Betrayal in the Highlands (20 page)

And where are you going to go after that?

Maybe Eryn Minor. Maybe I can go back to Dardenello and get aboard a ship headed for the other side of the continent or to some unexplored island where nobody would look for me. Edith and Kravel couldn’t find me on a ship.

For a moment Edmund felt hopeful. Then he thought of Pond again. Pond would look for him until his dying day.

“I’ve never had a lick of trouble with him.” The corral owner scratched the horse’s muscular shoulder. “I’ll even throw in the gear if you take him right now. And if you’re interested, I’ll take that dog of yours in trade. Looks like a fierce guard dog. Kind of wolf-like.”

“She’s not for sale,” Edmund replied, examining the horse’s legs. He had no idea what to look for but didn’t want to seem too overeager. He’d left his room without his pack or any belongings; all he had was his sword and a handful of coins.

Are you sure leaving alone is the best option?

I won’t be alone.

He petted Becky’s head. Since Edith had stormed out of the inn, she seemed spoiling for a fight.

Edmund fished into his pocket and pulled out his pouch.

So this is it? You’re just going to leave Pond and Fatty?

If I don’t, they’ll be in danger because of me.

He handed the corral owner some coins.

Are you really going to kill Norb? He was a friend. You grew up with him.

I have no choice.

The corral owner counted the coins, pleased. “A pleasure doing business with you. And if you ever change your mind about that dog of yours, let me know. I could use something as ferocious-looking as her. She’d make the ne’er-do-wells think twice before they steal a horse of mine!”

Edmund climbed into the worn saddle. Becky danced around the horse’s hooves.

“What’s the quickest way to get to the northerly roads?” he asked.

“Just follow the lower road here”—the corral owner pointed up a path through the trees—“it’ll—”

“Thanks!”

Digging into the horse’s sides with his heels, Edmund drove his mount up the path. Becky charged alongside him, her pink tongue hanging out.

Are you sure this is wise?

Edmund reached the ridge halfway up the valley. There, his path intersected with one of Long Ravine’s main avenues. He turned his horse in the direction the corral owner had indicated and again dug his heels into the beast’s ribs. It whinnied, putting on a burst of speed. Becky bolted after him.

This is idiotic! You have no provisions! You have no food!

I can make food.

They shot up the road, nearly trampling a group of shoppers strolling from store to store. Somebody shouted for Edmund to slow down.

You’re making a mistake. What about Pond? What about Fatty?

They’re better off without me.

Tree trunks flanking the road flashed by in the golden light of overhead lanterns. He kicked harder, the horse’s head rocking faster as its hooves pounded the stone road. Becky strained to keep pace. Up ahead, the canyon walls narrowed. Edmund thundered up the incline.

Think about Pond! How’s he going to feel when you just never come back?

Five men stood outside a guardhouse, enjoying the evening. They were well-armed, but Edmund knew they wouldn’t stop him. People could storm out of the city anytime they wished; people trying to enter had to answer questions.

Far behind, Becky barked, but Edmund drove his horse on.

This is madness. Think about Pond!

I am thinking of Pond! He’s safer without me. They both are. I’m the one everybody wants. Nobody will bother with Pond and Fatty if I’m not around.

One of the guards leapt out of the way, shouting, as Edmund flew past. Wind from his horse kicked up swirling clouds of dust in its wake.

The road began to climb up and up toward the shimmering stars, up and out of the gorge to the lip of the lands above. Further behind him, Becky barked again. Edmund was alone and leaving the city.

What if Kravel and Gurding capture Pond?

Edmund straightened as he bounced in the saddle.

Would you try to save him?

Of course he would. He’d give his life for Pond. For Fatty as well.

Don’t you think Kravel and Gurding would know that? Or Edith and whoever her ‘friends’ are?

Edmund stopped driving his heels into his mount’s ribs, and the brown horse slowed as they approached the lip of the forested lands above the ravine. Becky’s frantic barks had been all but swallowed up by the roar of the river somewhere in the darkness behind him.

There’s safety in numbers.

He’s in danger if he’s near me.

He’s in danger with or without you. Go back. Go back now before he starts searching for you. He’s the only family you have.

The horse began to trot, then walk, and then finally come to a stop, blowing hard.

Edmund bent over the pommel of the saddle, his heart pounding as if he himself had run all the way from the city. He began to weep.

Pond’s going to die because of me! I know it! I know it more than anything. Everybody’ll die because of me, just like they did in Rood!

He’ll die sooner without you.

His sweaty horse snorted and stamped.

If I go back, it’ll be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.

It’s the smartest thing you can do.

I’d just be going back because I need him.

And he needs you
.

Edmund envisioned his parents sitting next to one other, holding hands and laughing by the fireplace as they playfully debated some piece of trivia.

He sobbed even louder, dragging his sleeve across his tear-filled eye.

Why can’t I have what they had? Just a simple life with somebody who loves me.

You can! Just end all of this. Get to Norb and make him keep his damned mouth shut. Then deal with Edith and her friends. They’ll never know you have Iliandor’s secret. Then all you’ll have to hide from are—

Something moved in the overgrown woods to his right—something big. Edmund swung his horse toward it. A soft voice spoke.

“Hello, Edmund.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The pounding of his heart taking a greater sense of urgency, Edmund swept out his sword, its blade ringing in the night air.

Hidden within the trees to his right, a sleek black horse shifted, its short rider heavily cloaked in robes of brownish-green. Even though the stars and the moon were bright, Edmund could see little more than a shadowy outline of the figure.

“Back!” he shouted, steadying his sword while his horse stamped and turned underneath him. “Back! You’ll never take me alive, Kravel! Never!”

There was a sound of running coming up the road.

“Kravel?” the figure repeated.

It wasn’t a goblin voice.

Edmund’s throat went dry.

“Edith?”

He wasn’t sure who scared him more—the assistant librarian or the goblin. At least he could kill Kravel without remorse.

The rider spurred its horse toward the road.

Edmund jabbed his sword in front of him.

“Back!” he repeated. “I’ll … I’ll kill you! I will!”

Soft starlight fell on the face beneath the oversized hood.

“Are you always so dramatic?”

Edmund would have shouted had he been able to breathe.

“So,” Abby said as Becky came charging up the slope, “where’re we headed?”

Overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, Edmund stumbled over fragments of words. Then he lowered his sword, mouth flopping open. Becky collapsed in the middle of road, panting.

“H-h-h … how … how—?”

“How did I find you?” Abby shrugged in feigned nonchalance. “I knew you would leave as soon as I left, despite what you’d promised me. You’re a man, and all men are liars. I also knew you were coming to Long Ravine. Didn’t I say listening before you enter a room has its advantages?”

Edmund stared at her helplessly.

“When I saw you haggling with the horse seller by the river,” she went on, “I had a boy fetch my horse. I figured you’d head north since you came from the south, not wanting to retrace ground you’d already covered. So I came here and waited.”

Damn, she’s smart.

Maybe you’re just that predictable. Maybe that’s how Edith knew where you were.

Edith
…

“H-h … how?”

“How what?”

Abby checked her horse next to his. She was so close; he could reach out and touch her … if he were able to overcome his shock. Edmund forced himself to inhale. She smelled like Lily of the Valley again. He stank of swamp.

She’s beautiful. Even with her hair pulled back like that she’s—

He blushed and turned away, noticing she was still smiling at him. He fumbled with his reins.

“Look, Abby—”

“I’m not going back to Dardenello,” she said flatly.

“I … I …”

He didn’t want to say it, but it came out anyway.

“I don’t think I want you to go back.”

Abby’s eyebrow arched. “Another lie?”

Edmund shook his head. He considered Becky as she lay in the dirt; she was as exhausted as he was.

“Look, Abby …” He sighed again, wrestled to find the right words. “There are … there are people,” he explained, “people who want to … well, that is, they want to—”

“Kill you?” Abby offered matter-of-factly.

Edmund lifted his head, stunned that a young woman could say such a thing without any hint of discomfort.

“I saw them enter your suite at the Baroness’s estate,” she said, “right after you and your friends staggered off through the fields. What was wrong with Fatty and Mr. Pond, by the way? They weren’t drunk, were they? If they’re going to be coming with us, they’d better not—”

“What do you mean, you ‘saw them’?” Edmund interrupted.

You’re standing alone outside of the city
…

“I saw them.” She shrugged. “Two short men entered your suite. I was—”

“What did they look like? These two men, what did they look like? Were they humans?”

The guards are a mile or more away
…

“Of course. What else would they—?” Excitement flared in her eyes. “Could they have been goblins? Actual goblins? I should’ve gotten a better look at them! Oh, darn it all!”

Get out of here. Get back to the city. Now!

Edmund turned his horse toward Long Ravine. Becky leapt to her feet. “We can’t stay here. We need to get back to Pond and Fatty.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain everything, but you have to trust me. I was s-s-stupid for coming out here alone. We have to get to safety.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

“So what’re you going to do?” Abby asked as she, Edmund, and Becky hurried down the dimly lit hallway to Edmund’s room.

It was nearly ten o’clock in the evening and although they hadn’t seen any sign of goblins or Edith as they fled back to the city, a grave sense of foreboding was building in the pit of Edmund’s stomach.

“I don’t know.” He opened the door to his room. “But we—”

“Where the hell have you been?” Pond shouted. Storming at Edmund, he noted Abby with some surprise, but his anger didn’t subside. “We were looking all over this blasted city for you! We heard you bought a horse and raced out of town!”

Even Fatty appeared genuinely upset; he glowered at Edmund, flabby arms folded across the top of his stomach.

“I’m, I’m … I’m sorry, Pond,” Edmund said.

Abby hung her cloak by the door. “I stopped him.”

“Stopped him?” Pond repeated. “Stopped him from doing what?”

Edmund attempted to interject but could only stammer.

“He was hightailing it northward,” she said, sitting on the sofa. Abby leaned back, crossing her legs, evidently enjoying Edmund’s struggles.

“L-l-l-look,” Edmund began, stepping into the room.

“No! You look.” Pond jabbed a finger at Edmund’s chest, quivering in rage and confusion. “You don’t run out on us. You don’t lie. You don’t abandon us!”

Raising his hands, Edmund tried to respond, but Pond shouted even louder.

“Shut up! We’re family, damn it! Just like you told that Edith woman. We’re family!” His voice cracked. “You … you have Molly and, and Abby …” Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Me?” Abby said, perplexed.

“My family is on an island hundreds of miles away, on the other side of those damned goblin-infested mountains!” Pond went on. “And they think I’m dead!”

You’re an ass for abandoning him.

Pond choked on a sob; most of the rage had already been screamed out of him. “You’re the only family I have!”

“I’m … I’m sorry.” Edmund put his hand on Pond’s shoulder.

Pond knocked it away.

They hugged.

“We stick together,” Pond said. “Like in the pits.”

“I’m sorry, Pond. I … I wasn’t thinking.”

There was an awkward, silent moment, and then Pond stepped back and wiped his nose across his sleeve.

“Why the hell did you run off like that, anyway?” He dried his eyes. “And good seeing you again, Abby. I had a feeling you’d find us.”

“Good to be seen,” she replied, smoothing her men’s-style britches. “You three aren’t too hard to find.”

Becky jumped up next to Abby and laid her head in her lap.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Edmund said wearily. “I was being stupid.”

“Very stupid.” Pond blew his nose.

“But we … we need to talk. All of us. We’re in danger.”

At this, Fatty waved his hands. He pointed to himself and shook his head so hard, his chins thrashed from side to side.

“No,” Edmund agreed. “Not you, Fatty. I … I think I have an idea that will help you, and us. But I’ll get to that later.”

Pond, still fighting back tears, set the two chairs from the table in front of the sofa. Fatty sat on the floor next to Abby like an obedient dog waiting to be called on. She smiled at him, but he didn’t appear comforted.