’t know how many we’re going to face until we find their camp. Meanwhile, it’s late. It’s been real cloudy all day, and looks like the rain is finally goin’ to come down. We need shelter for the night. There’s a farm up ahead. Maybe they’ll let us use the barn.”
***
“Use my barn overnight?” said the farmer. “For a moon? Well, I guess so. It’s lookin’ like it’s goin’ to rain hard. I cain’t feed you though.”
“Vince, how do you always manage to git people to do you favors?” asked Horace. “This here guy says we kin sleep in his barn, Ben’s mother sold us food at a good price. Just because you asked. Just like Ben and girls, ha ha ha.”
“I never act like I expect ’em to give me anything. I don’t demand stuff. I don’t insist I should get it. I just ask politely. Hell, Ben’s mother said she was selling us the food because of Jenny and Betsy. It wasn’t me.”
“We’re getting very close now,” mentioned Jenny, joining them. “I was talking to the farmer and his wife. They told me there are bandits farther up in the hills, but only a few miles from here. A red headed guy named Amos leading maybe two dozen more. We have our work cut out for us this time.”
“Two dozen! We’re goin’ to have to have a really, really good plan,” Vince declared. “We need to see where their camp is up there. See if they have guards on it. See if it’s easy to get to or not. We can’t do anything without knowing that. Damn! It’s too late tonight to scout ’em out. Tomorrow, then. We get as close as we can to their camp, look for guards, easy ways to get in and out, and for where the girl might be.
“Ben, thank you for the rabbits. Let’s eat.”
***
The thunderstorm broke halfway through dinner, but the barn was dry, warm from the cattle, and only smelled if you had never been around a farm before. A wide stone foundation supported wide posts that rose to hold up the roof. The rafters were almost as thick and supported a heavily thatched roof. There was room for their horses on one side, and for their blankets on the other.
After some more shield practice from Vince, Ben got some simple instruction from Jenny on how to use his sword. He swung the sword, and his shield flew off to one side. “Practice, keep the shield still, swing only with the sword. Let’s do it again.” Two hours later Ben had broken his bad habits, though the useful good habits were still under development.
“Vince, why did you offer this farmer the moon for using his barn?” asked Ben as they rested. “The moons are up in the sky, you cain’t even see ’em tonight through the rain.”
“A moon is also the name of a coin, Ben,” explained Vince. “Don’t you know anything about money?”
“I know there is money. Pa and ma talk about it sometimes, and my brothers. But they think I’m a little simple, and cain’t understand some things. So what’s a moon? And why?”
“Have we got any left? Thanks, Betsy. This is a moon. It’s a silver coin. People might call it a piece of silver, too. Twenty moons make a sun, which is a gold coin, a little bit larger than this. You won’t see many of ’em unless we hit the jackpot. And a moon is worth twenty mugs, which is a bronze coin like this one. See, it’s a little smaller than a moon.
“We call it a moon because it’s silvery, like the moon. And the gold coin is yellow like the sun. And a mug is the price of a mug of beer. Some people call it a ‘wood’ because it takes on shades of brown like wood as it gets passed around and gets dirty. When they’re newly minted they’re all polished and shiny, almost like a sun, but they don’t stay that way long. So, twenty mugs is a moon, and twenty moons is a sun. Got that?”
“Oh, that’s not so hard. Thank you. Now you have to tell me all about wizards, ’cause I want to be one.”
“I’m sorry, Ben, but there ain’t no such thing as magic, or spells, or wizards. Not any more. There used to be, which is why the old stories are full of ’em. But they disappeared a long time ago. We know they used to exist because we still have some magic items, even today. But no one knows how they were made, or how to make any more.
“Here, look at my knife. Well, it’s our knife. It’s so valuable it belongs to all of us, as a group. Even to you, now that you’ve joined us. It looks like a small ordinary knife. But it’s magical. Take that rabbit skin and try to slice it with your knife. Slow work, huh? Now try my knife. See, it just cuts right through with no effort.
“This knife is a magic knife. It’s always sharp, never gets dull, cuts through clothes, skin, flesh, even leather armor. The blade isn’t very long, so it’s not much good in a fight. And it won’t cut through metal armor. But it’s great for skinning game, shaving pieces of wood for starting a fire, or takin’ on a thug in a dark alley when your sword is back at the inn.
“I took this from a dead brigand years ago. It’s worth a lot of money, but I’ve never been so broke I ever thought about selling it. You can buy an ordinary knife like this for only two or three moons anywhere you go. This one is worth maybe a hundred moons, because it’s always sharp. Some wizard created this ages ago, and now it’s unique. No one else can make another. There may be other magic knives or even swords. But only the rich and powerful will have ’em now. If anyone could make a magic sword now, he could sell ’em as fast as he could make ’em and retire rich beyond his wildest dreams.”
“No, he couldn’t,” Betsy corrected him. “Once he told the world what he could do, every tough brigand, every rich and powerful man, every man who wanted to become rich and powerful would try to force him to make for them only. Or they’d kill him so he couldn’t make any more, once he had made one for them.”
“Don’t worry about it none, Ben,” comforted Horace. “Those old wizards used books of spells that disappeared with ’em. And Ah’ve heard they was written in some ancient language that no one knows nowadays. It’s a shame you cain’t have your wish, but adventuring is still fun.”
“Time to get some sleep, guys,” announced Jenny. “We need to get out first thing in the morning, even if it’s still raining. Rain may even make it easier to sneak up on them. Goodnight.”
***
The cows woke them this morning, lowing loudly to be milked. That and the startled expression from the pretty girl under Ben’s blanket. She, too, jumped up and ran out red-faced.
“Goodbye,” waved Ben.
“Where’d you find her?” asked Horace.
“She’s the farmer’s daughter. I saw her last night bringing some firewood in. I looked into her eyes and just asked her if she’d like to have some fun, and she did.”
“Well, I hope her father doesn’t find out,” sighed Jenny. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about you, Ben. We might need to spend another night here, and I don’t want him mad at us.”
Leftover rabbit stew mixed into some porridge made a decent enough breakfast. The rain was still falling, but the hard part of the storm had ended hours earlier. The rain had washed away any hope of finding the kidnapper’s trail, but the farmer had told Jenny roughly where their camp was.
Brown water slid down the muddy remains of the path. The uphill slope was not steep and the horses could manage the wet climb. Vince, leading the way, spotted the guard. He was crouched under a tree, trying without success to stay dry. His shield was over his head, and blocked his view down the trail.
Vince stopped and waved the others back.
“There’s a guy on watch just ahead of us,” he whispered. “He’s hidin’ from the rain beneath his shield and didn’t see me. But if we get closer, he’s bound to see or hear us. We could take him out now, but it’s still early in the day. If they send out a replacement for him, that guy will sound the alarm when he finds the first guy dead.
“Let’s leave the horses here and go forward on foot. I think we can find a way around the watchman and get closer to the camp. Ben, I want you to stay here with the horses. Someone has to watch ’em, and keep ’em quiet. I don’t mean to insult you with this job, but you are the least experienced of us. All right? Okay, let’s go.”
The four moved quietly through the brush along the trail. Vince led them more and more to the left of the trail and they passed behind the unaware guard. They didn’t have to worry about dry twigs breaking under their feet, but there was a risk of slipping on wet leaves or mud and falling loudly. Nothing happened, and they kept on up the hill.
The top was a hundred yards from where Ben was waiting with their horses. They saw a small valley, almost a bowl in the hills. It wasn’t very long or wide and a small creek, now full, poured the rain down another slope on the far side. In the middle were several cabins and one large house. A barn stood at the back of the valley, beyond the dwellings. A corral full of horses stood beside the barn. Some fruit trees grew in a tiny orchard along the creek. There was no other sign of agriculture about.
As they watched, they saw two men leave the large house and a red-headed man standing in the doorway, pointing to something. The men went off to one side, picked something up, and brought it to the house. The redhead opened the door again and they went in.
“Well, that’s gotta be Amos,” guessed Horace. “And since he’s there, and it’s the biggest building, that’s gotta be where the girl is.”
“Most likely,” admitted Betsy. “But we’ve been wrong about that before. We have to be sure this time. If we raid the wrong house, we’ll just alert all of them.”
“Let’s just sit here and think for a bit,” advised Vince. “We can see the place now, and know what is where. Let’s start making a plan for tonight. One guard on the trail. He’s easy to take out later.”
“Once we get back to this spot, uh, maybe sneak around to get at the house from the side?” suggested Betsy.
“I don’t want to get too close to any building but the house,” said Vince. “Straight across from here will work, and straight back. If the only watchman is the one below, no one will see us.”
“Fine with me, bold as always,” agreed Jenny. “But that house is big enough to have several rooms. How do we find the girl when we get in?”
“Bold works here too, Ah reckon,” kidded Horace with a joking grin. “We go into every room and cut every ugly throat. The girl, having a perty throat, is spared and comes with us. Seriously, if we work quickly and don’t let nobody shout out, we kin kill ’em, git the girl, and git away.”
“And Ben comes with us,” added Vince. “We can take out the guard on the trail, tie the horses to trees, and then Ben is available to help us. We said we needed another warm body for this job, so we can’t leave him out. While we’re busy fightin’ the thugs, he can be rushing the girl down to the horses. Once she’s out of the house, we can follow behind.
“Much as I’d like to, we don’t really have to kill all of ’em, as long as we have her. If there are two dozen of ’em, it’s goin’ to be hard to kill ’em all, just the four of us. It’ll make the job a lot easier.”
“Cut and run?” Jenny answered. “Considering their numbers, that’s a good plan, a much safer way to do this. Let’s go back to Ben and tell him his part.”
“What about her horse?” asked Betsy when they reached the bottom of the hill. “The girl needs a horse too. I figured the kidnappers threw her over a spare horse to let them ride faster. We need to ride fast just as much.”
“Their horses are in that corral by the barn,” Jenny pointed out as they rode back down the trail. “We’ll have to go close to the cabins to get one. Do we have time to saddle a horse? Where are their saddles? Doesn’t matter, someone can go bareback.”
“I kin ride bareback,” volunteered Ben. “My folks didn’t want me fallin’ off a horse so they wouldn’t let me ride, but I used to practice bareback just the same. They let me into the races after they saw me ridin’ one day.”
“Thank you, Ben. Should we turn out the rest of the horses while we’re at it? Just to make pursuit harder for them.”
“Nice finishing touch, Jenny dear,” agreed Vince. “I’m fastest. I’ll open the corral up, grab a horse and give it to Ben. Ben, bring the horse with you to the big house up there. The others will be goin’ into it by the time you get there. When we bring the girl down, you lead her out, get on the horse, and ride down here. And leave her alone, Ben. No having fun.”
“I’m not stupid!” shouted Ben. “I know we got to git her home safe and sound, and that means still a virgin. People think I’m not bright ‘cause I’m funny lookin’, and don’t talk the way they do, and maybe don’t think the way they do either. But I know what’s what. Her father won’t pay us if somebody jumped on her. I know that. Trust me. I know havin’ fun isn’t fun if she’s forced.”
“Okay, Ben. I’m sorry. I don’t know you very well yet, and I misjudged you. I apologize. You’re hard to figure out, you know. Okay, back to the plan. I’ll shoo the other horses out as best I can in a hurry and then run to join the rest of you. We go in and look for the girl. She’s probably in a room by herself, or maybe with Amos. Most brigands can’t be trusted not to jump on a young girl, even one they want to ransom.
“When we get the girl out and hand her over to Ben, we fight a rear guard action to cover their escape, and follow ’em down the hill. We get on our horses, and ride as fast as we can. Now let’s get farther down this hill and wait for night. It’s still just mid-morning and we have a long wait.”
***
The farmer hadn’t noticed his daughter’s absence during the night and was willing to take another moon for another night. They told him they wouldn’t be there in the morning. While the others rested, Ben spent the hours looking for rabbits in the rain. He eventually came back with two and watched Vince use his amazingly sharp knife to skin and dress them in no time at all. Ben was fascinated once again at seeing real magic being used.
Dinner was done, and so was the rain. The night was still very overcast, the trail was still very muddy, and the leaves dripped all over them as they made their way up the hill. The sound of dripping water would help to cover their movements. They reached the spot where they left Ben and the horses earlier and dismounted. This time they tied the bridles to branches and Betsy snuck closer to where the watcher had been in the morning.
She could just barely make out a shape in the darkness. She strung her bow, nocked an arrow, pushed her light brown hair back from her eyes, and tried to focus on the dim, shadowy figure. She took a deep breath, held it while she aimed, and released the arrow. It hit with a solid “thump” and the man fell over, quietly.
Jenny ran up to the man and cut his throat. If he was still alive, she didn’t want him crying out, and she didn’t want him bleeding to death slowly in pain. Vince led the rest of his crew up the hill past them. At the top Vince showed Ben the house and the corral.
“Come with me to the corral and I’ll give you a horse. Take it to the house. Mount up and wait for one of us to bring the girl out to you. Pull her up and ride down to our horses. Got that?”
“I should go in and bring the girl out,” countered Ben. “If you gotta fight the bandits, you may have trouble gittin’ her out. If I ain’t s’posed to be fightin’, I kin take her and run. It don’t take long to hop on a horse.”
“You sure, Ben? You haven’t been in a fight yet. It might scare you.”
“I chased off a wolf one time while watchin’ the sheep. I don’t frighten easily.”
“Then let’s do this, people! Go now!”
Vince and Ben raced to the corral and pulled a long stretch of the rail fence down. Ben took a good looking horse and rode it over to the house. The others were still standing by the door, unable to get in. Vince spooked the horses and some ran off into the woods, others just ran out of the corral. Vince didn’t worry about that and ran up to the house.
The house was two stories tall, the bottom level built of field stone, the upper floor being half-timbered. It had a slightly elegant appearance, which seemed out of place for its location and its occupants. The roof was slate, also unusual for a farmhouse.
“What’s the problem?” he whispered. “Why ain’t you inside?”
“The door’s locked,” grumbled Betsy. “What kind of brigands are these that don’t trust their neighbors, going around locking their doors like honest people? We could try to break it down with Horace’s axe but that would make a lot of noise. I want to pick the lock but it’s too dark out here.”
“Try anyway,” Vince urged. “We don’t want to waste time, but we also don’t want to wake ’em up.”
“I can’t see anything. I need some light to work by. Oh, thanks, that’s just enough,” Betsy said as a small flame cast a bit of light on the keyhole. “There, unlocked. Thank you, Ben. Where did you get that light?”
She turned and looked at Ben. Vince was staring at Ben. So were Jenny and Horace. Betsy gasped as she saw Ben, a small yellow flame burning at the end of his stubby right index finger.
“How? How do you do that?” asked Vince in bewilderment. “No, tell me later. The door is open. Inside, everyone. Find that girl. Ben, can you keep that light on?”
“Yeah, will it help inside?”
“Oh, yes, Ben, yes. Let’s find that girl quickly. Betsy try that door, Jenny and Horace upstairs. Ben, light the way for ’em.”
Vince tried another door on the ground floor of the house. Three men slept inside a moderate sized room, snoring but not stirring. Kill ’em now while I can? No, I can’t kill sleeping men, even kidnapping brigands. Rescue first, kill later. Betsy came out of the other room alone. She signaled “Three, sleeping” and looked at the stairs.
The stairs went up in the middle of the open floor and Horace had gone up first, with Ben right behind him, his lit finger thrust ahead to light their way. When they reached the upper landing they found themselves in a large room that filled the upper floor. Four men slept near the stairs, two more slept behind some tables, and a small figure was on the floor beyond them.
Jenny sped through the room, carefully threading her way through the sleepers, heading toward the small figure in the back. One of the men on the floor shifted his position, but didn’t waken.
“Follow me, Ben,” she hissed in a loud whisper.
Ben came with her, holding his finger aloft, the flame burning brighter to show the room more clearly. Jenny reached the small figure at the back of the room, shook it, and said, “We’re here to rescue you. Don’t be afraid. Ben, get her out, quickly!”
Ben took the girl by the hand, helped her stand up, and dragged her to the stairs.
“Don’t worry, miss, I’m not a great fighter like Scarnigaro yet, but I’ll protect you from these bad men.”
He raced down the stairs, leading the young girl, her long blonde hair streaming behind her as she ran. He ran out the door, jumped onto the horse, and pulled the girl up. Once she was settled behind him, he jabbed his heels into the horse’s sides and rode off into the night.
Noise was now coming down from the upper floor. The sharp cries of a man in great pain, the clang of weapon against weapon, someone calling for others to awaken. Horace jumped down the last five steps with a thud while Jenny knocked a sword from someone’s hand and backed down.
The men in the room behind Vince were making confused sounds, waking up to an unexpected fight. Vince and Betsy moved next to the others and the four started backing out of the open door. A man from the ground floor room rushed up and was skewered by Jenny’s sword. As she stepped outside, Horace swung his big axe and cut a brigand almost in half.
Outside, they turned and ran for their horses, below the crest of the hill. Ben had already gotten the girl onto his saddled horse, and remounted the bareback mount. Ben had untied the other horses and the girl was holding their reins. He was swinging his sling over his head as the others came down the slope. With a quick flick he released a stone and someone at the top of the hill hollered in pain.
Everyone mounted up and they rode off into the wet darkness, past the farmhouse, down the long slope to the distant plain. They rode without stopping for hours, then reined up. Their horses were tired and so were they. There was no shelter here, but they could stop and rest at least.
“I remember this bit of ground from our trip up,” recalled Vince. “These trees make a distinctive grouping. I think I also remember a small hut way off the road right behind ’em. We can rest in the hut, and the horses can rest outside behind it. There it is. Let’s go in; we’ll all be hidden by the trees if anyone is following us.”
“What is this hut?” asked Betsy.
“It’s a shielin’, a hut for shepherds,” Ben explained. “It’s early in the year and the shepherd don’t seem to have brought his sheep out yet. But it should be dry.”
***
The shieling was just a small. low stone hut, with a small window, closed off with an old, ill-fitting wooden shutter. Some early morning light filtered through the space around the shutter and fell on the six people collapsed on the floor. There was a short cot, now occupied by the kidnapped girl. Vince and Jenny slept on the floor next to the bed. Horace and Betsy had the floor by the cabin door. Ben had curled up in his blanket in the cold fireplace, dirty but the last space available.
Vince was the first to wake up. He groaned and stretched as he got to his feet, rubbing a cramped shoulder. He looked around and decided that Ben had to be the next up, since breakfast was going to need the fireplace. The sound of his moving and Ben’s getting up woke up the others. Vince looked at the young girl on the cot.
“Good morning, young lady,” he addressed her suavely. “We came to rescue you, on behalf of your father. How are you feeling? Did the brigands who kidnapped you hurt you in any way? Wait. Wait. More important, what’s your name? Your father never mentioned it.”
“He did, but you were too busy selling him on our superior talents to pay attention,” laughed Betsy. “She’s Pollyanna. You missed his name, too, I’ll bet. It’s Barnabas.”
“Yes, I’m Pollyanna. Well, actually, I prefer just Polly, if that’s all right with you,” she corrected herself diffidently. “My father wanted the more elaborate, prestigious name, more like a proper merchant name. My mother came from a lesser merchant family and thought it was too pretentious. She just called me Polly, and, well, that’s what I like.
“Thank you for coming to save me. I was awfully scared the whole time. Some of those men wanted to, um, to jump on me, but the red haired man wouldn’t let them. He said I was worth a lot more untouched. I guess I should be grateful for that, but I wouldn’t have been in danger if he hadn’t kidnapped me in the first place. But thank you all ever so much for rescuing me. I hope my father is going to pay you a big reward.”
“Well, so do we,” admitted Horace. “We’re adventurers, rogues your father called us, and live by claiming big rewards. Naw, we’da done it anyway ‘cause we don’t like thugs who kidnap people. Especially young girls.”
“Ben, brush the ashes out of your blanket and put some wood into that fireplace,” ordered Jenny. “We need to have something to eat before we start out back to Grangus.”
Ben went outside and shook out his blanket. When he came back in he took some kindling from a box by the hearth and put his finger to it. A small flame at the end of his finger started a small flame on the kindling. Everyone watched again, mouths open, wordless.
“Ben, my God, how do you do that?” asked Vince finally. “How can you have fire on your finger? Doesn’t it hurt? Isn’t it burning you?”
“What? Oh no, I do this all the time. I started doin’ it a couple of years ago so I could light my way to the outhouse in the dark. But it works for startin’ the fire in the mornin’ for breakfast. I got to be careful though. Ma thinks it makes me weird. She’s afraid someone might see me and want to lock me up as a freak, or somethin’.”
“But your finger’s on fire! How can that not hurt?” asked Betsy.
“The finger doesn’t feel hot at all. If I put my other hand to the flame, yeah, it’s hot. But the finger doesn’t feel it. You needed some light last night to unlock that door, so I gave you some. What’s the big deal?”
“Ben, people can’t do that sort of thing,” Jenny pointed out gently. “No one can. Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re a freak. It’s just that.… Oh, my God, Vince! What if he can? I think he may be what he wants to be. Maybe he can do magic!”
“Come on, Jenny!” objected Horace. “No one kin do magic anymore. We all know this. Vince told the kid this the other day. How could this farm boy learn magic?”
“How did you hit that brigand last night in the dark?” asked Vince. “There was only a dim shadowy shape against the dark sky. No light, not even your finger any longer. Just a dark spot on a dark background, and you hit him smack in the head. How?”
“Same way I get rabbits. I wasn’t sure it was gonna work, ‘cause I’ve never tried to hit a person before. But I took the sling stone and just thought about it hittin’ him in the head, same as I do for rabbits. And when I flung the stone, it hit him.”
“Jenny, I can’t believe this,” Vince said in amazement. “You’re right. I really think you are absolutely right about Ben. He can do magic. He doesn’t realize it himself, but it’s got to be magic. He’s a goofy lookin’ kid who just talks to girls and they sleep with him. He thinks about a stone hittin’ a rabbit, or a man, in the head, and it does. He thinks about a flame on the tip of his finger, and he has one. Ben, you wanted to be a wizard. You are one. I’m lost for words.”
“No. How kin I be a wizard? I don’t know any magic spells. I cain’t turn someone into a toad. I cain’t call up a big pile of gold from nothin’ like the wizards in the stories. I hit the rabbits because I practice a lot. What else does a shepherd got to do with his time? You cain’t make a flame on your finger? Have you tried? Come on, Vince! Do you mean to say that you couldn’t talk to a perty lady and get her into bed?”
“Jenny wouldn’t like it, but yes, I could. But I’m better lookin’ than you are, meaning no offense. And practice with a sling doesn’t let you hit practically invisible targets. And, most importantly, absolutely, positively no one can light a flame on his finger. NO ONE! Ben, that’s got to be magic. And I’m so happy for you.”
“But a real wizard should be like Rupaldo, with books of spells, and incantations, and wonderful elixirs and potions. He should be able to make people fly through the air, or run faster than any horse, or fight all day without gettin’ tired. He should be able to touch a wound and heal it immediately. I cain’t do anythin’ like that. I cain’t even make a sharp knife like you have, Vince.”
“Ben, you’re young,” countered Jenny. “Do you think Rupaldo could do all of his wonders when he first started? Becoming really good at something takes time and practice. It took me years to become as good as I am with a sword. Maybe this is what I saw in you when I told Vince to bring you with us.”
“Ben, I’m as dumbfounded as the others,” admitted Betsy. “But I want to give you some advice. Remember what I said the other day. If people know you can do magic, even a little bit of magic, they will try to force you to do it for them. They will try to force you to make gold for them, or powerful weapons, or anything. Be very careful who learns what you can do.”
“I think these sausages are ready to eat,” announced Polly, who had been turning the sausages over and over on the edge of the fire while the others talked.
***
They rode just inside the edge of the woods, keeping even with the road, but staying out of sight. They hadn’t seen any horse tracks in the mud this morning, but they didn’t know if the brigands might not follow them after dawn. They rode slowly because the trees kept them from making any speed. They didn’t care. The trees gave them protection, and the road was too muddy for speed anyway. As they rode, they talked.
“I always thought adventurers and rogues were all men,” wondered Polly. “There weren’t any women at the brigands’ camp. My father told us stories of bandits attacking his caravans, and the bandits are always men. So how come you’ve got two women.”
“Most bands of adventurers are men,” agreed Vince. “Adventurers, rogues, all the same thing. We call ourselves ‘adventurers’ to strangers when we’re tryin’ to get hired for some dangerous work. But in private, because it’s shorter, we’re ‘rogues.’
“There are all kinds of people who think of themselves as adventurers, from Wanderers at the low end, to brigands at the nasty bad end. Some are just simple treasure hunters, lookin’ for money people buried sometime in the past. Some look for old treasures, some for money people buried last week. Some commit crimes all the time, like bandits and brigands. Some don’t, or not very often.
“The first several gangs I was in were all men. Men are more aggressive, tougher, less likely to spare someone. But women can be just as bad if they want. Mostly, no leader thinks about recruiting women into his band. Not very clever, I think.
“I noticed early on that all the guys were gettin’ frustrated from a lack of female company. We might stop in a town and visit the Temple of Love, or free-lance fancy women, but it was never often enough. Guys would get angry over the slightest thing and start fightin’ among themselves. Ten men in a gang would become eight, then seven or six, without fightin’ anyone but themselves.
“I was in one gang, though, that changed my life, my whole approach to adventuring. We had kidnapped a young girl, younger even than you, rich father, big ransom, lots of money for all of us. I’ll spare you the details, but it went very wrong. She ended up dead.
“I gave up on regular gangs because of that. I wandered alone for a long time, consumed by guilt. I hadn’t intended that she should be harmed in any way. But I had gladly helped kidnap her, and because of that she was dead. I’ve tried to atone for that, and rescuing you is part of that. I kept away from gangs, worked on caravans, went after bandits on my own sometimes. I mostly just wandered, and sometime later I met Jenny.”
“My father had helped train guards and warriors for Baron Kipelsky and he taught me too,” continued Jenny. “I became as good with a sword as most of the baron’s men at arms. Didn’t mean anything, they weren’t going to hire me, a woman, as a trainer. Father died in a battle, and I was on my own. I decided to try adventuring as a way to make some money. I met up with Vince and we hit it off, romantically and professionally.”
“I was happy with Jenny, and realized for the first time why all those other gangs hadn’t worked out. We needed companionship, which we could get from guys, but we also needed what Ben calls fun. We needed women for that and never had any. A few months later Jenny and I ran into Horace who had run off with Betsy. We’ve been together and succeeding as rogues for years now.”
“Yeah, run off with Betsy, that’s good,” laughed Horace. “Ah was asked to execute her and instead of cutting off her head, Ah killed the baron who sentenced her. And, boy!, did we run after that. Her father was an archer, so she knew how to use a bow. Couldn’t tell which end of a sword to grab, but she’s perty good with one now. Vince is right. All the other bands of rogues Ah’ve ever seen were full of quarrelsome guys, always looking for a fight. Life’s much quieter now.”
“So where’s your girl, Ben?” asked Polly shyly.
“Ben just joined us on the way to rescue you,” explained Betsy. “Six of us left Grangus to find you but we lost Petey the first night in an ambush. His wife Ellie was only with us because of him and she left in the morning. Ben showed up the next evening. We were desperate for someone else to help. I’m glad, Ben, that we brought you along.”
“Amos’s men were complaining about not making any money for months” Polly revealed. “They really wanted the ransom badly. So do you make a lot of money as adventurers? I’ve never known people like you or Amos in my life. Jenny and Betsy are almost as nice to me as my mother was, but they’re also so tough and feisty. It’s so strange, like a whole new world I’m learning about.”
“Barnabas promised us a thousand moons if we could bring you home safe and sound,” answered Vince. “That’s more than we’ve made in the last three months. We’ve had a bad stretch, too. Normally we do better than that. We’ve gotten a lot farther north of our usual stompin’ grounds. Down south there are more towns. Towns attract bandits and brigands, and towns reward people who rid ’em of bandits and brigands. We need to move south again.”
“A thousand moons,” mused Polly, thinking about the sum. “I guess that’s a lot to you. Father makes a lot more than that on one good caravan trip though. Maybe he doesn’t have more on hand now. He sometimes sends a lot of money under guard to some other town to buy goods.”
“Maybe it’s all he had, maybe he’s being cheap,” commented Jenny. “But we’ll settle for the thousand moons. We agreed to that reward, and we stick to our deals.”
“Hush,” hissed Betsy, riding closest to the road. “I hear horses coming, moving fast.”
They faded a little deeper into the forest and watched through the branches as a large party of armed men galloped along the grassy verge of the sodden road. They counted the riders, and assumed Amos was leading what was left of his band out to recapture Polly and get revenge.
“Good thing we didn’t stay to fight it out with ’em,” observed Horace. “We mighta killed or severely injured five or six of ’em, but it looks like maybe eighteen still active. They woulda slaughtered us. Ah hate to run from a good fight, but if the odds ain’t good, ain’t no point in staying.”
“Since they’re now ahead of us, let’s move out of the woods,” suggested Jenny. “We can make better time if we aren’t dodging trees. They messed up the grass on this side of the road, but the other side should be fine for us.”
***
By evening they had reached the campsite where Ben had joined them a couple of days earlier. Horace found signs of a large number of horses moving quickly beyond this point. He followed them until he was beyond Ben’s farm. The tracks kept going. Horace uttered a prayer of thanks for not being seen by Ben’s mother and hurried back to the others.
They found a cape for Polly to sleep on and made a big fire since her kidnappers were already well past them. Ben found some more rabbits and they had a filling meal.
“We should be back in Grangus tomorrow by noon, maybe a little later,” Vince disclosed. “Ben, you have a decision to make. Your parents’ farm is up ahead. Do you want to go home, or stay with us? I won’t force you to go home. I won’t insist you stay with us. We all like you. To be honest about it, we all want to use your magic abilities. But if you feel the charm has worn off the adventurin’ life, we’ll understand. But you have to decide for yourself.”
“I love my parents, my family, everyone in and around Tindle. But they don’t always treat me the way you have. You’re not my family, but you’re better in some ways. You accept my weirdness. I like bein’ with all of you.”
In the morning they raced past the house Ben had been born and raised in, but no one saw them. They stopped to rest at Petey’s grave and Polly was surprised to see these tough rogues wiping away tears for their friend. As they approached Grangus, Vince and Horace rode ahead, looking in all directions for signs of Amos and his men.
They saw no sign of them and then the walls of Grangus appeared two miles away. They waved the others forward and the entire band galloped to the open gate. Half a mile from the town a cry from their left made them turn their heads to see Amos and his gang rushing from behind a copse of trees. Jenny urged them to ride faster and they didn’t slack off until they were all inside.
“Those men are the kidnappers!” shouted Polly to the guards at the gate, pointing over her shoulder. The watchmen looked at the tough looking men racing toward the town and shut the gate in their faces. Amos and his men reined in their horses and turned back on their trail.
Once Vince and his friends were safely inside they slowed down to a walk and Polly directed them to her house. The street was partly filled with people going on errands to and from the market. The thin crowds parted easily for their horses. Few people took any notice of them. Then one man looked up at the young girl surrounded by a bunch of ragtag bodyguards.
“It’s Pollyanna! She’s back! She’s been rescued!”
They were now in front of Polly’s house, and people began to pour out of every building. The small groups in the market swelled to throngs as the news spread that Polly had been saved.
“Pollyanna! Pollyanna! Pollyanna! Pollyanna!” the crowd cried out her name in celebration of her return.
Vince dismounted and helped Polly down from her horse. He approached the door of the house as it opened and Barnabas came out.
“Pollyanna, my dearest daughter!” he shouted in glee. “You are back and safe! I am so happy! I can hardly believe it. I have prayed day and night for your safe return. And you, um, you rescuers. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Let us go inside and celebrate, Pollyanna.”
“There is the matter of the reward, sir,” Vince reminded him sternly. “You promised us one thousand moons if we returned your daughter safe and sound. We’ve kept our part of the bargain. We expect you to honor your part as well.”
“Oh, well, I may have said something rash in a panicky moment,” said Barnabas. “But really, give so much money to people like you? Really! My daughter is now here, and safe. I see no reason to give you anything now that I have her. Go away now. I warn you I have considerable influence in this town.”
He turned on his heel, went inside, and slammed the door shut. The street was quiet. The adventurers stared at the door in shock and bewilderment. The townsfolk looked on in disgust that one of their richest citizens should break his promise and cheat these strangers. Vince remounted his horse, and led his team through the town to the south gate and beyond. They found a place to camp and collapsed in despair. They were broke and had no prospects of getting any money for the road south.