I posted this over on the main blog.  I should probably post it over here as well just to keep both blogs updated.  This is a fairly good summary of where I've been at with the story the past couple years, and where I'm going from here:

tl;dr I'm going to stop posting my story on this blog, and will only post it on its own blog.

The Long Version

A couple years ago, I made the decision to move my story from its own blog (The Castle in the Magic Forest) over to my main blog here.

I've now decided that this was one of my less inspired decisions, and so I'm going to go back to only posting my story over at its own blog.  At least for now.

When I initially decided to start moving my story over to this blog in 2021, the idea was that I was done fooling around with writing aimlessly, and I was ready to start working seriously on a polished second draft.  

As I said at the time:

I've now decided to go ahead and start writing that second draft.  And because the whole point of this second draft is that it's supposed to be readable by other people, I'm going to start posting those chapters here on this blog. 

But "second draft" was always a misnomer on my part.  It wasn't the second draft.  It was actually the first draft of the backstory. 

In my original story, the characters of Catherine and Carlyle were 65 years old, and the main story was about their children and grandchildren.  But as I was writing that story, I gradually began to realize that there was a lot of backstory to the older characters, and that it might make the story less confusing if I just went back to the beginning and tried to tell it all chronologically.  So when I decided to go back and write about Catherine and Carlyle when they were 15, I was moving the timeline back 50 years from everything I had written previously, and was essentially creating a whole new story.  

[I know I'm on record as saying prequels are awful--see, for example, HERE and HERE--but I think going back to explore the backstory while you're still writing is different.  Since the narrative is still in the process of being formed, you can, in theory, still smooth out the continuity so that everything fits together.  And in fact there are a lot of great novels in which the author realized somewhere along the line that the backstory was more interesting than the story--War and Peace, for example, or To Kill a Mockingbird.  

I'm not comparing my story to those novels, I'm just trying to establish some precedents for a general principle: writing a prequel to an existing story is a bad idea, but developing the backstory of a work in progress can sometimes be a good idea.]

So anyway, I wasn't polishing up an existing story into a second draft, instead I was writing the first draft of a something new.  But despite this, there was supposed to have been a difference in the writing style.  In the original story, I was literally making it up as I went along.  When I sat down to write my 15 minutes each night, I had no idea what I was going to write, and I just formed the story as I typed.

With the new backstory, though, it was supposed to be different.  I was actually going to plan out the whole thing, and have character arcs and a story structure.  And in that sense, it was supposed to be more presentable than the original story.  

I was inspired by one of Steve Donoghue's videos on writing, in which he said that if you're going to spend the time writing something, you might as well make a story that can be presented to other people.  The original story, because I was making it up as I went along, had a number of plot threads that were set up but not followed through.  But this time, I was going to plot it all out carefully.

At least that was the idea.  But it didn't quite work out that way.  I wanted to plan everything out in minute detail before I started writing the backstory (i.e. chapter by chapter, scene by scene), but I couldn't do it.  I sat down at the computer screen, and I just couldn't visualize the story in that much detail before I started writing it.  I needed to actually write the thing before I had a feeling of how it was going to go.  So I made a rough outline of the intended plot, but rough is all I was able to do.

Also it became apparent as I wrote that I didn't have a clear idea of the pacing.  Things that I initially planned to do in three chapters ended up taking me nine chapters.

On December 18, 2021, I realized my mistake, and switched the name from "the second draft" to "the first draft".  (The original story I then re-christened the "zero draft").

As I wrote at the time:

I've decided to do a bit of renaming on my drafts.  I'd been calling the draft I've been posting on this blog a second draft, but I've decided that's not really an accurate description.  It's more of a first draft on the backstory.  All the story in it I'm working through for the first time.

Plus, my so-called "first draft" isn't really a serious draft.  It's more just playing around (what Steve Donoghue refers to in his video as being a Pantsers).  So I've decided to re-name the so-called first draft as the "zero draft".  And the so-called second draft is now the "first draft".

Then, in April of 2023, I went a step further and admitted that this draft wasn't ready for feedback yet, and I probably shouldn't even be posting it.  As I wrote at the time:

The prose and story is all still quite rough at the moment.  When posting the previous - chapters, I  - had - solicited - feedback from the readers of this blog.  But I've now decided that this was premature.  This story is still in its rough draft phase.  It's not ready for feedback yet.  Maybe I might get to the point where I'm ready to ask for feedback, but not yet.  

Arguably I shouldn't even be posting it yet.  (Most writers don't share their work when it's still so rough.)  But having started, I may as well keep going.  But now the purpose of sharing these rough draft chapters is just to let readers of this blog can see what I'm up to rather than to solicit feedback.

But after writing that bit, the quality of my writing has even further deteriorated.   

As I wrote in my notes for Chapter 8:

I wrote a lot of this while sleep deprived.  The basic outline of what I want to happen is there, but the prose is not.  Need to rewrite

And then more recently in my notes for Chapter 15: 

Yet another chapter that was mostly written when I was sleep deprived.  It needs some serious re-writing at some point to get it readable.

Now, to answer the obvious question: what am I doing writing when I'm sleep deprived instead of just going to bed?

And the answer is, I don't dare miss a day.  If I miss a day, I'll miss 6 months.  I know this from experience.  Oh, I’ll tell myself I’m only missing one day.  I’ll say to myself, “I’m tired tonight, and it’s been a long day.  I’ll just give myself one day off and then I’ll get right back into it tomorrow.”  But then the next day, I’ll say to myself, “Well, I already broke my writing streak by missing one day.  I'll just take another day off as well."  It happens every time--see HERE and HERE for past examples.  

So it doesn't matter how tired I am or how sleep deprived I am--if I haven't written my 10 minutes for the day, I don't let myself go to sleep until I sit down and write it.

But since I'm working 3 jobs and have two young kids, I'm always busy.  And because, like all writers, I procrastinate on my writing and leave it till the last possible minute, I'm always writing it right before bed, when I'm feeling sleepy.  Some days extremely sleepy.  And it's very hard to write anything that makes sense.

[As to the other obvious question--why am I doing this at all given that I obviously find it such hard work--well, I've wrestled with that question before on this blog--HERE, HERE and HERE, so I won't go through all that again now. ]

I still believe that crappy first drafts can have some value in a story's evolution.  (The prose may not be salvageable, but you can still get an idea of the pacing, the plot points, potential problems and plot holes, etc.)  So I'm going to keep pressing ahead.  But still, it's not the kind of thing you should be sharing with a lot of people.

If this is going to be just a crappy first draft that I write while mostly sleep deprived, and that is going to be mostly unreadable, then there's no need to post it here on the main blog.  I'll just keep working on it over at the other blog instead. 

I'm not hiding it completely.  If you want to follow my progress, you can still go to https://thecastleinthemagicforest.blogspot.com/.  But it just doesn't make sense to show this story prominently on my main blog if this is the state it's going to be in.

When I get to the third draft stage (if I ever get to the third draft stage) then I'll start posting the story over here on my main blog again. 

Chapter 15: In the Goblin Caves

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The wolves had made themselves quite happy in the biggest cave.  They had been used to sleeping out on the cold snowy ground, but the cave offered sufficient protection from the elements.  The stone floor was hard, but Catherine had taken some of the quilts and blankets from the robbers’ treasures, and spread them out for the wolves to lie down on.  Seldom had the wild beasts had such luxury, and they stretched out happily on the blankets and went to sleep.

The robbers slept in the other four caves.  But Catherine and Alfred opted to sleep in the same cave as the wolves.  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in the same caves as the robbers?” Balsamer the raven asked.  “I thought the whole point was to keep an eye on them.” 

“We don’t want to push things too fast just yet,” said Catherine.  “For the first couple nights, it will be enough to just be in their camp.  Once they get used to us, then we can start sleeping in their caves.”

“You don’t need to worry about a thing,” Branoc said to Catherine.  “My children and I will keep watch for you all night.  If any danger approaches, we’ll wake you up.”

“You have my gratitude,” said Catherine. 

“My family is forever in your debt,” Branoc said, spreading out his wings and lowering his head, which is a bird’s way of bowing.

“Okay, for the first night then, let’s try it like this,” Catherine said.  “We’ll have the ravens at the entrance of the cave keeping guard.  I’ll sleep near the entrance of the cave with the wolves.  That way, if the robbers do decide to break their promise and attack in the middle of the night, the ravens can wake me up, and I can gather the wolves and organize a defense.  Alfred, you sleep behind the wolves, towards the back of the cave.  It’ll be safer back there.”

“I should be the one sleeping at the front of the cave,” said Alfred.  “I’m the man.”

“You’re a boy,” Catherine said.  “You’re younger than me.”

It was getting dark, so Catherine couldn’t technically see Alfred’s cheeks going red with anger, but she could read his expression clearly enough.  The barb had hit home.  

“Besides,” said Catherine, “you don’t control the wolves.  They won’t listen to you if you tell them to attack.”

“But I can still sleep up at the front with you.  I don’t need to hide at the back.”

“It’s not hiding.  It’s strategy. If, by some chance, the robbers do manage to rush in and grab me before I have a chance to wake up, then we don’t want them grabbing both of us at once.  We want you further back so you have a chance to wake up before they get to you.  That way you can rescue me.”

“I guess when you put it that way, it does make some sense,” Alfred admitted, and he went off towards the back of the cave.

Then they all went to sleep.

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

And so it happened that in the middle of the night Alfred was sleeping soundly near the back of the cave when they came for him. By the time Alfred realized what was happening, it was already too late.  He tried to scream, but his mouth was already being gagged.  He tried to kick at the creatures and fight back, but he found that his legs had already been bound.  Alfred squirmed and wriggled, but it was no use.  There were too many of them.  There must have been about fifty.  They dragged him down, down into the hidden tunnels, far below the cave.  

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

As for Catherine, she slept soundly all through the night, and she only woke at dawn once the wolves began to stir.  As the wolves stretched and yawned and barked at the rising sun, Catherine also woke up with them.  

“Good morning,” said Branoc.  “You have slept well.”

Catherine rubbed her eyes.  “I did,” she admitted.  

“And it was just as well,” said Branoc.  “For there was no reason for you to be awake.  The night has passed completely without incident.”

“No one attempted to enter the cave?” Catherine asked.

“No one.  None of the robbers tried to attack you.  And none of the other monsters from the mountains approached either.”

“Yes, it sounds like the robbers have been paying them off,” said Catherine.  “That probably explains why they don’t get bothered.  Okay, let me wake Alfred up then, and we’ll see about making some breakfast.”

But when Catherine went to the back of the cave, Alfred was nowhere to be seen.

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

When Alfred next awoke, he was in the tunnels.

He sat up and looked around.  It should have been dark in the tunnels, but surprisingly there was enough light to see.  Several of the rocks in the tunnel walls were glowing.

A voice came from behind him.  “Alfred, is that you?”

Alfred turned around and saw a boy about his age.  His face was dirty, his hair was unkempt and his clothes were ragged and torn.  He was staring at Alfred intently.

“Yes, my name’s Alfred.  But who are you?”

“Don’t you recognize me?”

In fact, Alfred probably should have recognized the boy at this point.  But sometimes it can be hard to recognize even a familiar face when you are not expecting to see them.  And Alfred had not expected to see this particular face ever again.

“It’s me,” the boy said.  “Jack.”

And suddenly, Alfred recognized him.  “Jack!” he exclaimed.  “Jack, but how are you still… I mean, everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Do they?” said Jack.  

“Well, you wandered off by yourself one day, and you never came back.  We just assumed you’d been killed and eaten by some of the beasts on the mountain.”

Jack thought for a moment, and then nodded his head.  “Yes, I suppose that makes sense.  I’d probably think the same thing if I were them.”

“But you’re not dead,” Alfred said excitedly.  “You’re here.  And…”  Alfred stopped and looked around him.  “Where is here, anyway?  Where are we?”

“We are underground, in the goblin tunnels,” said Jack sadly.  “It looks like the goblins have captured you too?”

“I guess so,” said Alfred.  “It was too dark for me to see them.  But something dragged me off.  Somethings, I mean.”

“There were a lot of them, then?” Jack asked.

“Yes.  They had hands and feet just like a human, but they were small, like a little child.”

“Yes, those were the goblins all right,” Jack said.  

“So how did they catch you?” asked Alfred.

Jack sighed.  “Well, as you know, I decided to take a walk by myself.  I was feeling a little bit sick of the group.  Lucas was being obnoxious, as usual, and Molly was talking a lot of nonsense, as usual, and I thought I’d just take a walk by myself to clear my head.  I knew that I shouldn’t go off by myself, but I told myself that it would only be for a little bit, and besides it was still the middle of the day, so I thought it was safe.  But as I was walking, I saw a little goblin sitting on a tree.  I remember he was sitting there just looking at me.  There was only one of them, so I didn’t think too much of it.  I mean, the goblins are so small, that I didn’t think it was frightening when I just saw one of them.  So I kept walking.  But that was my mistake.  I should have ran back the moment I saw him.  The thing about goblins is that there’s never just one of them.  If you see one goblin looking at you, it means that there are fifty more goblins that you can’t see, hiding behind the trees or under the rocks.  And sure enough, as I kept walking, I saw another goblin standing on the ground in front of me, and then a bit further down I saw two more, and by the time I realized I was surrounded, it was too late.  You see, the goblins fight by swarming.”

“Swarming?”

“Yes, you see, if there was just one goblin, you’d be able to fight it pretty easily.  I mean, you’d have to be a little bit careful.  They do have sharp pointy teeth, so they can do some damage if they bite you.  And they have little sharp swords that they carry, so you don’t want to let them stab you.  But generally speaking, assuming the goblin doesn’t sneak up on you from behind or something, if you have a human with a sword fighting against a goblin, the human has a very good chance.  But the problem is they never attack you one on one.  If there’s only one of them, they’ll just run away.  They only attack when there’s about fifty of them together.  And then at that point, you don’t stand a chance.  They just swarm you, and either stab you to death with their short swords, or, in our case, they drag you down into their mines.”

“Ah,” said Alfred.  “Is that where we are now?  In the goblin mines?”

“That’s right,” said Jack.  “I’ve been here for two years now, I think.”

“And why have they captured us?  What do they want with us?”

“They want to make us dig, of course.”

“Dig for what?”

“For whatever we can find.  Gold, silver, diamonds, jewels.  There’s loads of gold in these mountains.  Did you know that?  I never knew that before.”

“I didn’t know that either,” Alfred replied.

“It’s funny when you think about it,” Jack said.  “All those trips that the robbers make down to the forest to steal stuff, and all the time there’s all this gold right underneath their feet, but they never know it.”  Jack gave a little laugh, but then he became serious again.  “Of course,” Jack added, “someone has to dig for it.  That’s what we’re for.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you think the goblins captured us?  It’s because they need children to work in  their mines.  We do the hard work of digging.”

“Who is we?”

“All of us.  All of the children.”

Alfred looked around him.

“They’re not here now,” Jack explained.  “But there are several more children in these caves.  Maybe about twenty of us altogether.”

“Twenty?  But where do they come from? There haven’t been twenty children who have gone missing.  You were the only one who disappeared.”

“Anna is here as well,” Jack said.  “Do you remember  Anna?  I had practically forgotten about her myself until I met her down here.”

“Anna,” Alfred said slowly, trying to remember.

“She disappeared when we were five years old.  At the time, people said the wolves must have gotten her.”

“Ah, that’s right,” said Aflred, the memories flooding back to him from the vague mists of early childhood.  “I think I do remember that now.”

“But I think the rest of the children are from the forest people,” Jack continued.

“What are the forest people doing up here in the mountains?”

“The goblin tunnels go everywhere,” Alfred said.  “They go all the way down to the forest, and they run under the forest lands.  So the goblins can steal a child from the forest and bring them into the mines just like they can take one of us.”

Alfred looked around him again.  “It’s pretty quiet here,” he said.  “And so far, just the two of us.  Where are the other children?  Where are all the goblins?  And why is it light inside these tunnels?”

“The light comes from the moonstones,” said Jack, answering the last question first.

“Moonstones?”

“Yes,” said Jack, pointing to one of the stones that was glowing.  “If you put these stones outside under the sky in the light of a full moon, they’ll absorb the moon’s light, and keep glowing for a full month afterwards.  Goblins can see perfectly in the dark, so they don’t need them.  But we do.  And the goblins know that it’s no good sending us into the mines to search for gold or diamonds if we can’t see what we’re looking for.  So they keep everything lit up with the moonstones.”

“I see.”

“As for the other children, they’re still eating their breakfast.”

“The goblins feed you?” 

“It’s not great food,” Jack admitted.  “It’s tasteless gruel, but it does give us energy to work in the mines.”

“And why aren’t you eating with them?” Alfred asked.

“I was sent by the goblins to fetch you,” Jack said.  “They told me they had left a new boy lying in the tunnel, and they wanted  me to get you and bring you down to the others.”

Chapter 14: Carlyle Comes Home

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  The day had been a long one.  They had spent the day creating an inventory of all the goods, treasures and food that the robbers had stashed away in their caves.  But now it was late in the afternoon, and everyone in the mountains knew the one unbreakable rule: It was deadly to be caught out after the sun goes down.  They had to start thinking about shelter for the night.

“I hope Mother is alright,” said Carlyle.  “We’ve been away all day.”  Carlyle was ashamed to admit it, but he’d been so caught up in everything that he had hardly thought about his mother all day.

“She’s fine,” said Catherine, confidently.

“How do you know?” asked Carlyle.

“I’ve been getting regular reports all day,” said Catherine, gently petting one of the ravens on her shoulder.

“Oh, of course,” Carlyle said.  “I forgot about those birds.”

“Your father is perfectly safe as well,” Catherine said, turning to Alfred.  “In fact, he’s with our mother now.  They’ve been eating supper together.”

“Is he still angry at me?” Alfred asked.

“My raven friends can’t tell what he is thinking,” Catherine replied.  “They only report to me what his movements are.”

“I bet he’s still angry with me,” Alfred said.  “He was furious when I joined you in the battle yesterday.  We had a huge argument last night, and then this morning, I snuck out before he woke up.”

“You’re welcome to stay in the caves tonight with us,” said Catherine.

“Yeah, thanks.  I think I will,” Alfred responded.

“I’m not sure it’s a smart idea to stay in the caves,” said Carlyle.  “I don’t trust the robbers.”

“Neither do I,” said Catherine.  “That’s why I’m staying here.  We need to keep a close eye on them.  Now that the robbers have surrendered to us, it would be a mistake to go away and leave them by themselves.”

“Fine, keep a close eye on them in the daytime,” said Carlyle.  “If you go to sleep next to them, they’ll cut your throat while you sleep.”

“My wolves will protect me,” Catherine said.

“Will they?” asked Carlyle.  “Or are your wolves just as likely to turn on you once you’re asleep.”

“The wolves are too afraid of me to try anything,” said Catherine.  “And also, right now they’re very pleased with their new den in the caves, and the soft quilts and blankets that they are sleeping on.  And, I might add, they didn’t say no to all the food that was given to them. They often make a big deal of talking about how they like to hunt and catch all their own food, but when the food was placed in front of them, they didn’t say no.  So the wolves are beginning to realize that I can have great value to them.  And even if it turns out that I can’t rely on my wolves, I can at least count on the ravens to keep watch and to alert me before danger arrives.”

“We are delighted to serve,” said Branoc, bowing his head.  “I and my children will keep guard through the night while you sleep.  Ravens can see in the dark much better than humans can, so you’ll be safe with us.”

“I still don’t like it,” said Carlyle.  “But I can see that your mind is made up.  Very well then.”  Carlyle turned to Alfred.  “Alfred, you don’t have to stay here,” he said.  “You can stay at my place if you’re worried about your father.”

“Didn’t you hear?” Alfred said with a smile.  “My father’s at your place.”

“He’s probably not going to stay the whole night,” Carlye said.

“I’d just avoid seeing him for now,” Alfred said.  “Besides, I’d like to stay and help Catherine and the others.”

“Which others are staying?” asked Carlyle.

“Shawn, Gabrielle, Kevin and Stella have agreed to stay with us in the caves for the night,” Catherine said.   

“That leaves Lucas, Marcus, Paul, Lucinda, Molly and Abby,” Carlyle said.  “I’ll see if they’re ready to go.”

Everyone on the mountain understood that they should never walk anywhere alone.  Bad things happened to children who walked off alone, such as Jack, who had once been their playmate, before he had walked off alone one day, and never came back.

Carlyle walked down with the group until they got near his house, then he said goodbye to them and ranthe short distance to his house.

He knocked on the door.  “It’s me,” he yelled through the wood.

He heard someone removing the barriers, but as the door was moved away, Carlyle saw Brian’s bearded face instead of his mother.

Carlyle nodded at Brian, trying to ascertain if he was still mad at him.  “Hello,” Carlyle said.

Brian scowled.  He had evidently still not forgiven Carlyle.  “Where is my son?” asked Brian.

“Alfred’s safe,” Carlyle said.  “He is staying with Catherine at the robbers’ cave.”

“What?”

“It’s okay,” Carlyle explained.  “The robbers have surrendered.  Catherine and Alfred and a few others are just staying up there to watch over things.”

Brian reached out his right hand and grabbed Carlyle by the throat.  “If anything happens to my son…,” he yelled.

“Stop it, Brian,” Margaret’s voice said from inside the house.  “Threatening Carlyle won’t help Alfred.”

Brian’s hand let go of Carlyle’s throat.  He turned and yelled back inside the house at Margaret.  “You tell him, then,” he demanded.  “Control your children so that they don’t cause trouble for the rest of us.”

“I can’t control them anymore,” said Margaret, and her voice was tired.  “They’ve stopped listening to me since Finn died.”

“Alfred is safe,” Carlyle said to Brian.  “He’s with Catherine.”  Carlyle actually wasn’t so sure that Catherine and Alfred were in the safest place right now, but he didn’t want to further upset Brian.  “He’s decided to stay up in the caves because he was afraid you would still be angry at him.”

“So is that what he’s thinking,” Brian said angrily.  “He thinks if he just stays up there in the caves then he won’t have to worry about his father? I’ll go up there myself and drag him down.”

“Brian, no,” said Margaret, and again Margaret’s voice sounded tired.  “The sun is almost down now.  You can’t make it up there and back before dark.”

“He’s safe for the night,” Carlyle repeated.  “Catherine’s with him.  She can protect him.”

“Catherine!” Brian exclaimed.  “I’m more scared of her than I am of the robbers.  Is she going to burn him to death too?”

“She won’t harm him,” said Margaret.  “She’s not like that.”

Brian shook his head in bewilderment.  “I don’t understand any of this,” he said.  “I’m going back home.”  He turned his head and addressed Margaret.  “I’ll be back in the morning,” he said, and he left.

Carlyle came into the house, and helped his mother replace the door, and put the bolts back in place.  

Then, Carlyle turned at last to Margaret.

“Are you alright, Mother?” Carlyle asked.

“No, of course not,” Margaret said walking to the back of the house.  “I’ve been sick to death with worry all day.  For fifteen years, your father and I have endured all kinds of hardship to keep you two safe on this mountain.  And now you are deliberately putting your lives at risk.”

“But our lives were always at risk,” Carlyle said.  “Father’s death proved that.  Father thought we could just keep to ourselves and the robbers would leave us alone.  But he was wrong.  The robbers attacked us anyway.  So, if the robbers are going to attack us anyway, it doesn’t make us safer if we sit still and do nothing.  It makes us safer if we attack first.”

Margaret sighed heavily.  “I see that I cannot stop you,” she said.  She walked over and took Carlyle’s hand in hers.  Carlyle looked down at her old wrinkled hands.  “I only ask one thing,” she said.

“What?”

“You and Catherine shouldn’t make yourselves the leaders.  Let the others lead.”

“The others wouldn’t have done anything unless I convinced them.”

“But now they’re doing something.”

“They still need prompting,” Carlyle said.

“Let Shawn be the leader,” Margaret said.  “He’s the natural leader anyway.  He’s the most popular one in that group.”

“He is,” Carlyle agreed.

“Let him be the leader.  You and Catherine can still tell him what to do in secret, but in front of all the others, you can let him give the orders.”

“But why?” Carlyle asked.

“Because,” Margaret threw up her hands in exasperation, “Because it’s what I want.  Why do you two always have to argue about everything?”

“But I don’t understand,” Carlyle said.

“It’s dangerous to be seen as the leader of anything,” Margaret said.  “You make yourself a target.”

“I don’t mind,” said Carlyle.

“Have you no care for me?” Margaret wailed.

“But it’s not fair to Shawn then,” Carlyle said.  “If being the leader is dangerous, then why put Shawn in danger.”

“Listen to me,” said Margaret.  “Your time has not yet come.  When the time comes, you will become a leader.  But you’re still too young.”

“I’m as old as Shawn is.”

Margaret burst into tears.  Carlyle had never seen his mother cry like this before.  Margaret and Finn had always been so strong.  He didn’t know what to say.  He simply waited until she had stopped crying, and when she had dried her tears, he helped her into bed.

Chapter 13: The Robbers are Subdued

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Dawn had just barely broken, but it was still cold.  The weather near the top of the mountain was particularly chilly.

Fraisale and Blocare sat on some tree stumps warming themselves by the fire.  They were on lookout duty.  It was their job to make sure that no one disturbed the entrance to the caves while the other robbers slept.  But at the moment, they were more concerned with their conversation than with their lookout.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” Fraisale was saying.  “Who ever heard of a girl who can control wolves?”

“She’s not a girl,” Blocare answered.  “She’s a witch.”

“Is she though?” Fraisale asked.  “We know all the witches on this mountain.  We’ve seen them.  We’ve made agreements with them.  We don’t steal from them, and they leave us alone.  And we’ve never seen her with the witches.”

“Maybe she’s new.”

“But you heard what Cap said.  He said she wasn’t living with the witches.  He said she was part of the family that they robbed.” 

“Well then maybe--.”  Blocare stopped talking abruptly, and cocked his head sideways.  “Listen!” he said.

Fraisale listened.

“Did you hear something?” asked Blocare.

“I don’t think so,” said Fraisale.

“I thought I heard something,” Blocare said.

Fraisale looked around.  “I don’t see anything,” he said.

“There’s something out there in those trees,” said Blocare.

“Well, have a look then if you want,” said Fraisale.  “We are supposed to be keeping watch, after all.”

Blocare stood up and walked into the trees.  

Up, near the top of one of the mountain peaks, the robbers kept their main hideaway.  

The mountain was filled with caves and crevices.  Mountains are a perfect place for a gang of robbers to make their home.  But in this particular place, this particular spot on the mountain, there were five different caves with entrances all right next to each other.  It was the perfect place for the robbers to make their main base.

The biggest cave was located the furthest up the mountainside.  It had a large entrance that was covered in vines, which helped to keep hidden all the treasures that the robbers stored inside it.

To the left, and slightly further down the mountainside, were two smaller cave entrances.  And a fourth cave was located to the right.  And a fifth cave was slightly further down the mountain, and faced opposite the big cave. 

All five of these caves formed a little ring, and in that ring was a rather large clearing area, free from trees and bushes, where the robbers gathered and held meetings.

And in the very center of the ring was the fire pit, which is where Fraisale sat now.

Fraisale kept sitting on the tree trump, and waited for Blocare to re-emerge from the trees.  But Blocare did not come back.

“Now what do you suppose is keeping him?” Fraisale muttered to himself.

“Could be any number of things, I suppose,” a voice replied.

Fraisale nearly jumped up in surprise.  He turned in the direction of the voice, and saw a raven was now perched on the log next to him.  “What are you doing here?” Fraisale demanded. 

“I beg your pardon,” the raven replied in an offended tone.  “We ravens live on this mountain as well, you know.  And you ought to know that birds come and go as they please.”

“Yes, well usually birds keep to themselves, and don’t bother people by talking to them,” Fraisale said.

“Well, if you didn’t want me to talk to you, then you shouldn’t have asked me a question,” the bird replied.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” Fraisale snapped.  Fraisale looked up and noticed two other ravens flying in the sky.  “Who are they?” he asked. 

“They are my brothers, Baldrick and Balsamer.  Oh, and my name is Bettina, by the way.”

“And what are they doing?”

“Keeping watch.”

“Keeping watch for what?” said Fraisale, getting more agitated.  “This is our camp.”

“Keeping watch for the wolves,” Bettina replied.

And then, from the trees, three large wolves emerged, growling menacingly.

Fraisale jumped to his feet and grabbed his sword.  “I doubt that sword will do you much good,” Bettina said.  “Your best bet is just to run for it.”

Fraisale looked at the raven in bewilderment.  Who was this bird, and why was she giving him advice?  But then the snarling from the wolves quickly refocused Fraisale on the threat at hand.  Fraisale was momentarily paralyzed as he waited to see what the wolves would do.  But then when they started running towards him, he dropped his sword and ran into the trees as fast as he could. 

Once he entered into the trees, Fraisale kept running.  He didn’t dare turn around to see if the wolves were still behind him.  He just ran as fast as he could down the mountain slope.  Until he tripped over a rope, which had been tied between two trees.  He hit the ground hard, and before he even realized what was happening, six teenagers were on top of him, pinning him to the ground.  He tried to yell out, but one of them stuffed his mouth with cloth to muffle his screams.  They wrapped him with rope and tied him up so that he couldn’t move.  And then, once they had completely immobilized him, they dragged him over and plopped him down beside another tied up figure.

Fraisale looked over and saw Blocare was also tied up next to him.

***********

Alfred ran over to Catherine.  “We’ve caught the other one now,” he said.

Just as Alfred was reporting this, Bettina the raven flew down and landed on Catherine’s shoulder.  “That’s both of them,” said Bettina.  “There’s no one else keeping watch.”

“And their weapons?” asked Catherine.

“They keep their weapons by the cave entrance for the most part,” said Bettina.  “A few of them sleep with knives or daggers by their side, but all the big weapons are at the entrance to the cave.”

“Excellent,” Catherine said.

“Right, you know what to do,” Shawn whispered to everyone in the group.  “Go out and collect all the weapons.  And quietly.  Don’t wake up any of the robbers.”

The group left, and went to the cave entrances, where they silently removed all the weapons, and then brought the weapons back into the trees.

“Now it’s time to wake them up,” Catherine said to Carlyle. 

Carlyle nodded his agreement.

Catherine turned to Bettina.  “You may begin,” she said.

Bettina flew up into the sky, and started circling the caves, cawing.  Her brothers, Baldrick and Balsamer, joined her, and there was a chorus of birds cawing in the sky.

Soon enough, voices started coming from the caves.

“What’s that racket!” 

“Someone should shut those birds up.”

“Where are my arrows!”

“Hey, where are Fraisale and Blocare?  They’re supposed to be on watch.”

The robbers began stumbling out of their caves, still stupid with sleep.  Some of them were beginning to realize their weapons were gone.

Catherine then turned to the wolves.  “Remember,” she said, “today you are not to kill any of them unless absolutely necessary.  You may frighten them, but do not kill them.”

The wolves growled their acknowledgement.  Then they bounded up into the clearing and started barking furiously.  The robbers started yelling in fear.

Some of the robbers wanted to run away, but the wolves had the clearing surrounded, and would not let any of the robbers out.  A few of the robbers, who still had daggers or knives on their bodies, took out their weapons, but it was obvious that a single knife would do little good against a full grown wolf.

Catherine emerged from the trees.  “Put down your knives, and you will live,” she said.  Most of the robbers immediately obeyed her, and the knives were thrown quickly to the ground.

Carlyle and the rest of the group followed Catherine.  The group all carried their weapons.  Lucinda held her spear poised.  Gabriel had her bow and arrow drawn.  The rest had their various swords and clubs.

“Do you surrender?” Catherine asked the robbers.

“What do you want from us?” asked one of them.

“I want your surrender,” said Catherine.  “I want you to acknowledge that we have beaten you, and that you have lost.  You agree not to fight us anymore, and in return we will show you mercy.  Do you surrender?”

The wolves barked threateningly, and there was then a clamor as the robbers quickly agreed to surrender.

“Put your hands on your head,” Carlyle ordered.  “Come out of the caves.  Sit down here on the ground.”

The robbers complied.  At first they moved a bit slowly, but then the wolves growled, and they moved faster.

There were about two-hundred robbers in the caves altogether, and once they were all collected and sitting down, they filled up the whole area.  Alfred, Paul and Marcus went through the caves to make sure there were no robbers left lingering.  The rest of the group kept their weapons pointed at the robbers the whole time to make sure they didn’t try anything.  And the wolves growled. at any robber who made any sudden movement.

“That’s all of them,” Marcus said finally, after emerging from the fifth cave.  

“And that’s not all,” Alfred said.  “They’ve got a lot of stuff hidden in these caves.  Gold, jewelry, food, clothes, wine, and more.”

“It must be nice to live so richly,” said Carlyle bitterly.

“The mountain folk could really use this stuff,” Paul said. 

“They shall have it,” Carlyle answered.

“Who is the leader here?” Catherine asked.  “Who is the robber king?” A middle-aged man was indicated by the other robbers.  “Bring him before us,” Catherine said.

Lucas and Kevin went into the middle of the robbers, and pulled out the man who had been indicated.  They brought him before Catherine and Carlyle.

He was about forty.  He had brown hair.  His face was weather-beaten, and had lots of wrinkles on it, but his body was still big and strong.  

“Kneel,” Catherine commanded.

The man looked at Catherine sullenly, and then looked around to remind himself of all the weapons pointed at him, and all the wolves.  And then he slowly lowered himself down to his knees.

“Are you the one that they call the robber king?” asked Catherine.

“I am,” he said.

“You are king no more,” Carlyle said.  “We are now the leaders of the robbers.”

The robber king sneered.  “If they will follow you,” he said.

“They will follow us,” Catherine said.

“What is your name?” asked Carlyle.

“My name is Verus.”

“Why did you rob and kill our father, Verus?” Carlyle asked. 

“I did not,” said the robber king.  “That was my men.  I was not there.  The king of the robbers never goes out on the expeditions.”

“Why did your men do it, then?” Catherine asked.  “He had almost nothing worth stealing.  Just the supplies for the winter that he got from the forest.  Usually you robbers leave the mountain folk alone.”

“We used to,” said Verus.  “But it’s gotten more difficult lately.  We’ve had to pay a lot more out.”

“What do you mean pay a lot more out?” asked Carlyle.

“Do you think the monsters who live on this mountain would leave us in peace?” asked Verus.  “The ogres demand gold from us in exchange for agreeing not to attack.  The vampires demand diamonds and jewelry.  The Minotaur wants food.  We have to constantly pay to keep our camp from being attacked.  But we have no choice, because we are all wanted men in the forest.  We’d be hung if the forest people caught us down there.  Recently, all the monsters have been demanding more.  So we’ve had to keep paying more.  But too many trips down to the forest are dangerous.  So my men have started robbing the mountain folk.”

“But why did they have to kill our father,” said Catherine.  “Wasn’t it enough to rob him?”

“The forest folk we can rob and then run away from,” said Verus.  “But we live on the same mountain with the mountain folk.  And most of the mountain folk are crazy.  It’s not usually a good idea to leave them alive after you’ve robbed them.  They might try to get their revenge, or get their stuff back.”

“What foolish thinking,” said Carlyle.  “You’ve found out now that killing the mountain folk only makes their families angrier.”

Carlyle started to draw his sword out, but Catherine held out her hand and stopped him.  Then Catherine turned to Verus.  “We should punish you,” she said.  “But instead, we will reward you.  You will find yourself better off under us than you were before.  We will protect you from the ogres and the vampires and the minotaur.  You will finally have peace and security in these mountains.”

Verus scoffed.  “How can you possibly protect us against the monsters?”

“We won’t do it alone,” said Catherine.  “You will help us of course.”

“You expect us to fight the ogres?  You’re crazy!” Verus exclaimed.

“You can join us, or you can die,” Carlyle said, and he fingered his sword again.

“It strikes me, Verus,” said Catherine, “that you are the crazy one.  What does it profit you to spend all your time robbing, if you have to give everything you steal to the ogres and the vampires?  The whole point of robbing is that it’s supposed to be profitable.  If you’re not going to be any better off than the other mountain folk, then you may as well just join the woodcutters, and make an honest living.  But think how rich you will become if you don’t have to share your treasures with the monsters.”

“Of course, you’ll have to share some of your plunder with the mountain folk,” said Carlyle.

“Of course,” said Catherine.  “But don’t worry about that.  The mountain folk are simple people.  They won’t demand your gold or diamonds, like the monsters do.  If you simply give them a bit of your food, and maybe some of your warm clothes, they’ll be satisfied.  You’ll be able to keep all the really good stuff for yourself.  Oh, and I almost forgot. We must make sure that my wolves are well taken care of as well.  But that’s even easier.  The wolves don’t need clothes, and they generally hunt their own food.  But they could use somewhere warm to sleep.  These mountains can get so cold and windy at night.  I’m sure you could make room for them in your caves.”

“We can,” said Verus.  And here, Carlyle thought he could see the robber king smiling slightly.  “The caves are very deep.  We have room for many more.”

“Excellent,” said Catherine.  “Because we also will be staying in the caves with you from now on.”

Chapter 12: The Meetings

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Catherine sat cross legged on the ground.  Baldrick the raven, son of Branoc, sat on her left shoulder.  Balsamer, another son of Branoc, sat on Catherine’s right shoulder.  Branoc had a large family.

The wolves had come, but they were not happy.

“The ravens told us that you wanted to see us again,” said the lead wolf, his fur bristling.

“Why so angry?” Catherine asked.  “Did you not eat well today?”

“We are capable of finding our own food,” said the wolf.  The other wolves growled their agreement.  “We have helped you once, but we are not your servants.  How many more times will you summon us?”

“There is much work to be done in these mountains,” said Catherine.  “And I will have need of faithful helpers.”

“We are not your helpers,” the wolf growled.  Once again, all the other wolves growled their agreement.  

“Do not try my patience,” said Catherine.  “I will have need of you in the coming days.  You will get my summons from the ravens.  We have many more battles to fight.  I need you to be ready.”

“We fear your power,” said the lead wolf, “but we will not be turned into slaves without a fight.  If you wish to rule us, then you will have to fight for that privilege.”  Without another word, the wolf lunged at her.

Before Catherine had even registered what was happening, before the wolf’s teeth had time to chomp down on her face, Catherine’s hand shot out and grabbed the wolf by the throat.  It wasn’t until a few seconds later that Catherine’s brain realized that her arm was keeping the wolf away by holding his throat. Something had taken control of her body.  It was the familiar energy again.  It lived inside her, and yet it was not her.  It was some foreign intruder that had come to live with her.  And then, that energy flowed through her arm, into her hand, and into the wolf’s body.  The wolf yelped, and the whimpered, and then howled in agony.  It sounded pitiful.

Catherine knew that she was burning the wolf alive just as she had burned Zed.  She had not intended to kill the wolf, but the energy was flowing through her now of its own accord.  And it did feel good.  There was a euphoric feeling connected to the release of the energy.  She didn’t want to stop.

But no, her brain came back to her, it wouldn’t do to kill the wolf.  First of all, she had no real quarrel with the wolves like she had with Zed.  It hadn’t been the wolves who had killed her father.  Secondly, although she wanted to scare the wolves a little bit, she did not want to push them too far and make them implacable enemies.  She was going to rely on them for a lot of help in the coming days.

Reluctantly, Catherine fought to regain control over herself.  The energy could be controlled if she just tried hard enough.  She forced herself to stop the energy, and let go fo the wolf.

As soon as Catherine released her grip, the wolf fled down the mountainside, yelping pitifully, with its tail between its legs.

The other wolves were now growling and barking.  Catherine stood up. “Who’s next?” she demanded.  “Fight me if you dare!”

The other wolves kept growling, but not one of them dared to attack her.

Catherine sat back down.  The ravens Baldrick and Balsamer, who had flown up into the trees during the attack, returned to her shoulders.  “Do not be upset,” said Catherine.  “As I told you before, I will demand of you no unpleasant duties.  You like to attack. You will have plenty more opportunities to attack under my direction.  But you will only attack those that I direct you to.”

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

It was late in the afternoon now.  The sun was low in the sky, but it was not quite dark yet.  The group sat in a circle on the mountain side.  Some of them sat on larger rocks, some of them were seated on the ground.

Carlyle was the only one standing.  He was at the head of the circle, and he was trying to convince everyone else..

Catherine sat just outside the circle, listening to the discussion with an expression of contempt on her face.  The ravens Baldrick and Balsamer were sitting on her shoulders again.

Paul was talking.  “I just, I just don’t understand what you want,” he said.  “We defeated the robbers.  We saved your home.  And we lived to talk about it.  Isn’t that enough?  Shouldn’t we quit while we’re ahead?”

“But we’re not ahead,” said Carlyle.  “We’re right back where we started from.  What have we gained from that fight?  The robbers are still alive to terrorize the mountain.”

“That’s the life of the mountain folk,” said Marcus.  “It always has been.  Life up here is dangerous.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Carlyle.  “We are terrorized because we let ourselves be terrorized.  But we could fight back.  What if we were to eliminate the robbers completely?”

“You mean kill every last one of them?” asked Molly.

“Why not?” asked Carlyle.  “Kill them or force them off this mountain.  We beat them once already. We can do it again.  Why shouldn’t we?  Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to walk around the mountain without being attacked?”

“But you can’t make these mountains safe by just getting rid of the robbers,” said Gabriel.  “The robbers are the least of our problems.  What about the goblins, and the werewolves, and the vampires and the ogres, and everything else?”

“Yes, but listen,” said Carlyle, and he paused to make sure everyone in the group was focusing on him, “What if we were to get rid of all of them?  We don’t have to stop at just the robbers.  We could fight against all the creatures on this mountain, and finally make it safe.  Imagine, no more cowering in our homes every night! No more goblins.  No more werewolves, vampires or ogres.”

“You’re crazy,” said Lucas.  “You’d never be able to kill all the monsters on these mountains.”

“Why not?” asked Carlyle.  “We’ve all fought the monsters before, haven’t we?  We’ve all had nights when the werewolves or goblins have attacked our homes, right?  And we’ve all beaten them back before.  I saw my father kill ogres and werewolves with this very sword.”  Carlyle held up Finn’s old sword to show them.

“Standing in your doorway and keeping the monsters out is one thing,” said Marcus.  “Fighting them in the open is different.”

“Your father was lucky,” said Molly.  “But we all know plenty of people who fought the monsters and died.  And remember Jack?”

“Of course I do,” said Carlyle.  “But Jack died because he wandered off by himself.  If we all stick together, if we fight together and protect each other’s backs, we can win.”

“My father says that you’d be crazy to trust the mountain folk to protect you in a fight,” said Lucas.  “He says that you can never trust the mountain folk.”

“My father always said the same thing,” said Carlyle.  “But I’m not talking about our parents.  I’m talking about us.  Maybe the older generation on the mountain is untrustworthy.  Maybe it’s true what they say--maybe the mountain folk are mostly criminals who came up here from the forest.  But that’s not us.  We didn’t flee to the mountains, we were born on the mountains.  We all grew up here together.  We trust each other.  We’ve already proved we can fight together, haven't we?”

“Yes, we did,” Paul answered.  “But then we had a reason to fight.”

“We still do,” said Carlyle.

“What exactly is the plan, Carlyle?” asked Shawn.  “Do you want us to march up into the caves and fight the robbers where they live?”

“Yes,” said Carlyle.

“And then?” Shawn asked.

“And then,” said Carlyle, “once we’ve killed all the robbers, then we get rid of the bears.  And then the wolves.  And then the goblins.  And then--.”

“You fool!” Catherine blurted out, stopping Carlyle in mid-sentence.  “You complete and utter fool!”

Carlyle was momentarily taken aback by Catherine’s anger.  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“We don’t need to get rid of the wolves,” Catherine said.  “We can control the wolves.”

“Yes,” Carlyle said.  “I know, we all saw what you did this afternoon.  But--.”

“And we don’t need to kill the robbers either,” said Catherine.  “Why kill them when we can control them?”

“Because they killed father,” Carlyle responded immediately.

“I know,” said Catherine.  “But we’ve already avenged him.  We’ve avenged him ten-fold now.”

“It’s not enough,” said Carlyle.

“It’s enough,” Catherine said firmly.  “You need to decide what you want.  Do you want to continue to avenge father?  Or do you want to make these mountains safe?”

“We can have both,” Carlyle insisted.

“We cannot,” Catherine said.  “Not by ourselves.  If you want to make these mountains safe, you’re going to need to realize who your potential allies are.  The ogres cannot be reasoned with.  They must be destroyed.  The goblins cannot be reasoned with.  They must be dealt with.  But the robbers are human.  They can be reasoned with.  They can be dealt with.  They can be controlled.  And if you can control them, then you can use them to help us fight the real monsters on this mountain.”

“How will you control them?” asked Carlyle.

“We need to subdue them without killing them,” Catherine responded.

“And how are you going to do that?” asked Shawn.

“Surprise will be key,” said Catherine.  “We have to find out where their main hideouts are, and attack when they least expect it.  Fortunately,” Catherine stroked the feathers of Baldrick, “I have a way to get information.”

Chapter 11: The Battle on the Mountainside

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Carlyle and Alfred sat on the ground outside the entrance to the cave that used to be Carlyle’s home.  Carlyle held Finn’s sword.  Alfred had one of the axes.

It was eerily quiet that afternoon.  The snow was falling more heavily now than before.

Carlyle was trying to clean the blood off of Finn’s sword.  He had an old cloth in his hand, but no soap or water.  Nevertheless, he scrubbed at the sword. Some of the dried blood was flaking away.

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, there will be twelve,” said Alfred.  “Counting me and you of course.  Oh, and plus Catherine.  That’ll make thirteen.  Where is Catherine?”

“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 paused, and then he said, “I saw enough.”  Carlyle began scrubbing again.

“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 really don’t know,” Carlyle said.  

  There was a cawing sound overhead.  Both Alfred and Carlyle looked up.  A raven was flying overhead.  As Carlyle and Alfred watched, the raven flew down and landed on the ground a few feet away from them.

After landing, the raven hopped over, and looked at them. It appeared to be studying them carefully.  “Are you Catherine’s brother?” it asked Carlyle.

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

“Pleased to meet you,” the Raven said.  “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 the raven fly away.  And 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!”  It was Margaret.  She came running up the mountain, with Brian close behind her.  “What are you doing here?” she exclaimed.

“This is our home,” Carlyle responded.

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

Carlyle stood up and held up Finn’s sword.  “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 was still trying to keep a lookout, saw a large group of men coming down the mountainside.  “Here they come,” he said.  

Everyone looked up the mountain.  “There must be fifty of them,” said Margaret.

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

One of the robbers saw Carlyle, and yelled down at him. “I see you still have your father’s sword, boy.  Do you think it will protect you from all of us?”

It was one of the robbers Carlyle had fought this morning.  Carlyle yelled back up the mountain.  “You seem to be much braver now than the last time I saw you.  Come down here and find out.”  Carlyle shook the sword.

“Insolent pup!” the robber returned.  “Your head will be on that sword by the end of the day.”  

Margaret tugged desperately at Carlyle’s arm.  “I’m begging you,” she said.  “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,” exclaimed Alfred excitedly.  “Look!”

Alfred pointed across the mountain slope.  Coming into view was Shawn, who came running from across the mountainside, carrying his father’s sword.  He was followed by Lucinda, who carried two spears with her.  And then came Gabriel, 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, and tried to pull him away.  But the group all surged forward to help Alfred.  Shawn and Paul grabbed on to Alfred to help keep him in place.  Lucas and Kevin grabbed Brian’s hand, and pried his fingers off of Alfred.

Brian was furious.  “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?”

“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.”  Knowing that there was no time left to argue, Margaret simply left and retreated into the cave that had been their home for so many years. 

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

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.  Carlyle looked at Alfred, and saw Alfred had noticed it as well.

Shawn came up to Carlyle.  “Any last words?” he asked with a wry smile.

It was hardly the time to joke.  And yet, Carlyle recognized that this was humor designed to relieve the tension.  Carlyle forced himself to smile back.  “Last words for who?” he asked.  “The only ones who will survive to remember them are those ravens up there.”

Shawn chuckled.  “Fight well then,” he said.  “You don’t want to embarrass yourself in front  of the ravens.”

The robbers were almost upon them now.  Lucinda let out a war cry, leapt forward, and threw her first spear.  It struck the chest of one of the robbers and sent him down to the ground instantly.  Gabriel felled another robber with her arrow.  Abby managed to hit one square in the head with a rock from her slingshot.  

The rest now ran forward with their swords, clubs and axes. 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. 

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 groun.

It was chaos and fighting everywhere.  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 answered 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 50 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.  “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, Gabriel, Lucinda, Molly and Abby, they were all still alive, and standing.  Brian 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.”

“It’s a good start ,” Carlyle answered.  “But we’re not done yet.  Not completely.  There are many more robbers still left in these mountains.”

Chapter 10: Assistance is Obtained

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Carlyle, Alfred and Brian disposed of the bodies in one of the wooded areas on the side of the mountain.  Then they pulled the cart back home.  

Brian went inside to talk to Margaret.  Carlyle nudged Alfred in the ribs.  “Let’s go,” he said quietly.

“Where are we going?” Alfred asked.  Carlyle had already begun walking, so Alfred had to run to catch up with him.  

“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.”

“Should we take Catherine with us?” Alfred asked.

“If we go back in the house to get her, then we’re going to have to explain to our parents what we’re doing,” 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.  It was another cold day on the mountain tops. Alfred noticed that it was beginning to snow.

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

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 group of teenagers was easy to find.  They were in one of the usual hangout spots on the side of the mountain.  And Carlyle recognized that all the members were there:  Lucas, Kevin, Marcus, Paul, Shawn, Stella, Gabriel, Lucinda, Molly and Abby. 

Carlyle walked up to the group very briskly, with Alfred keeping pace behind him, and Marcus immediately recognized something was up. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“The robbers,” said Carlyle.  “They’ve attacked our house.  They killed my father, wounded Alfred’s father, and I think they’re going to come back and attack it again.”

“Why?” asked Molly.

“The first time they attacked was just to rob us,” said Carlyle.  “But now they want revenge.” 

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

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

“There were only five of them this morning, but they will be coming back with more,” said Carlyle.  “Maybe ten or twenty.  We can’t fight them off with just Alfred and I, but with the group of us, we might just stand a chance.”

“But why should we help you?” asked Lucas.

“Because,” said Carlyle patiently, “You’re not just helping me, you’re helping yourselves and your own families.  The next time they 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 spoke up next.  He was slightly older than the rest of the teenagers in the group, and moreover he was a natural leader by temperament. “Carlyle, if your family is in danger, then of course we will help you.  That’s what we do.  The group helps each other.”

Carlyle smiled.  “I knew I could count on you guys.  Go home and get whatever weapons you can.  Come back and meet us at my house.  We have to defend it against the robbers.”

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

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?”