Blood in Snow (14 page)

He shook his head.

“At least it’s finally going to snow. And it’ll be freezing tonight. Without supplies, the King and his men will suffer.”

So will you. All you have is one thin blanket.

He examined the sky—a wall of grey, the kind of grey that wouldn’t yield to bright sunlight until spring. Winter had arrived.

Tethered to a tree partway down the hill, his horse snorted. It wanted shelter as well.

“Six inches by morning,” Edmund guessed. “Maybe ten.”

Within a week, we’ll have two feet, and everything will be frozen solid.

“Two weeks.”

He glanced toward Rood again, then toward the smoke from the King’s campfires. Having explored the northern valleys near the River Celerin, the King’s men had nowhere else to search than westward, and the smoke from Rood’s chimneys would lead them right to east gate.

“He’ll be there tomorrow,” Edmund said hopelessly. “Maybe the day after. But there’s nothing I can do to stop him.”

Chapter Seventeen

Edmund huddled over a small crackling fire, bathed in its flickering orange glow, while in the surrounding darkness, the wind continued to whine and whip though the pine trees. Flames thrashed toward him; thick smoke and tiny shards of snow flung themselves into his face. He coughed and tightened his blanket around his shivering body. Looming over him as if trying to stay warm, his horse snorted steam and tossed its head.

Hours earlier, he’d sent Becky to scout the immediate area for anybody who might have been near enough to pose a threat, but she hadn’t come back. Just when he was about to go look for her, she returned, bounding through the ankle-deep snow. Behind her, Abby led her horse between the trees, and farther back trudged Pond, head hanging.

“My God!” Abby ran up. “You’re freezing.”

She untied her bundle.

“We brought you supplies.” She gave him a heavy woolen coat and fur-lined cloak. “Are you okay?”

Edmund tried to put them on with numb, trembling fingers.

“Here.” Abby took off her mittens. “Let me.”

She started to fasten the coat closed.

“Wh-wh-wh … what, what el-else d-did you br-bring?”

He was going to ask her why they’d come after him, but that didn’t matter.

Abby took Edmund’s blue, chapped hands, breathed on them, and rubbed them in her own. “A heavy coat, blankets, a warmer cloak. Gabe gave us some things—food, apple cider, and a pouch of something or other. He said you would know what to do with it.”

Edmund fumbled with the drawstrings of a leather pouch as Abby pulled a fur hat over his head.

“He also told me to tell you that wherever you go, he wants to end up there.” Abby wrapped a long scarf around Edmund’s face. “A lot of people have said the same thing. They want you back. Hendrick, Toby, the others—they all said they’re with you, no matter what.”

Edmund pulled the scarf away from his mouth to slather the greasy substance from the leather pouch all over his red face. It smelled like bacon.

“So,” Abby went on, “if you want to go back, we can go back. Or we can go wherever you want. We’re a family. We stick together, right?” She touched his frozen cheek, then felt the slimy stuff rub off on her fingers. “What is this?”

Edmund forced his stiff lips to move. “M-m-moose, m-m-moose f-f-fat.”

“Ew!” She wiped her hand across her pants. “Disgusting!”

“It h-h-h … it h-helps with the c-c-cold.”

He spread more across his exposed skin.

The fire’s yellow embers sputtered and popped as clumps of snow slipped from the bent branches overhead and splattered onto the burning wood.

“Here.” Abby pulled out a pair of mittens and handed them to Edmund.

“Inside out,” he said, shivering.

She pulled his hat down over his ears. “What?”

“Put the f-f-fur, fur inside the m-m-mitten.” Edmund struggled to turn his inside out. “L-leather outside. Keeps the hands d-d-dr … drier. Warmer.”

“Oh.” Abby adjusted her own. “Nobody told me. That certainly makes sense.”

She rubbed her bare hands together and placed them against Edmund’s face, ignoring the moose fat covering his taut skin. “Can you feel everything? Fingers? Toes?”

“I’m f-fine. Thanks.”

Pond still stood several paces away, holding their horses’ reins, hooded face staring at his snow-covered boots.

“P-P-P-Pond.” Edmund tried to speak louder. “P-Pond!”

Pond looked up, eyes as red as his cold face.

“It’s okay,” Edmund said. “It’s okay.”

“I, I … I didn’t, I didn’t know he was a magic user.”

“I know.”

“I thought, I thought he … he was trying to pull something.” Pond cried. “I thought he was in league with them, you know? How else could he have been getting so much beer? I thought …”

Edmund beckoned to him. “G-g-get down by the f-f-fire. You need to k-keep warm.”

“I didn’t know!”

Abby took Pond’s hand and led him to fire.

“I didn’t know!” he sobbed.

“I understand.” Edmund stood, put his arms around his stiff friend, and patted his back. “It’s okay, it’s not your f-fault.”

Pond’s shoulders heaved a couple of times. “I was so jealous, Ed! I thought … I thought that …” He sniffled, snot freezing in his mustache.

“I understand.” Edmund shook Pond and made him look up at him. “It’s okay. Honest. N-n-now get closer to the fire, get warm. Otherwise you’re going to get fr-frostbite.”

Pond dropped to his knees with a lifeless thud and stared at the small dancing flames.

Abby cleared a place of snow and sat between Edmund and Becky.

“So,” she sighed, “where to now?”

Where to, indeed.

There’s no place to go. I’m staying here. We have to do something to save Rood.

Even after what they did?

There has to be some good in this world, even if I’m the one who has to make it happen.

“Ed?”

He watched Becky chew on a cow bone.

“Where d-d-did she g-get that?”

“Gabe sent it with us,” Abby said, “as well as other supplies. We also have something from that carpenter, Calvin I think his name is.”

“Cav-Cavin,” Edmund corrected her, shivering.

“Right. Anyway, he gave us something he called ‘snowshoes.’ He said you wanted him to make some, but he wasn’t sure if he’d made them correctly.”

Abby rubbed his arm.

“Everybody wants you back. They sent us out to tell you that, although we were headed out to join you either way. We stick together, right? Family?”

Edmund thought about Rood.

“Ed?”

“Stick together,” he echoed, his face finally beginning to thaw out.

They huddled closer to the fire, close enough for warmth but not so close their clothes would start to smolder.

Keep an open mind. See all possibilities.

“What are you thinking?” Abby asked. “Have a plan?”

There was a popping sound. At first, Edmund thought it was the fire but then realized Becky had cracked open the cow bone.

“We have to end this.” He pulled his fur-lined cloak closer to his body. He was feeling much warmer. The hat, mittens, and coat helped immensely, though he knew it would get a lot colder soon—so cold that no amount of clothing would help.

He studied the fire.

“I need to get King Lionel to just leave us be.”

“Good luck with that.” Abby threw sticks into the wavering flames. “He’d never let the Highlands go without a fight. I say we ambush his scouts and kill them off one at a time.”

Edmund considered his pitmate. Pond wasn’t crying anymore, but he looked miserable, seemingly torn between guilt and self-loathing.

Pond looked at him, lip quivering. “I’m so sorry …”

“I know.” Edmund wrapped an arm around Pond’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “Don’t worry, we’ll always be family.”

Gratitude shone in Pond’s glassy eyes.

“But I need you to pull yourself together, okay? I need you, Pond. I can’t do this by myself. Can I count on you?”

Pond nodded, rubbing his bloodshot eyes with a mittened hand.

“Are you going to return to Rood?” Abby asked.

Edmund shook his head. “No.”

“Okay,” she said resolutely, “so then where are
we
headed?”

“You two are headed back to town.”

“No, we aren’t.” She smiled at him as if he’d have a snowball’s chance in hell to change her mind. “Not without you we aren’t.”

“No,” Edmund said. He had a vague idea for a plan but no clue how to do it. “No. I n-n-n … I need you two to do something for me.”

“Ed, I’m not leaving you out here.” She gestured to the motionless Pond peering into the fire. “
We
aren’t leaving you out here.”

“Abby, I love you.”

Abby hesitated.

Pond didn’t stir.

“I love both of you” Edmund put a hand on Pond’s knee. “I love you two more than anything in this world, and I need you to trust me, okay?”

Abby took a deep breath.

“First,” she said, “tell us your plan and what you’re going to do. I don’t want you doing anything stupid, not without us near at hand to haul you to safety.”

“I’m … I’m not really sure I have a plan,” he replied, evidently substantiating Abby’s suspicions. “But I know I want to save Rood and the Highlands.”

“Are you sure? I mean, even after what they’ve done?”

Edmund pulled his hat farther down over his ears, which had begun to throb with pain. He wondered if they were frostbitten.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Things have to change, and they’re going to change here. If the people of Rood want me back, they’ll have to accept all magic users. It’ll be a safe haven for everybody who wants to live free, or it won’t be safe for anybody.”

“Ed, they want you back, but I don’t think—”

“First things first, though. We have to stop the King’s scouts from finding Rood. There’s a group of men in the valley on the other side of the hill, and if they keep heading west, they’ll run right into Rood’s east gate tomorrow.”

Pond exhaled resolutely, his breath extending out into the darkness in a long stream of vapor.

“So I need you two to go back to Rood,” Edmund said.

“Ed—” Abby protested.

“Just listen to me, okay? We need somebody to take control of the town, somebody to keep order.” He looked at Pond. “Can you do that? Are you up for it?”

Pond nodded, wiped his nose across his mitten. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“Good. And bring my horse with you. He needs food and shelter.”

“Okay.”

Edmund turned to Abby. “I need you to do something very important for me. If you don’t, people will die. Maybe all of us.”

“What?” Abby asked doubtfully.

“Go to Rood with Becky and gather all of the extra supplies we have, everything we took from the King’s wagons. Gather everything people don’t absolutely need—every extra blanket, coat, boots, food stuff, everything, and hide it all.”

“Hide it all where? There are only a handful of buildings—”

“No. Hide it out of town. There are caves in the northern hills about a mile from the old vineyards. Do you know where I’m talking about? Some caves up there can fit a large wagon. Hide everything that’s not absolutely essential, and here’s the important part …” He caught and held Abby’s gaze to make sure she knew how serious he was. “Don’t let anybody know where you’ve hidden it, okay? Tell everybody in town I took it. Nobody can know where those supplies are.”

“Okay, but why? What’s the plan?”

“I’m not sure yet, but if I don’t stop Lionel’s army from finding Rood, they’ll take everything we have. They need warm clothes and food.”

“And they’ll take everything they find,” Abby said, now understanding.

“Right. We n-n-need, we need to make sure our people still have enough supplies to survive through the winter once Lionel leaves.”

“But Ed,” Pond said, “if they find Rood, they’ll kill us—all of us. We won’t need those supplies.”

“They’ll kill me.” Then Edmund added begrudgingly, “And probably you and Hendrick. But the others are just settlers. We’re the ones who openly declared a revolt. Besides, Lionel will need them to work the land and pay taxes. He’ll only kill the leaders.”

“What about me?” Abby asked, offended she hadn’t been marked for death.

“Maybe. I don’t know how Lionel will react to rebel women. He may just flog you.”

She seemed disappointed.

“But you’re going to be with me, I think,” he told her, “once you’ve hidden the supplies. Becky can lead you to wherever I am.”

“You think so? Even in all this blowing snow? I don’t want to lose you.”

“So what are you going to do?” Pond asked.

Edmund hunched closer to the fire. The waves of heat felt wonderful.

“I’m still not sure. I just know I need to stall Lionel a little longer. This storm is going to get worse, and when it does, he’ll either leave the Highlands or die.”

Abby warmed her hands above the flames. “Let’s hope it’s the latter.”

“No.” Edmund shook his head. “I’m tired of all the death. We can’t gain peace by killing more people. It’ll never end.”

“How are you going to stall him?” Pond asked.

The fire popped and spit an orange spark, hissing, into the snow.

“I don’t know. But our time is slowly running out.”

Chapter Eighteen

By the time Abby and Pond had ridden off with Becky, night was well underway. Snow continued to fall in great slashing sheets through cutting winds now beyond bitter. Edmund tugged his hood farther over his face, thankful for the moose fat and extra clothes. It was warmer, yes, but the temperatures would soon plummet even more, and he had to do what needed to be done before he, too, froze to death.

He shuffled along on the crude snowshoes Cavin had made. They worked well enough; he didn’t sink into the calf-high snow, but they were much too big. Edmund felt like a frog, hopping from drift to drift, and he debated whether he could run faster with or without them.

Far off within the dark hills, a wolf howled, long and mournful. Several others answered farther to the west.

Through the trees, Edmund saw the three men-at-arms flinch as they huddled around their pathetic campfire.