Battle for Elt: The Taking of the Wizard Bearer by A.C. Hutchinson

Author:A.C. Hutchinson [Hutchinson, A.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-25T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

Quiggly scuttled along the snow-covered path at the edge of the woods, occasionally picking up fallen pinecones to sniff; on deciding they were not food, he would fling them over his shoulder in disgust. Fabian followed his pet squaggle as the trees closed in on both sides of the path. Their tall branches blocked the winter sunshine turning the air even cooler. The old wizard shivered.

Quiggly flung another pinecone over his shoulder. Fabian was about to comment on how stupid the squaggle was for never learning, when he heard voices. He grabbed Quiggly by one of his flailing arms and fell to his knees behind a tree. Putting a finger to his lips, he told the squaggle to be quiet. When he was confident they hadn't been heard, he peeped around the tree trunk. He counted four men. They appeared to be searching for something. One of them put his hands to his mouth and shouted: “Christian.”

Quiggly cooed.

“Be quiet,” Fabian said to his squaggle. Who are these people? Are they Volk's men? If the woods weren't so gloomy I would be able to see them more clearly.

Fabian held his position behind the tree. He would not reveal himself until he was forced to.

The man closest called out again: “Christian.” Fabian thought he looked familiar. I don't believe my eyes . . .

Fabian stepped from behind the tree. The man closest unsheathed his sword, but then quickly put it away again and began to smile.

“Stetland Rouger,” Fabian said. “It's been too long.”

“Too long indeed, old man,” Stetland said.

Fabian walked to Stetland and embraced him.

Then he heard another voice: “Great-Uncle?”

Behind Stetland, stood Fabian's great-nephew Gladden.

“My boy,” Fabian said. “You've grown.” The young wizard was at least a foot taller than he was the last time Fabian had seen him. They clacked staffs and then hugged.

“And Quiggly.” The squaggle scurried up Gladden’s leg.

“Fabian,” Stetland said. “I believe you've met Sir John Bretel, head of the king's guard and a formidable knight.”

“Our paths have crossed,” the old wizard said, shaking the head guard's hand.

“And this is Marcus Delorous.”

“I was told you were bringing two soldiers with you, not one.”

Marcus looked to the ground and appeared forlorn.

“We lost him on the approach to Drewton Hills. Archers. We fell into their trap.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Volk's men are wily folk. We must keep our guard. Now, tell me how you got here so fast?”

“What do you mean?” Stetland said.

“You're just an hour's ride from the Great Road. I'm supposed to meet Eaglen there. I didn’t expect to see you, at least not until much later. I was hoping you might have taken care of the wizard bearer business in High Hunsley. But I guess if you had you wouldn't be here.”

Stetland exchanged glances with the others

“You mean we're at the easterly point of Ellerker Rise?” Sir John said.

“That's right. Did you travel through the night?”

“We were on Killingwoldgraves just an hour ago,” Gladden said.

“That's impossible,” Fabian said. “From there, it would take you . .

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