Merlin's Shadow by Robert Treskillard

Author:Robert Treskillard [Treskillard, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780310735113
Publisher: Blink
Published: 2013-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

REVENGE

Run!” Merlin called, but it was too late. Fifteen warriors surrounded them, all with spears leveled, and Scafta among them.

“I told you they’d set a guard,” Colvarth said.

“So many.” Merlin instinctively dropped his spear. Their was no other choice. Arthur must live, and they must live to free him.

Bedwir hesitated, but then followed Merlin’s example.

Scafta snatched up the two spears and stepped up to them, mouth open in awful triumph. His breath smelled like rotten fish, and he pointed both spears at Merlin’s chest.

“Thusa back-ive ris am village!” the man screamed. “Now!”

They were marched single file all the way back to the center of the village, where the heaped and dying embers of the great bonfire still burned. When the dead guards were discovered, a great cry rose up among the warriors, and soon all the village was roused.

Necton, at the discovery of Arthur having been taken from his hut, was furious, but controlled his anger and gave Arthur back to his wife, who sobbed into the child’s bare chest.

Ealtain swung his massive fists, struck Caygek down and then Bedwir. Finally, stopping before Merlin, his chest heaved in and out and his lower lip knotted in fury. The veins on his arms throbbed, and he held up a hand to smash Merlin.

Scafta clicked his tongue, and Ealtain jerked his head around. Scafta stepped over, his massive ball of hair looking more scraggly than normal, and whispered in the chieftain’s ear.

Ealtain smiled and shouted for everyone to back up.

Merlin backed up too, but Ealtain grabbed his tunic and pulled him to the center.

“Given-sa ris Scafta Merlin is, air escape, that airson killed-ar might be. Thusa say-idh yiu air him yiur curses!”

Merlin didn’t understand this exactly, but could tell it was serious by the whiteness and shock that came over Colvarth’s face.

Scafta stepped into the ring holding a spear. But not just any spear: a jagged, wicked-looking thing with a collar of what looked like human hair tied on just beyond the black tip. The shaft was stained with blood and gore, as if it had already been used that night to gut someone. That was when Merlin noticed a sharp iron hook on the other end.

Merlin was weaponless.

Ealtain sneered and then stepped to the edge of the ring of yelling, angry Picts.

Garth peeked out behind Ealtain’s elbow with his eyes squinted and his jaw set. Natalenya stood behind him, her white fingers gripping the boy’s shoulder.

Scafta advanced, the spear end jabbing toward Merlin’s throat.

Merlin backed up, but there wasn’t far to go before he’d —

Something hit his ankles hard, and his legs flew out from underneath him. He fell to the hard-packed dirt, and his head spun. A three-foot log lay under his feet that someone had rolled out to trip him.

The crowd erupted in laughter, as Scafta jabbed the ground repeatedly just inches from Merlin’s arms, chest, and head.

Merlin sat up, dazed, then quickly got to his feet. Where had Scafta gone?

The back of Merlin’s tunic ripped, and Scafta laughed as he waved the cloth he had cut like a flag of triumph.

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