Chapter 12: The Battle on the Mountainside (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version and this Gemini Chat.]

Chapter 12: The Battle on the Mountainside

Carlyle and Alfred sat on the frozen earth outside the cave mouth that had once been a home. Carlyle’s focus was narrow, locked on the length of steel in his lap—Finn’s sword. Nearby, Alfred gripped the handle of a heavy woodsman’s axe, his knuckles white against the dark wood.

The afternoon was unnervingly still. The snow was falling more heavily now than before, falling in fat, lazy flakes, covering the ground in a white blanket, and seeming to muffle all other sounds except that of Carlyle’s scrubbing. 

Carlyle was trying to clean the blood off of Finn’s sword.  He had an old coarse burlap cloth in his hand, but no soap or water.  Nevertheless, he scrubbed at the sword. The silent air was filled only by the rhythmic scritch-scritch of Carlyle’s work.  Some of the blood flaked away like dead skin, revealing the cold glimmer of the blade beneath.

Alfred was supposed to be keeping a lookout, but he kept looking over to watch Carlyle’s progress.  After a while, Alfred finally spoke up.  “When do you think the robbers will come?

“I don’t know,” said Carlyle, not looking up from the sword.

Alfred nodded and was silent for a bit longer.  He went back to keeping a look out, and scanning across the mountainside.  Then, after about a minute, he asked, “How many of them do you think there will be?”

“I don’t know,” said Carlyle.  “I think they’ll come with at least twenty, but it could be more.”

“If everyone from the group arrives, if they actually come, there will be twelve,” said Alfred.  “Counting me and you of course.  Oh, and plus Catherine.  That’ll make thirteen.  Where is she, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” said Carlyle.  “She must have gone off with our parents to your home.”

“It’s strange that she’s not here with us,” Alfred said.

“You know what she’s like,” Carlyle said.  “She always wants to do her own thing.”  

Alfred nodded again.  He brushed some of the falling snow off of his face.  “You saw what she did this morning, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t see much,” he said.  “I was busy fighting.”

“You must have seen it though,” Alfred said.

Carlyle stopped scrubbing the sword briefly.  He stared at the blade, his reflection distorted in the semi-polished steel. “I saw enough,” he said.

“It’s just like what she did to me,” Alfred said.

“Maybe,” Carlyle said.

“What do you think is going on with her?” asked Alfred.

“I don’t know,” Carlyle said.  

A sharp, grating caw echoed from the grey sky. Both boys looked up as a raven spiraled down, its black feathers iridescent against the falling white. It landed a few feet away, hopping closer with an unsettling, intelligent gait. It tilted its head this way and that, and appeared to be studying them carefully.  

“Are you Catherine’s brother?” the bird asked. Its voice sounded like dry leaves skittering over stone.

Carlyle exchanged glances with Alfred, and then looked back at the Raven.  “I am,” he said.  

“Pleased to meet you,” the Raven said, bowing his head slightly.  “My name is Baldrick.  I am one of the sons of Branoc.”  The raven stretched his wings out.  “I must go now and tell my father that I’ve found you here.”

“Why?” asked Carlyle.  

But the raven did not wait for an answer.  It fluttered its wings, and flew away.

Carlyle and Alfred watched as the raven became a black smudge disappearing into the treeline.  Then Alfred turned and looked at Carlyle.  “It’s been a very strange day,” he said.

“It has,” Carlyle agreed.

Then another voice sounded from down the mountain slope.  “There you are!” Margaret came scrambling up the rocky path, her breath coming in ragged gasps, with Brian following close behind. “What are you doing?” she cried, reaching Carlyle and grabbing his shoulder. “You have to leave!”

“This is our home, Mother,” Carlyle said.

“But it’s not safe,” she said.  “The robbers are coming.  You know that.”

Carlyle stood up and held up Finn’s sword, the steel catching the dim afternoon light..  “When they come, we’ll fight them.”

“You can’t fight them with just one sword, boy,” Brian said.  “Your father knew that.”

“You can’t reason with them either,” Carlyle said.  “You know that.”

Alfred, who had returned his gaze to the mountain slope, suddenly stiffened. “Carlyle. Look.”  High above them, descending down from the top of the mountain, there was a large group of  men.  “Here they come,” Alfred said.  

There must be fifty of them,” said Margaret, her face ashen.

Carlyle and Alfred quickly stood up.  Carlyle held his sword firmly.

One of the men at the front of the pack—the one Carlyle had wounded earlier that day—stopped and cupped his hands around his mouth. “I see you still have the old man’s steel, boy! Do you think it will save you from all of us?”

Carlyle felt a hot surge of adrenaline. He stepped forward and brandished the sword high. “You seem much braver with fifty friends at your back! Come down and see if my steel has grown any softer!”

“Insolent pup!” the robber roared.  “I’ll have your head on that blade by sundown!”

Margaret tugged desperately at Carlyle’s arm, her eyes swimming with tears. “I’m begging you. Run. Stop this nonsense and run away.  There’s still time to run away.  You can’t fight fifty of them by yourself.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Alfred shouted, a grin breaking across his face. “Look!”

Alfred pointed across the mountain slope.  Coming into view was Shawn, who came running from across the mountainside, carrying his father’s sword.  Behind him, Lucinda appeared, a spear in each hand and a look of grim determination on her face.  And then came Gabrielle, with a boy and a quiver of arrows on her back.  And next came Lucas and Kevin, each carrying huge clubs, and Paul and Marcus, with their swords drawn, and Stella carrying a battle ax, followed by Molly, who had a giant wooden staff, and Abby who brought her slingshot with her.

Without a word, they all planted themselves behind Carlyle.

Carlyle looked back at the group and smiled.  He knew that even with the twelve of them, it was still a suicidal battle.  But at least he had not been wrong about the loyalty of his friends.

Carlyle turned back to Margaret.  “Mother, I will fight here,” he said.  “If I die, I die.  But I will not run from the men who murdered my father.  You are too old for this battle.  Go inside the house quickly, and shut the door.  Don’t come out again until it’s safe.”  Carlyle looked over at Brian.  “Go with her and keep her safe,” he said.

Brian turned to Alfred.  “Come on, boy,” he said.  “Come with us.”

“I’m staying with Carlyle,” Alfred replied.  

Brian grabbed Alfred’s arm, trying to haul him toward the cave. “Come on, son. Don’t be a fool.”

“I said I’m staying,” Alfred said, planting his feet.

When Brian tried to pull harder, the group surged. Shawn and Paul stepped in, anchoring Alfred, while Lucas and Kevin firmly pried Brian’s fingers away.

Brian’s face turned a deep, furious red.  “You ungrateful whelp!” he spat out at his son.  “Is this how you repay me for raising you all those years?  Are you going to throw your life away like this? I raised you to survive, not to throw your life into a ditch for a lost cause!”

“Don’t be angry,” said Carlyle.  “Would you have him run away, and leave his friend behind?”

Brian’s cheeks reddened at Carlyle’s insult.  His eyes glared at Carlyle, but his voice stayed calm.  “I would,” he said.  “If it would save his life.”

“Alfred’s doing the honorable thing,” Carlyle replied.

“You fool!” Brian spat out.  “There’s no honor among the mountain folk.  People who struggle to survive don’t worry about honor.”

“There isn’t time to argue, father,” Alfred said.  “You must either join us, or go to safety now.”

Brian looked back at Carlyle.  “You are a child of evil,” he said, his voice seething with anger.  “It’s not enough that you have to throw your own life away, you have to take everyone else with you as well.  Very well.  Since I cannot let my son go into the fight without me, I will join in the fight with him.  And you will be the death of all of us.”

The robbers began running down the mountain.  Carlyle’s friends braced for battle.  There was very little time left.  “Mother, quickly,” Carlyle said.  “Get in the house.”  

“What do I care now for my own wretched life!” Margaret wailed.  “I did not spend fourteen long years on these mountains only to allow you to throw your life away in some pointless battle. If you’re determined to die, then I will also die.”

“Mother, please!” Carlyle yelled in anguish.  But the time for arguing had  vanished. The first wave of robbers were almost upon them now.

As the robbers neared the group, Lucinda stepped forward and readied her spears.  She balanced one in her hand, ready to throw.  Gabrielle reached into a quiver, took out an arrow, fitted it to the bowstring, and pulled back.  And Abby put a rock into her slingshot.

“Steady,” Shawn shouted.  “Don’t let them scare you.  Wait for your chance.”

There was a cawing sound in the air.  Carlyle looked up, and saw what looked like three different Ravens flying above.  The ravens seemed to be watching everything intently.  

“Now!” yelled Shawn.  Lucinda let out a war cry, leapt forward, and threw her first spear.  It whistled through the air to catch a robber in the chest. Gabrielle’s arrow followed, finding a throat. A stone from Abby’s sling cracked against a robber’s temple.

Then the lines collided. 

It was a blur of screaming and steel. Carlyle ran forward with his sword, and swung wildly.  The robbers frantically dodged his sword or tried to block it.  Shawn also fought with his sword, and he got into a duel with one of the robbers. Lucas swung his huge club and managed to hit a robber on the side of the head and knock him over.  Molly swung her wooden staff from side to side and kept the robbers at bay.

Alfred swung his ax and hit a robber on this chin with it.  Another robber tried to run Alfred through with his sword, but Brian was watching out for his son, and tackled this robber to the ground, where the two of them then continued wrestling and fighting on the ground.  

It was chaos and fighting everywhere.  Even Margaret, old and unarmed though she was, had started grappling with one of the robbers.  So far, Carlyle and his friends were keeping the robbers at bay.  But as the robbers kept surging forward, everyone could see that the thirteen of them would soon be overwhelmed by the fifty.

Then, a shrill sounding whistle pierced the air.  Some of the combatants turned their heads briefly to see Catherine walking up the mountain slope.  She was whistling that old tune that Finn used to whistle.  Her hands were glowing.  

“That’s the witch!” one of the robbers yelled to the others.  “Kill her!”

But then, from somewhere down the mountain slope, the sound of a wolf howling came in answer to Catherine’s whistling. This was followed by several more howls.  The howling grew more and more, until it sounded like a whole chorus of howls.

And then, from down the mountain, about fifty wolves came running up the mountainside.  

At the sight of this huge pack of wolves, everyone started to run.  But then, it became apparent that Catherine was directing the wolves.  She pointed to the robbers, and the wolves ran right past Carlyle, Alfred and the rest of the group, and attacked only the robbers.  They sank their teeth into the robbers’ legs and arms.  They jumped up and went straight for the throat.  The robbers tried to fight back with their clubs and swords and axes, but when a snarling wolf is leaping straight at you, it is a hard thing to defend yourself against, even with a weapon.  Pretty soon, the whole group of robbers was put to flight.  The wolves chased them up the mountainside.

Shawn, exhausted from the fight, came over next to Carlyle.  “I don’t believe it,” he said, wiping a smear of blood from his forehead. “We lived through it after all.”

Carlyle surveyed the scene.  There were several dead robbers strewn across the rocky slopes of the mountainside.  But all the members of the group were still standing.  Lucas, Kevin, Marcus, Paul, Shawn,Stella, Gabrielle, Lucinda, Molly and Abby, they were all still alive, and standing.  Battered, bruised, but standing.  Brian and Margaret had also survived his fight.

It was Alfred who ran over to Catherine first.  “How did you do that?” he asked.  “How did you control the wolves?”

“They owed me a favor,” Catherine replied.  “Plus, I told them they could eat whatever they killed.”

Some of the group seemed a little repulsed by this comment, but Catherine simply surveyed the mountainside.  She turned to Carlyle.  “There are ten dead here on the slopes, and we put the rest to flight,” she said.  “Who knows how many the wolves will take before they’re done.  Father’s death has been avenged today.”

Carlyle looked out over the mountains, his grip finally loosening on the sword.  “It’s a good start ,” he answered.  “But we’re not done yet.  There are many more robbers still left in these mountains.”

Chapter 11: Assistance is Obtained (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version and this Gemini Chat.]

Chapter 11: Assistance is Obtained

Carlyle, Alfred, and Brian moved in grim silence, leaving the bodies in a tangled thicket on the mountainside. By the time they hauled the empty cart back home, the air had grown brittle.

Brian disappeared inside to find Margaret, but Carlyle caught Alfred’s arm, nudging him toward the path. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Where are we going?” Alfred scrambled to keep up as Carlyle’s stride lengthened.  

“To find the group,” Carlyle said.  “We’re going to need some help if we’re going to fight the robbers.  And clearly, we can’t rely on our parents to do anything.  We’re going to have to organize this ourselves.”

Alfred glanced back at the house. “Should we get Catherine?”

“If we go back in the house to get her, then we’re going to have to explain to the adults where we’re going,” Carlyle said.  “And then they’ll argue with us and tell us not to go.  We don’t have time for all of that.”

Alfred nodded, pulling his collar tight. The first few flakes of snow began to drift from the leaden sky, vanishing against the dark dirt.

**********************************

It had begun to snow again.

Catherine sat cross legged on the ground.  She was in one of the wooded sections of the mountains, surrounded by trees on all sides.  She looked at her hands.  She tried again to will the energy glow into being, but it wouldn’t come.  She could feel the energy inside of her.  Why wouldn’t it come out?

She closed her eyes.  She could feel something inside of her.  How could she connect with it? 

While she was concentrating, she began humming absentmindedly.  It was an old tune she had heard Finn sing sometimes.  Catherine didn’t even realize what she was doing until she opened her eyes and saw that her hands were glowing yellow again.  Catherine was so surprised that she stopped humming, and the yellow energy glow slowly faded out.  She started humming again.  The energy started returning to her hands.  She could see the glow start to grow bigger.

Catherine hummed louder.  There were now two big balls of energy forming in each of her palms.   She moved her hands.  The balls of energy moved with them. She continued humming.  The energy balls weren’t getting any bigger, but they did seem to be getting brighter now.  They were like little globs of light enclosed within her palm and her fingers.  They were also warm.  They melted the snow flakes that landed on them.

And Catherine smiled.  At last, at last she was beginning to control it.  Everything had been difficult for her lately, but at least now there was this.

And then, Catherine stopped humming, and began to whistle.  It was the whistle that Branoc had taught her. 

The whistling had the same effect on the energy balls that the humming did.  It seemed to nurture the energy and make it brighter.

Catherine whistled louder.  The mountainside was very quiet, the only sound was the falling snow, and the sound of Catherine’s whistling bouncing off of the trees.

After some time, a cawing sound from the air answered Catherine’s whistle, and there was a soft flapping sound, and Catherine looked over to see Branoc the raven landing on the ground near her.   She stopped whistling, and the yellow glowing energy disappeared.

“Greetings, young one,” said Branoc.  “I have come just as I promised I would.  Tell me how I can be of service to you.”

“I want to talk to the wolves,” Catherine said.  “But I don’t know where to find them.”

“People don’t usually worry about finding the wolves,” said Branoc.  “If you go for a walk in these mountains alone, the wolves usually find you.”

“Not me,” said Catherine.  “They are avoiding me now.”

“Why is that?” asked Branoc.

“They are afraid of my powers,” Catherine said.

Branoc cocked his head curiously.  “What powers?” he asked.

Catherine started humming again.  The yellow energy appeared back in her fingers.

“I see,” said Branoc.  “And what else can you do?”

“I’m not quite sure yet,” said Catherine.  “I’m still learning.”

Branoc nodded.  Then he said, “Are you sure you want to meet the wolves?  I do not want to see you come to any harm.”

“Do not worry about me.  I am sure.”

“Very well,” said Branoc, shaking his wings.  “I will find them for you.  I’ll fly around these mountains until I spot them.”

“Tell them to meet me here,” said Catherine.  “Tell them not to be afraid.  I will not hurt them.  Tell them I have an offer for them.”

And Branoc flew off.

***********************************

The teenagers weren't hard to find. They were gathered at the "Eagle’s Shelf," a flat stretch of rock halfway down the slope.  The group was huddled near a rocky overhang that shielded them from the wind. Carlyle saw them all—Lucas, Kevin, Marcus, Paul, Shawn, Stella, Gabrielle, Lucinda, Molly and Abby.  They were laughing about something Lucas had said, the sound echoing thin and bright in the mountain air until they saw Carlyle’s face.

Carlyle approached with a brisk, heavy stride, Alfred trailing like a shadow. The laughter died instantly. Marcus stood up, “What’s wrong?”  

“The robbers,” Carlyle said, his voice flat and hard. “They attacked our house. They killed my father. Alfred’s father is wounded. And they aren't finished. I think they’re going to come back and attack it again.”

Tragedy was not unheard of in the mountains, and it was not the first time this group of teenagers had heard reports of a violent death.  But this sudden announcement still shocked them.  They began talking excitedly, and everyone flooded Carlyle with questions.

Paul stepped forward, his eyes wide. "Are you okay?" 

Before Carlyle could answer, Abby broke in, “How did they get past your door?”

“What are you going to do?” asked Shawn.

“Why did they attack?” asked Molly.

It was this last question that Carlyle responded to first. “The first time they attacked our fathers on the road to rob them,” said Carlyle.  “The second time they attacked us in our house because they didn’t want to leave any survivors.  But now I think they will attack us again because they just want revenge.” 

“We killed three of them,” added Alfred.  “Catherine burned one of them to death.”

“Catherine!” exclaimed Gabrielle.  “How did she do that?”

Carlyle wished Alfred had kept quiet about Catherine.  He ignored Gabrielle’s question, and continued. “There were only five of them this morning, but they will be coming back with more,” said Carlyle.  “Maybe ten or twenty.  Alfred and I can’t fight them off alone, but with the whole group of us, we might just stand a chance.”

Lucas crossed his arms, looking at the fire. “But why should we help you?” he asked.

“Because,” said Carlyle patiently, “You’re not just helping me, you’re helping yourselves.  The next time the robbers attack, it could be your father on the mountain road.”

“But robbers don’t usually attack the mountain folk,” said Marcus.  “They usually just rob the people down in the forest, and then hide out in the mountains.”

“Maybe they’ve changed,” said Carlyle.  “They’ve attacked my family.  Your family could be next.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” said Lucas.

“If you’re not afraid of them, then prove it,” Carlyle said.  “Come and help me fight them.”

Shawn, the oldest of them, stood up. He had a way of standing that made the others go quiet. He looked at the grim set of Carlyle’s jaw and then at the rest of the group. “Carlyle, if your family is in danger, then of course we will help you.  That’s what we do.  The group helps each other.”

A ripple of nods went through the teenagers. Carlyle finally let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since the morning. “I knew I could count on you. Go home. Grab your bows, your knives—whatever you have. Meet at my house before the sun drops. We’re turning it into a fortress.”

************************************************************************************

As the snow fell harder, Catherine sat cross legged on the ground.  She was still humming to herself, and trying to focus the ball of energy.  Her eyes were closed.

Then, she heard the soft steps of the wolves' paws on the ground.  And she heard the panting of their mouths.   And she opened her eyes, and looked at them.

The lead wolf was approaching her cautiously.  He looked wary of her, but he also did not look completely subservient.  The wolves resented the fact that Catherine had summoned them.  That was plain enough to see on their faces.

“Why have you asked us here?” the wolf snarled.  “We do not owe you anything.  We have not attacked you.  The other witches leave us alone if we leave them alone.”

“I’m not one of the other witches,” Catherine said.

The lead wolf growled menacingly.  “If you are not one of the witches, then you are not under their protection.”

“I am not,” said Catherine, calmly.  “I have nothing to do with them.  They do not protect me,” Catherine held her hands out towards the wolves, “nor do they restrain me.”  Catherine started humming again, and her fingers glowed with yellow energy.

The wolves looked at her hands, curiously.  Then, after a few seconds’ silence, the lead wolf asked,  “What powers do you have?”

Catherine stood up suddenly.  The wolves all instinctively took a step back.  “If you touch me, you will find out,” Catherine said in a sharp voice.

The hair went up on the wolves’ back.  They were all growling now.

Catherine sat down again.  “But come,” she said, in a much calmer voice.  “I do not wish to fight.  I want us to be friends.  I want your help.”

“We are not your servants.”

“No, but I assure you, I will be a useful friend for you to have.  Moreover, I promise you that the task which I propose will not be one that is distasteful to you.  You like attacking humans, don’t you?”

Chapter 10: The Robbers Attack (Revised)

Google: docs, pub

[This is a revision of this earlier post and contains some revisions inspired by the Gemini Storybook version and this Gemini Chat.]

Chapter 10: The Robbers Attack

The mood at the breakfast table the next morning was somber.  Everyone was quiet as they ate their gruel.

Brian’s wound was feeling more painful on the second day.  Margaret put some more salve on it to try to stop it from getting infected, but it still hurt him to move. Margaret told him to stay in bed, and she brought his gruel over to him.  The beds were against the wall of the cave, so Brian propped his back up against the cave wall while he reclined on the bed. 

As for Margaret, she was trying to go on as normal, but everyone could see that she was not herself.  When she moved, she dragged herself around the room.  When she spoke, her voice was tinged with sadness.  

Catherine tried to clear her thoughts and eat her gruel, but she was also haunted by her thoughts.  She was still feeling upset about the strange energies that were flowing through her body, but now added to this original worry, she was trying to process the death of her father.  It felt like it was all too much to bear, and all through breakfast, Catherine kept her head down and avoided making eye-contact with anyone.

But Carlyle had moved past despair, and was now beginning to feel increasingly angry.  The previous night he had been in too much shock to feel much of anything.  But now that the reality of his father’s death was settling in, he was starting to feel angry--angry at what they had taken from him, angry that his father’s killers still walked the mountain with impunity, angry that this father’s death had not been avenged.

“It’s not right,” Carlyle burst out suddenly.

“What’s not right?” asked Alfred.

“It’s not right that they can kill a man and then just go back to their caves.  It’s not right that we sit here and eat our gruel do nothing.”

“What would you have us do?” called out Brian from where he was reclining on the bed.

“Something,” Carlyle said.  “Go over and fight them.  Stab them in the chest and see how they like it.  And take back my father’s sword.”

There was an awkward silence after this, and then Margaret said, “You know how your father would have felt about this.”

“He wouldn’t have wanted me to take any risks,” said Carlyle.  “That was how he lived his whole life.  And look where that got him.”

Margaret looked at Carlyle sadly.  “That was not how he lived his whole life,” she said.  “If you only knew the risks that he took…”

“Then why don’t you tell us,” Catherine interrupted.

“You’ll understand someday,” said Margaret.

“I understand enough,” said Carlyle.  “We sit in our house and cower and never fight back, and those robbers kill us whenever they like.  What have we got to lose by fighting back?”

“Fighting back with what?” asked Brian.  “They took your father’s sword.  Do you think you can just go and fight them with your bare hands?”

“We have other weapons around,” said Carlyle.  “We have the axes and the clubs, and the crossbow.”

“It’s no use arguing with him when he gets like this,” Margaret said to Brian.  “He just needs to blow off some steam and use up that energy first.  Then you can try to talk sense into him when he’s calmed down.”

She turned to Alfred and Carlyle next.  “We’ll need more wood if we are going to trade with the forest people again,” she said.  “Grab those axes you were just talking about, and go out and cut down some more trees.”

Carlyle and Alfred both stood up.  Carlyle grabbed the two axes from the cave wall and then walked to the door.  Alfred followed him.  Carlyle undid the first bar holding the door shut, and then the second one.  He opened the door, and saw five men standing at the doorway.

Carlyle tried to quickly shut the door again, but the men outside pushed back against the door with such force that the door swung back and knocked Carlyle to the ground.  Then, all five of them pushed their way into the house, their silhouettes jagged against the morning light..

“Well, you kept us waiting a long time,” one of the five chuckled.  “Mountain folk are supposed to wake up earlier than that.  I hope you enjoyed that nice long breakfast.”

Carlyle scrambled back up to his feet.  The men pointed their swords at him threateningly, and he backed himself up against the wall.  

One of the other men pointed at Brian.  “You were right Zed,” he said to the first one who had spoken.  “That’s him alright.”

“I told you that it was the same cart outside,” said Zed.  Zed looked over at Brian.  “Well, well, we meet again,” he said.  “You gave us quite a run yesterday.”

“What do you want,” Brian said.  “You already got everything from our cart.”

“We don’t like to leave any loose ends,” Zed said. “You might want to come back one day and avenge your friend’s death.  We can’t have that.   We also can’t leave behind any children who might want to avenge their father.”  Zed waved his sword at all of them as he spoke.

Catherine and Carlyle’s eyes immediately went to the sword.  “That’s my father’s sword,” said Catherine.

“Don’t worry, girl,” said Zed.  “You’ll be joining him soon enough.”

“Give us back my father’s sword,” said Carlyle.

The robbers just laughed.  “You don’t seem to realize what’s going on here,” said Zed.  

“Let’s get on with it, Zed,” said one of the robbers irritably.  “What’s worth taking here?”

“Strip all the iron from the doors,” said Zed.  “We can resell that.  Take the axes, and any other weapons you can find.  And take all the food.  We’ll need it with winter coming.”

“And what about them?” the man asked.

“Start killing them now,” Zed said.  He held out his sword towards Brian.  “Starting with him.”  Zed started walking towards Brian.

“Give me back my father’s sword,” said Carlyle, stepping toward Zed.

As soon as Carlyle stepped forward, Zed abruptly changed direction and turned away from Brian and  towards Carlyle.  He swung his sword at Carlyle, but it was a wild swing, intended only to keep Carlyle at bay.  Carlyle instinctively jumped backwards nonetheless.  The sword made a whooshing sound as it cut through the air.  

While Zed was turned to face Carlyle, Catherine rushed forward and tried to get the sword.  She grabbed at the wrist of Zed’s sword hand with her left hand, and with her right hand she grabbed onto the sword’s handle, and tried to yank it away from Zed. Zed tried to hit her with his free hand, but then Alfred rushed over and grabbed that arm.  Now Catherine had hold of one of Zed’s arms, and Alfed was hanging onto the other.  Zed struggled to free himself from the two teenagers, but they held on tenaciously, and when he couldn’t pull himself free, he kicked at them with his legs.   Alfred and Catherine kicked back, and the three of them grappled and kicked and clawed as both Catherine and Alfred tried to pry the sword out of Jed’s hands.  

“Catherine, no!  Catherine, stop it!” Margaret screamed.  

Two other robbers came forward to help Zed, but Carlyle blocked their way.  Carlyle had picked up one of the axes from the floor, and he started swinging it at the robbers.  Even though they were armed with swords, Carlyle swung with such ferocity that he was able to keep these two robbers at bay.  They retreated slightly, fending off Carlyle’s ax swings with their swords, and waiting for him to get tired.

While all this was going on, Brian managed to reach over from his bed and grab the crossbow and the sack of arrows from where they were hanging on the wall.   The crossbow was still singed black from when Catherine had accidently set it on fire, but Brian didn’t have time to notice this.  He fumbled around with one of the arrows, and managed to fit it into the crossbow just in time.  Just as one of the robbers was running at Brian with his sword raised, Brian was able to fire the arrow off.  It lodged into the man’s breast, and the man immediately dropped to the floor. Brian then grabbed another arrow, and tried to get it fitted into the crossbow.  

While this was happening, Catherine and Alfred were still grappling with Zed over the sword.  Margaret had by this time stopped yelling at Catherine to stop.  For one thing, it was obvious that Catherine was ignoring her.  But for another thing, Margaret realized that it was too late for Catherine to stop.  The moment Catherine would loosen up her grip on Zed’s arms, Zed would slash at them with her sword. So Margaret decided that the best way to help her daughter was to join in the struggle.  She stepped forward and tried to help Catherine and Alfred restrain.  It looked strange to see Margaret’s wrinkled arms joining in the fight, but just like her late husband Finn, Margaret was surprisingly tough for her age.  

“Just keep calm, Catherine,” Margaret said.  “Don’t lose control, Catherine.  I’m here to help.  Everything is going to be alright.”

But just as Margaret was saying this, another robber grabbed her from behind and pulled her off of Zed. In fact, he pulled Margaret off with such force that she was flung backwards into the kitchen shelf.  The force of Margaret’s old body hitting the shelf caused all the clay plates and cups to fall and shatter on the floor. The robber then drew his knife from his sheath, and ran at Margaret.  Margaret grabbed his arm and held the knife at bay.  She was tough for an old woman.

“Mother!” Catherine yelled out.  Catherine wanted to help her mother, but she still couldn’t let go of Zed’s arms. “Leave my mother alone!” Catherine screamed.

It was at this point that Catherine felt the energy inside her suddenly begin to surge.  The shock of seeing her mother attacked had caused Catherine to panic, and the panic had triggered the energy.  It was becoming too big.  It had to come out.  Catherine didn’t think she could stop it now even if she wanted to.  But she also didn’t want to.  She wanted to release that terrible energy.  She wanted to get it out of her body.  She was also angry enough at the robbers that she didn’t care what happened to them.

The energy welled up in Catherine.  She shut her eyes briefly as she contemplated what she was about to do.  Then she opened her eyes, and turned her head abruptly to Alfred.  “Let go,” Catherine said.

Alfred didn’t understand.  Why would Catherine tell him to let go?  They needed both of them to try to hold Zed back.  But then Alfred felt Zed’s body suddenly become hot, and he quickly let go as he jumped backwards.

Zed screamed in pain. He dropped the sword.  He jerked backwards, and tried to free himself from Catherine’s grip.  But Catherine grabbed onto Jed with both hands, and tightened her grip. 

Zed’s screaming was so loud it shocked everyone in the room.  Everyone stopped what they were doing, and looked.  The robber that was fighting Margaret stopped trying to attack her, and just looked with horror at what was happening to Zed.  Margaret was also horrified.  “Catherine, no!”  she yelled.

Zed kept screaming.  Catherine closed her eyes and let the energy flow through her.  It felt surprisingly good.  For the past few days she had been struggling to keep the energy contained when it didn’t want to be contained.  It felt like an amazing relief to let it all out.

And then, Zed’s body burst into flames.  He was still alive--he was still screaming and writhing, as Catherine gripped him tight, but flames were now shooting out from his skin.  Catherine, however, did not seem to be bothered by the flames.

The fighting in the rest of the house had come to a complete stop.  Everyone was now watching.

“Catherine, stop it!” Margaret yelled.  She approached Catherine and tried to pull her off of Zed, but Margaret found the heat from the fire was too hot for her, and she had to step back. 

Zed’s whole body was now  in flames.  His screaming was becoming more and more high pitched, and his voice was filled with pain.  Everyone cringed at the sound of that pitiful voice.  Everyone, that is, except Catherine.

The smell of burning flesh was filling the room.  It was now obvious to everyone that it was too late to try to save Zed.  The only humane thing to do was to put him out of his misery.

Brian had by this time managed to fit another arrow into the crossbow.  He stood up, and walked over.  He leveled the crossbow at Zed’s chest.  Brian’s hand was shaking.  He wasn’t a nervous man by nature, but the agonizing sounds of Zed’s screams had unnerved him.  Brian gripped the crossbow with both hands, and tried to steady himself.  He fired the arrow, and the arrow buried itself into Zed’s chest.  Zed’s screaming stopped. and his head slumped down to his chest.

Catherine, seeming to come to her senses, released her hold on Zed’s arms.  The burning body fell limply to the ground.  Catherine looked down at the body, and began to wonder what had just happened.

The three remaining robbers looked at Catherine.  At first their eyes were filled with fear, but quickly the look changed to hate.

“She killed Zed!” one of them yelled angrily.  “That little witch killed Zed!”

“We’ll make her pay,” another one said.

“She can’t hurt us if she can’t touch us,” the third one said.  “Slice her up with your swords, and don’t let her near enough to grab you.”

Catherine looked up from the burning body, and stared at the remaining robbers.  There was no fear in her eyes.  Balls of glowing yellow energy formed in the palms of her hands. 

Meanwhile Brian frantically fiddled with the crossbow and tried to put another arrow in place while Carlyle darted down to pick up his father’s sword from the ground.  

“I see you have your father’s sword again,” one of the robbers said mockingly.  “Now let’s see if you can use it.”

The robbers rushed forward with their swords.  Two of them rushed straight for Carlyle.  He managed to parry both of their blades.  Another robber pointed his sword at Catherine, and rushed at her.  Alfred, who had picked up one of the axes now, rushed to Catherine’s defense and hacked at the robber with the ax.  The robber turned his sword to parry Aflred’s blow, while the robber left his side unguarded and this allowed Catherine to dart forward and grab hold of his arm.  Catherine felt the energy well up inside here again.  She closed her eyes.

But before Catherine could release the energy, she felt herself being pulled backwards by her mother.  “No Catherine,” Margaret said calmly, but firmly.  “You don’t want to do that.  Let the others handle the fighting.”

“They need me!” Catherine insisted.

“They can do it,” Margaret said.

Brian had by this time succeeded in getting another arrow fitted into the crossbow.  He pointed and shot, killing the robber that Alfred was fighting.   

That left the last two robbers, who Carlyle was still fighting against.  It was two against one, but Carlyle was fighting like he was possessed.  All of the anger about his father’s death was coming out now, and Carlyle was swinging his sword with all of his might.  Instead of gaining ground against Carlyle, the two found themselves slowly backing away before the onslaught of his furious sword.

Then, Alfred joined in, hacking the ax at them.

Meanwhile, Brian was busy fumbling around with the crossbow, trying to load another arrow into it.

And it was at this point that the last two remaining robbers turned and ran out the doorway.

Carlyle was too exhausted to run after them.  He had been swinging with his sword furiously during the whole fight, and he was completely out of breath. As soon as the robbers left, Carlyle collapsed on the floor and tried to catch his breath

All of them were too exhausted to pursue the robbers.  Now that the danger was over, Brian’s legs began to buckle, and Margaret had to steady him and helped him to the bed

The flames on Zed’s dead body were slowly dying out now.

“What happened?” asked Brian.  Brian initially directed his question at Catherine, but Catherine stayed silent and looked at the ground.  So Brian turned to Margaret.  “What happened?” he asked again.

“In all the confusion and excitement,” Margaret said slowly, “It’s hard to tell what exactly happened.  There was some fighting.  You were occupied defending yourself against one of the robbers.  And while you were distracted, I think Zed might have accidentally gotten too near to the fireplace.”

“But the fireplace is all the way over there,” said Brian.

“The door was wide open this whole time,” said Margaret.  “Usually we keep it bolted shut, but when it’s wide open, it has a strange way of sucking the air out of the cave.  I think some of the sparks from the fire must have gotten caught in the wind, and landed on Zed’s clothes.  Then, once Zed caught fire, Catherine held his arms so that he couldn’t put himself out, and the fire enveloped him.”

Brian stared at Margaret.  He was looking at her face carefully, as if he was seeing Margaret for the first time.  Then he spoke slowly, “I’m not so sure that’s what happened.”

“I’m sure we all have different memories of things,” Margaret said.  “It was a traumatic event, and things happened so fast, we’re bound to have slightly different interpretations of what we saw.  Who can be sure about anything?”

Brian nodded, but his face looked skeptical.

Catherine kept silent.

“The important thing,” said Margaret, looking around the room and making eye contact with Alfred, Brian and Carlyle in turn, “is that we don’t want to spread rumors among the mountain folk if we aren’t sure of what happened.  So we shouldn’t talk about it outside this room.”

Margaret waited for an acknowledgement, and after a moment’s pause, Alfred, Brian and Carlyle all nodded their heads.

“We’ve got bigger things to worry about anyway,” Brian mumbled.  “Two of them got away.  That means they’ll be back with more of their gang.  And if they come back with 20 or 30 of them, we won’t be able to fight them off.  We can’t stay here any longer.  We’ll need to change houses.  We can stay at my house.  It’s not as sturdy as yours, but the robbers don’t yet know where I live.”

“What happens when they find your house?” asked Carlyle.

“Then we’ll move again,” said Brian.  “Or they’ll kill us all.  One or the other.”

“When do we start fighting back?” Carlyle asked.  “We don’t have to just let ourselves be attacked.  We can resist.  You saw what happened just now when we fought back.”

“That was against 5 men,” said Brian.  “There must be over 100 robbers on this mountain.  You can’t fight them all.”

“Not by myself,” said Carlyle.  “But if we get all the mountain folk together, we might have a chance.  It’s better than just waiting for them to kill us.”

Brian snorted.  “You think you can organize these mountain folk to do anything?  Then you go ahead and be my guest!”

“The first thing we need to do,” said Margaret sharply, “is get rid of these dead bodies.  I don’t want them sitting in this house a moment longer.  And we don’t want to leave them just outside the door either.  It’ll just be a signal to any robbers passing by.”

“We can throw them in among the trees,” Brian said.  “The wolves will find the dead bodies soon enough.”

“Help the boys take them,” Margaret said.  “Catherine and I will stay behind and try to clean up the house.”

Carlyle and Alfred took the three dead bodies outside, including the burned body, and loaded them onto the cart.  Brian supervised them.

As soon as the boys had left the house, Margaret immediately felt Catherine’s eyes on her.

“Catherine, you have to trust me,” said Margaret.  “When the time is right, I will tell you everything you need to know.  But your time has not yet come.  And for your own protection, there are certain things that I must keep from you until the time is right.” 

Margaret stopped, and analyzed Catherine’s face to see how she was reacting to all this.  But Catherine did not react.  Her face was simply passive, as if she had resigned herself to the fact that Margaret would not help her. So Margaret continued.  “And there are also certain things that even I do not understand.  So there will be some questions I will never be able to answer.”

“It felt good,” Catherine said quietly.  “Letting that energy flow through me, letting it all come out, it felt…” Catherine paused and searched for the right word to describe the euphoric feeling that had flooded through her when she had released the magic.  But being unable to think of a suitable word, she just finished, “it felt good.”

Margaret took a deep breath, and let the air out slowly.  Catherine could hear a tremor in Margaret’s breath.  “Catherine, it must be controlled.  You cannot let it out like that.  For one thing, if word of your abilities spreads, it will soon enough bring unwanted attention from those I have done my best to hide you from.”  Catherine opened her mouth to ask a question, but Margaret anticipated it, and held up her hand to silence Catherine.  “It’s not yet time for me to tell you everything.  But secondly, listen to me Catherine, secondly you must not get into the habit of letting that energy out.  It will start to control you.”

“The energy is inside me now,” Catherine said.  “I didn’t want it, I didn’t summon it, but it’s there.  And it wants to come out.  And I don’t think I can control it even if I wanted to.”

“You remember the herb I gave you?” Margaret said.

“That herb makes me feel terrible,” Catherine said.  “I don’t want to poison myself.”

“It’s important to keep the energy under control,” Margaret said.  “Don’t let the energy control you.  The herb will help you.  I’m sorry, but I can give you no more guidance than this.  I do not have the energy myself, and unfortunately I did not anticipate that you would inherit it.  For now, just do everything you can to stop it, and maybe someday you’ll learn to control it.”

Catherine looked down at her hands.  Now that the excitement was over, and her heart rate had calmed down, there was no yellow glow coming from her palms anymore.  Catherine tried to will it back, but she found she could not.

Catherine looked back up at her mother.  “Do you understand, Catherine?” Margaret asked.

“I don’t understand any of this,” Catherine said.  And she turned around and walked away before Margaret could say anything more.

****************************************

Gemini Storybook created some images for this chapter. In the case of this chapter, the images that Gemini Storybook created are different enough from the original text that I'm not going to bother uploading them here. You can view them here if you wish. You can see that they are certainly inspired by this chapter, but at the same time they are depicting different events.