Blood in Snow (34 page)

Sam appeared crestfallen.

“Let me ask you this …” Edmund leaned forward. “Do you know anything about farming? Can you make crops grow better? Maybe help vines grow more grapes or fruit trees become more bountiful? Anything like that?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to laugh.

“I could make those vines grow grapes twice as big as anything you’ve seen before and make them rich and juicy! Same thing with corn or anything that grows. As I said, I’m
very
good with plants.”

“Then go around to the farms. They’re readying the fields for planting, and they’ll need help. Tell them you’re new and you know a thing or two about farming. They’ll appreciate anything you can do for them.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.” Edmund leaned back in his chair. “Once you get settled in, I want to hear your ideas for making Rood into a paradise everybody will flock to. I appreciate flowers, even if most men around here won’t.”

For a moment, Sam sat half-amazed, half-skeptical, until Edmund’s words finally sank in. Then he stood, held out his hand.

“Thank you, sir. I … I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for this. To finally find a safe … well, a home. To finally find a real home means the world to me.”

Edmund shook his hand. “Help the town as much as you can, and make yourself into a model citizen. Don’t let anybody find fault because you’re different and everything should be fine.”

“I will, sir! Be a model citizen, like you said, and everything. I promise! I’ll show everybody how useful we all can be!”

“Splendid!”

Sam made to leave, but something occurred to Edmund.

“Sam?”

The gardener stopped and looked back, still smiling.

“There’s a bush,” said Edmund, considering the possibilities, “I’m not sure what its real name is, but we called them ‘prickle bushes’ when we were kids.”

“Red leaves? Little purple flowers that smell nice? Tiny thorns that cause a skin rash?”

“Yeah, exactly. How big can those bushes grow?”

“Do you mean how big do they normally grow, or how big could a really good gardener make them grow?”

“Yes. How tall and how wide could you grow them?”

“Ten feet by ten feet, I’d say. Maybe twelve feet.”

“And how fast can they grow?” Edmund corrected himself. “That is, how fast could you make them grow?”

“Maybe three feet a year. But why? They’re a horrid nuisance down south. They snag on everything that brushes up against ’em. A lot of people swell up like bullfrogs if they get scratched. And they’re a bear to cut down; they just grow back even thicker.”

Edmund nodded to himself. Once, as a child, an older boy had thrown him into a patch of prickle bushes. It took him nearly an hour to fight his way free, and when he had, he’d been cut to shreds and was itching uncontrollably.

“Maybe you’ll be able to do something wonderful for the town after all.”

“Sir?”

“We’ll need a new wall soon, but we don’t have enough masons.”

“So … you want me to plant a ring of prickle bushes around the town?”

“Could you imagine enemy soldiers trying to push through a ten-foot hedge of prickle bushes?”

Sam’s smile turned mischievous. “Sir, if you’d like, I can make those bushes not only bloom all year round but also make their thorns so potent, anybody who touches them will itch for a month!”

A wall of flowering bushes …

Why not? See all possibilities.

Edmund shrugged and laughed. “Let’s give it a try! Let me know if you need anything. I’m sure some men could be spared from other projects.”

“I will. I’ll get started right away!”

Edmund watched Sam bound out the door and down the front steps like a man half his age. “A wall of flowering bushes … Somehow, that’s just perfect.”

Still smiling, he sat next to Ellie and played blocks with her.

“How’s my girl?”

He stacked a tall tower.

Ellie knocked them over and clapped her hands.

“Oh, what did you do?” Edmund pretended to pout. He restacked the blocks and she knocked them over again, clapping and giggling even louder.

“Okay …” Edmund built another tower. “I’d like to see you try to knock over—”

Ellie kicked the blocks, sending them flying across the living room.

Laughing, Edmund swept her up, tossed her into the air, and kissed her tummy. She screeched with pleasure. Then Edmund felt chilled, as if a draft had come in or the bright afternoon sun had gone behind a cloud.

He leapt to his feet and spun around.

“What are you doing?” Horic shouted, standing in the front doorway. “Fool! You’re going to ruin everything! Everything!”

Edmund’s hand fell to his belt, but he didn’t have his sword. He glanced around for Becky, but he’d sent her with Abby earlier that morning.

“What do you want? Get out of here! You’re not welcome in Rood.”

“You’re going to get us all killed! Is that what you want?” Horic stepped closer, liver-spotted hands clutching his black cane. “You fool!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Having magic users come here! Out in the open!” Horic could barely contain his rage. “You’re gathering everybody in one place, where we can all be found! They’ll come for us! They’ll kill everybody! Everybody!”

“No, they won’t. King Lionel gave us—”

“Lionel is dead.” Horic shook with fury.

“Lionel’s dead?”

“And guess who they blame?” Cursing, Horic lifted a hand from the top of his cane. The air began to crackle. “You’ve done this. You’ve doomed us all!”

The screen door creaked open behind Horic. Abby and Becky came into the house, Abby with her black-bladed dagger drawn.

“Leave!” Edmund shouted.

Horic considered the growling Becky, her eyes flickering red. He slowly returned his hand to the top of his cane. Snarling, he made to say something to Edmund when he suddenly noticed Ellie.

“Wh, wh, wh—?” He pointed at her with a shaking finger. “What—! How—! Kill her! Kill her!”

Immediately Edmund stepped between Horic and Ellie. He seized the old man by the throat. His hands began to tingle.

“If you ever so much as look at my daughter again, I’ll kill you.”

He shoved Horic out of the house. Horic fell, sprawling onto the rickety front porch.

“Get out of here!” Edmund shouted. “Or Becky will rip you to pieces.”

Becky stepped toward the prone magic user, growling and baring sharp, white teeth. People in the street stopped to watch.

“Your daughter?” Horic croaked, scrabbling away from Becky. “You fool! Do you know what she is? Do you have any idea what she’s capable of doing?”

“She’s my daughter. And I’m giving you ten seconds.”

“She’s a—”

“One!”

Horic clambered his feet. “You’re dooming us all!”

“Two!”

Horic turned and hobbled through the small crowd gathered outside the house.

“You okay, sir?” somebody called to Edmund.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, dampening the anger from his voice. “Sorry for the disruption.”

Edmund and Abby watched Horic make for the west gate, then closed the door.

“I saw him come into town and thought he might pay you a visit.” Abby plopped onto the sofa. “You’ll have to do something about him eventually. You know that, right?”

Ellie toddled toward her, arms uplifted. Then she saw Becky. Becky scampered to another room.

Edmund sat across from them. “I’ll deal with him later.”

“Just keep an eye out,” Abby said, bouncing Ellie on her knee. “And make sure you’re never unarmed again. I can’t always be here to save you.”

“True.”

Edmund watched Abby play with Ellie for a few minutes then asked, “What’s on your mind, Abby?”

Abby fell still, gaze floating out the window. Men were hauling timber, and horses dragged trees to be cut and planed. The town was buzzing with activity.

Edmund waited.

Abby sighed. “I don’t know. Something’s wrong with me, I think.”

You’re perfect.

“Do you mean …?” Edmund paused.

“Oh”—she motioned to her white hair and wrinkled hands—“it … it isn’t this. It’s something else.”

“What then?”

Ellie patted Abby’s head and babbled something.

“I don’t know,” said Abby. “I … I just can’t seem to feel happy. With all the wonderful things going on here and everything, well, I still feel … I feel …”

“Bored?”

“Yes!” Then her enthusiasm waned. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound—”

Edmund waved a dismissive hand.

“I mean …” She stared out the window again. “I think what you’re doing here is really important. It’s terrific!”

“But it’s not for you,” Edmund suggested. “It isn’t yours?”

“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry, Ed. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“You’re feeling restless, like watching sand sliding through an hourglass, and you want to do something with your life—before it’s too late.”

“Exactly!” Abby cried.

Ellie gurgled something that sounded remarkably like, “Exactly.”

Abby laughed. “How do you know me so well?”

Edmund didn’t want to say what he was thinking.

Abby looked at him sheepishly. “You wouldn’t mind if I left, would you? I mean, just for a little while. I just want to—”

“Adventure?”

Abby laughed again. Ellie laughed with her, clapping her hands. “You really do know me, don’t you?”

With great effort, Edmund spoke his thoughts.

“Look, Abby. You never have to check with me about anything. We’re family, but you’re your own person. If you want to go on an adventure, or an entire string of them, I’m happy for you. I say go and enjoy life. One suggestion, though: have Toby give you a short sword and a chain vest made out of the black steel. They’ll come in handy.”

Abby set Ellie onto the sofa beside her and leaned forward in earnest.

“You wouldn’t mind? Be honest with me Ed, please.”

Edmund took Abby’s hand.

“I don’t mind. Stop dreaming and start doing. Have Hendrick teach you how to handle a sword and shoot a bow …” He hated to say the rest, but felt he had to. “And … and go. Explore the world while you’re young!”

“Young,” Abby muttered.

Edmund mentally kicked himself. Of all the words to use.

“I certainly don’t look young anymore, do I?” She pulled her hood over her face. “Still, I desperately want to do something of consequence … if I can.”

“Abby,” Edmund said, trying not to mention his love for her, “you can do anything you set your mind to, including adventure. You’re smart, and you learn from your mistakes. Plus, being a woman—”

She shot him a warning glance.

Ellie climbed down from the sofa. Edmund scooped her up.

“All I mean is, nobody would suspect you of adventuring. You could sneak around and gather all kinds of information without even being noticed. You’re good at that.”

“I am good at that.”

“Abby”—Edmund held Ellie against his shoulder—“I love you.” Abby studied the block-strewn floor as if she hadn’t heard, though Edmund guessed she had. “Go. And take Becky with you.”

Ellie babbled something that might have been “Becky.”

But Abby frowned. “Ed, I don’t need protecting.”

“Of course you do, and don’t get angry! I need protecting, too. Everybody does. That’s why we have swords and armor. The world isn’t always a nice place.” Ellie pointed toward Becky’s hiding spot and tried to squirm out of Edmund’s grasp. Edmund repositioned her.

“Don’t refuse things just because they’re offered. You know you’re safer with Becky than without, true?”

Abby mumbled something.

“Plus, Becky isn’t just protection; she’s also good company. And believe me, it gets lonely out in the wilds by yourself. So take her with you.”

“What about you?”

“By summer, I’ll have a hundred and fifty trained warriors armed with black blades and armored in black chainmail. Within five years, we’ll probably have the best fighting force on the continent. Don’t worry about me.”

Ellie grabbed Edmund’s nose, pulled, and giggled.

“Besides,” he added, “Ellie and Becky don’t get along. I think she’d prefer to go with you anyway; she’s spoiling to kill something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“All right!” Abby laughed. “Becky and I will go adventuring! Now … I just need to decide where I’m going.”

“Actually—” Edmund walked to a corner table. On it sat the huge black tome from the troll’s lair, a stack of papers, and the blanket-covered box. He pushed aside the box, moving the blanket slightly to reveal a small cage with two field mice gnawing on a thrashing foot. “I think I have an idea, if you’re up to it.”

Abby picked up a piece of paper with strange runes. “Are you finished translating the book?”

“No, but I’m getting closer.”

He riffled through more stacks of paper, pulled out a map, and unfolded it in front of Abby.

“Have you ever heard of Tol Falon?”

“No, I haven’t.” Abby leaned in to study the map. “Where is it?”

“There.” Edmund tapped a range of hills near the center of the known continent.

“And what’s there?”

“It used to be a small keep and a town.” Edmund set Ellie onto the floor, tired of her wiggling.

Ellie toddled after Becky, who pushed open the screen door and bolted outside. Ellie tried to follow.

“Stay here, Ellie-girl,” Edmund said.

Ellie pounded on the screen door.

“If you’re interested,” Edmund said to Abby, “I’d like you to go there and look around a bit.”

“Look for what? Why? What’s there?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it might be important. For some reason, right before he died, Iliandor sent one of his trusted advisors there.”

“Who?”

“His personal librarian. Some called him Narvist, but he went by other names.”

They stared at the tiny spot on the map far from any cities or towns.

“You think he sent part of his formula there, don’t you?” said Abby.

“Maybe. I know he didn’t put the entire formula in his diary.”

Ellie continued to bang on the screen door.

“Look, Abby, if I’m right, this adventure could be dangerous.”

Abby gave him a sidelong glare.