“Don’t go too far,” Margaret warned them. “Stay within yelling distance of the house. Alfred, you remember what your father said about the goblin army.”
“I don’t think the army’s here yet,” said Alfred. “And even if it does come, we’ll be able to hear it long before we see it. Goblin armies aren’t quiet”
“We promise to stay close to the house,” Carlyle said, to reassure his mother.
They walked along the mountainside. The snow was beginning to melt now that the midday sun was out. The trees were sparse this high up, but there were still a few trees dotted here and there. And there were bushes and tufts of grass. And there were lots and lots of rocks. Alfred and Carlyle picked up some of the smaller stones and threw them off into the distance to see whose stone could fly farther. Catherine watched their game with a look of bemused disdain.
The view from the mountain was always spectacular. Down below, they could see the great forest, with all its endless trees, and rivers, and lakes, all laid out beneath them. Even though they had grown up with this view, and were accustomed to it, there was something about that vast expanse of forest that always intrigued them. They couldn’t help but wonder what was down there beneath the trees.
After throwing his last rock, Carlyle sat down on the mountain slope with a sigh. “I wish I could go down into the forest. Just once. Just so I could see what it’s like.” He turned his head to look at Alfred. “Have you ever been to the forest?” he asked.
“A couple of times,” said Alfred, sitting down next to Carlyle. “I’ve been with my father to help get supplies. But my father doesn’t like going down into the forest unless he has to. And then when he does, he doesn’t like staying long.”
“But it’s not dangerous in the forest, is it?” asked Carlyle.
“I don’t know,” said Alfred. “Maybe it’s not dangerous for everyone, but it seems to be dangerous for my father. He always acts really nervous when he’s in the forest, and whenever anyone comes near, he covers up his face.”
“What do you think he’s afraid of?” asked Carlyle.
“I don’t know,” said Alfred. “But I remember something Lucas told me once. Lucas said that because it’s really dangerous up here in the mountains, nobody lives up here by choice. He said only fugitives live here in the mountains.”
“Fugitives?”
“Yeah, you know, murderers, thieves, traitors--anyone who did something terrible in the forest, and had to run away. But because the mountains are so dangerous, the forest people never come up here. So it’s the perfect place to hide away. Lucas said his father killed a man in the forest, and that’s why they have to live here in the mountains.”
“Really?” said Carlyle, leaning closer. Even Catherine, who had been standing behind the boys, trying to act like the conversation didn’t interest her, perked up her ears.
“Well, that’s what he said,” Alfred repled. They were quiet for a few seconds, and then Alfred spoke again. “I wonder if my father killed a man,” he said idly. “I think he must have. I don’t think he was a thief. If he was a thief, he’d just join up with one of those robber gangs that live up here in the mountains.”
“There are a lot of robbers up here,” Carlyle said.
“Yeah, well they have to live up here,” Alfred explained. “They go down to the forest to do their stealing, but then they come back up here so that the forest people won’t chase them.”
“I wonder what my father did,” said Carlyle. “I can’t imagine him killing anyone.”
“Well,” said Alfred slowly, “your parents are very old, aren’t they? They’re older than anyone else up here in the mountains.”
“So?”
“So maybe your father killed someone when he was very young, and he’s been hiding up here ever since. People can change a lot in 50 years, you know. Sure, he’s just a harmless old man now, but maybe he was a vicious killer when he was young.”
“He’s not so harmless, even now,” said Catherine. “He knows how to fight.”
“I guess he must,” admitted Alfred. “You would have to know how to fight to live up here, what with all the thieves and animals and monsters. That’s why it’s important to practice every day.” Alfred looked back at Catherine as if he suddenly remembered something. “Hey, Catherine, where did you go yesterday?” he asked.
“I already asked her,” said Carlyle.
“None of your concern,” said Catherine sharply.
“It’s dangerous to wander off by yourself like that,” said Alfred.
“I already told her,” said Carlyle.
“And you missed all the fighting matches. You missed me beating Kevin.”
“The fighting bores me,” said Catherine.
“That’s just because girls don’t know how to fight,” said Alfred.
Catherine became indignant. “That’s not true,” she said. “I live in these mountains the same as you. I’ve had to fight off the werewolves and the goblins the same as everyone else.”
“That’s different,” said Alfred. “It’s not the same as fighting another human. When you fight humans, you have to learn how to punch and block and dodge and attack and--.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Alfred! I’ve seen you fight before. You don’t have any technique. You just come in swinging. There’s no difference between fighting you and fighting a goblin.”
Alfred immediately went red in the face. He opened his mouth to respond, but then thought better of whatever he was going to say and closed his mouth again. “You don’t understand because you’re a girl,” said Alfred, and he turned his head away from Catherine and went back to looking at the forest below.
“I could beat you in a fight,” Catherine answered.
“You could not,” said Alfred, not even turning around to look at Catherine.
“If you’re scared then,” said Catherine.
There was a pause, and then Alfred began to stand up. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
Alfred was one year younger and about a head smaller than Catherine. But what he lacked in height, he made up in strength. He was too young to cultivate bulging muscles, but his constant fighting and wrestling had given him strong sinewy arms.
Catherine regarded him coolly. She pushed her brown hair casually behind her ears as she waited for Alfred to get to his feet.
“If I win,” Alfred said, “You have to admit that you don’t know anything about how to fight.”
“Agreed,” Catherine answered. “And if I win, you and Carlyle are not allowed to talk about fighting for the rest of the time you’re staying with us. Honestly, the nonsense you two talk bores me to tears.”
“It’s a deal,” said Alfred. He raised his fists and slowly approached Catherine.
“Careful Alfred,” Carlyle said sternly. “Don’t hurt my sister.”
“I’m not going to hurt her. This is just going to be a friendly little fight.”
“No punching in the face,” Carlyle insisted.
“I wasn’t going to,” said Alfred.
Catherine smirked. “Don’t worry about me, Carlyle. You should be more worried about Alfred.”
There was something about the smirk on Catherine’s face that infuriated Alfred. He lunged at her, but Catherine was too quick for him. Catherine grabbed his arms before he could grab her, and then jerked him towards her, causing Alfred to lose his footing and stumble forward. Then, once Catherine had him off balance, she pushed him to the ground. Alfred landed with a thud on the rocky mountain slope.
Alfred got to his feet slowly, his knees and palms bloodied from the fall. Catherine looked over at Carlyle smugly.
Carlyle sighed. “Catherine, don’t hurt him anymore than you have to,” he said wearily.
“I won’t,” Catherine cooed. “Come on, Alfred. Ready to try again?”
“That wasn’t fair,” Alfred exclaimed. “You just waited until I made the first move, and then you pulled me off balance.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Catherine. “I’m just a girl. I don’t understand the rules. What rules do you boys usually play by?”
Alfred ignored the question so as not to give Catherine the satisfaction of hearing him admit that she had broken no rules. “Let’s try again,” he said.
Alfred slowly circled Catherine. He made several feints to try to take Catherine off of her guard, but she was never deceived. Each time he tried to trick her by pretending he was going to swing or lunge forward, she just widened her green eyes with amusement and smiled at him. But the more Catherine smiled, the angrier Alfred got.
“Come on!” Alfred called out in frustration. “Don’t just stand there and wait for me. Make a move!”
No sooner had Alfred spoke then Catherine’s hand shot out and she hit him in the chest with the heel of her palm. Alfred fell onto his butt, partly from the force of the blow and partly from the surprise knocking him off balance. He rubbed his chest where Catherine had hit him. “That wasn’t fair,” he said again. “I wasn’t ready. I was busy talking to you.”
“Oh dear,” said Catherine, although her face didn’t look at all concerned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I really don’t understand the rules at all. How many seconds do I have to wait after you finish talking?”
Once again, Alfred ignored the question. He got to his feet once more. “You’ve tricked me twice, but now I’m ready for you,” he said.
Alfred eyed Catherine cautiously, trying to decide whether she was going to attack or not. When Catherine didn’t make any move to attack, Alfred stepped forward and swung at her with his right hand. The swing was wild, and not only was Catherine easily able to move back and avoid it, but Catherine noticed that Alfred had left his right side open. She moved in quickly and hit him in the ribs. Alfred grimaced, but he didn’t fall over this time. Instead he grabbed hold of Catherine’s arms. Catherine tried to pull back to free herself, but Alfred just tightened his grip. Catherine then turned her wrists against Aflred’s thumbs, causing him to lose his grip. But before she could back away, Alfred’s hands immediately shot out and grabbed her again. This time he latched on to her upper arms. They grappled for a while as Alfred tried to throw Catherine to the ground. Catherine grabbed onto his upper arms partly to balance herself and partly to try to push back. Alfred was strong--stronger than Catherine was, and now that they were locked in each other’s grip, it seemed like he might succeed in pushing her over. Catherine squeezed her hands and tried as hard as she could to push Alfred back.
And then, suddenly, Alfred was screaming. It wasn’t a triumphant scream, it was a high-pitched scream of shock and fear. Alfred was no longer trying to push Catherine, but now he was pulling backwards, desperately trying to free himself from her grip. Catherine, confused about what was going on, froze up and simply stared at Alfred, not even thinking at first that she should release her grip. But when Alfred’s legs gave way beneath him and he started to collapse onto the ground, Catherine came to her senses and let go.
Carlyle dashed over. It was obvious to him that something had gone wrong, but at first he didn’t know who to help. Catherine was standing up and Alfred was kneeling down on the ground, but they both looked equally shocked. “What happened?” asked Carlyle. And then he saw it. Alfred’s sleeves had been destroyed right at the spot where Catherine had been gripping his arms, and it was possible to see his skin underneath. And his skin was warped and raw and red.
“Catherine, what did you do?” asked Carlyle.
“I--I don’t know,” Catherine stammered. “I didn’t mean to.”
Carlyle turned to Alfred. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“My arms hurt,” Alfred wailed.
“Alfred, I’m so sorry,” Catherine blurted out. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It hurts,” Alfred said again. He had tears in his eyes from the pain, which he ordinarily would have tried to hide, but at the moment he was too distracted to care about.
Catherine’s face was white with horror. She stood there just staring at Alfred, not believing what had just happened. She then opened up her hands, and looked at her own palms in disbelief.
It was up to Carlyle, then, to try to take command of the situation. “Mother will know what to do,” he said. “Let’s get back to the house. Alfred, can you stand up?”
“It hurts,” Alfred said again.
“I know,” said Carlyle soothingly. “Can you walk? We need to get you back to the house. My mother can help you.”
Alfed was quiet for a few seconds, and then he nodded his head. He stood up quietly without moving his arms.
“It’s alright,” said Carlyle. “My mother will know what to do.”
Alfred and Carlyle started walking towards the house. Catherine stayed where she was, not moving, until Carlyle called out after her. “Catherine, come on. You can’t stay out here alone.” Catherine then snapped out of her trance and started following them back home.
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