Chapter 13: The Robbers are Subdued

Google: docs, pub

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

 Google: docs, pub

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

Google: docs, pub

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

Google: docs, pub

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?”

Chapter 9: The Robbers Attack

Google: docs, pub

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 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 they 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.

“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, pointing his sword at Brian.

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

“Ah, more loose ends, I see,” said Zed.  “Don’t worry.  We’ll take care of all of you.”

“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 back toward Carlyle.  He swung his sword in Carlyle’s direction.  It was a wild swing--Carlyle was still a few feet away from Zed, and he wasn’t close enough to be hit.  But 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 grabbed at the sword.  Catherine grabbed at the wrist of Zed’s sword hand with her left hand, and with her right hand she tried to get ahold of the handle of the sword. Zed tried to hit her with his free hand, but then Alfred rushed over and grabbed Zed’s other arm.  Zed struggled to free himself from the two teenagers, 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 rushed forward to help Zed.  Carlyle picked up one of the axes he had dropped on the floor, and 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.   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.  Since Catherine wasn’t listening to Margaret’s pleas to stop, Margaret actually stepped forward and grabbed onto Zed with them.  It looked strange to see Margaret’s wrinkled arms joining in the struggle, but Margaret was surprisingly tough for her age, just like Finn had been.  

Margaret could see that there was no way Catherine could let go of Zed now.  The moment she would loosen up her grip on Zed’s arms, Zed would slash at them with her sword.  But Margaret pleaded, “Just keep calm, Catherine.  Don’t lose control, Catherine.  I’m here to help.  Everything is going to be alright.”

Just as Margaret was saying this, however, another one of the robbers grabbed Margaret from behind and pulled off of Zed. In fact, he pulled Margaret off with such force that she was flung backwards into the kitchen shelf.  Clay plates and cups clattered to 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 fire’s 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.  The poor man couldn’t put himself out, and the fir 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 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 this already. So Margaret continued.  “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.

Chapter 8: Arthur's Story

Google: docs, pub

They burned Finn’s body at dusk.

Carlyle and Alfred collected all the logs into a large funeral pyre.  Finn’s body was put on top of it, and Margaret kindled the fire.  She sobbed softly while the fire burned.  

Carlyle stood and watched the fire, and listened to his mother cry.  He wanted to cry for his father, but no tears came.  He wondered what was wrong with him.  The truth was that he couldn’t cry because his mind was still processing what had happened.  He still couldn’t believe that his father was really dead.  But he was still too young to realize that grief was a process, and so he felt guilty for not being able to cry.

Catherine, as she watched the fire burn, momentarily felt grief.  But as the strong emotion welled up in her, the energy welled up within her as well.  It felt like electricity was surging out of her stomach, through her arms, and was flowing out of her fingertips.  She thought about the herb in her pocket, but she decided not to grab it.  She didn’t want to throw up.  Not now.

After the fire had burned itself up, they said their final goodbyes to Finn’s ashes, and went back into the house.  

Margaret bolted the door behind them.

Arthur was lying in one of the beds, waiting for them.  Margaret had insisted he stay in bed and not come out for the funeral.  She was worried that even slight moving around would tear his stitches.

“We need tea,” Margaret said once they were all inside.  “I’ve got a herbal mix that’s good for calming us down.”  

Margaret boiled the water, and then mixed it with some of her herbs.  After she had served the tea to everyone, she looked at Arthur.  “It’s time,” she said.  “It’s time for you to tell us what happened to Finn.”

“Yes,” Carlyle agreed.  “Tell us what happened.”

Arthur sat up in his bed.  “There’s not much to tell,” he said.  “It was an ambush.  Clear and simple.  The type of ambush that happens all the time in these mountains.  Finn and I were pulling the cart up the mountain road.  We were loaded up with supplies, so the cart was heavy and we were moving pretty slow.  Suddenly, ten robbers sprung out from the trees and stood in the path in front of us.  And ten robbers appeared behind us.

“I immediately took out my sword.  But Finn never reached for his weapon.  Finn growled at me, ‘Put away your sword, you fool.  We can’t possibly win when we’re two against 20.  Our only hope is to talk to them.’”

Arthur stopped talking and looked down into his tea.  He took a slow sip, and then continued.  “Now, if they had been goblins or ogres, or any other kind of monster, I would never have agreed to put my sword down.  You can’t reason with monsters.  But these were human beings just like ourselves, and I thought maybe Finn was right.  Maybe we could talk to them.  So I threw my sword down on the ground.

“‘We won’t fight you,’ Finn said to the robbers.  ‘Take what you want, and leave us be.’  But the robbers didn’t put away their swords.  In fact, as they came closer, they just laughed.  It wasn’t a friendly laugh.

“Finn just smiled at them though.  ‘It’s no good killing us, boys,’ he said to them.  ‘If we’re dead, we can’t make any more trips up and down the mountain, and we can’t get any more supplies for you to rob.  You’ll want to keep us alive so that you can rob us again someday.’ 

“It was a good point, I thought.  It would have convinced me if I had been a robber.  But they didn’t listen to reason.  I think they had already decided they were going to kill us, and so they weren’t really listening to anything that Finn was saying.  One of them said, ‘There’s enough riff-raff on this mountain already.’  And he stuck his sword right into Finn’s chest.  Finn wasn’t even holding a weapon at the time.  He had no chance to defend himself.”

“So how did you get away?” asked Catherine.

Arthur paused slightly.  He thought maybe he was detecting a bit of an edge in Catherine’s voice, but he wasn’t sure.  “I ran,” he said.  “I’m not proud, but there it is.  I ran and I left Finn to die on the road.”  Arthur spit out the last words.

“There was nothing you could have done,” Margaret said.  Her voice was flat and emotionless.

“The thing is,” Arthur continued, “One man can never defeat 20 men in a fight, because they would fight as a group.  But in a footrace, everyone has to run as an individual. So one man might just be able to outrun 20 men.  So I just decided to run for it.  When Finn was talking to them, right before they stabbed him, they were all kind of closing around him, and this created a gap that I could sneak through.  As soon as their sword plunged into Finn’s chest, I dashed through the gap, and just ran as fast as I could.  One of them thrust his sword at my side as I ran by.  I guess that’s where I must have gotten this,” Arthur gestured to his wound that Margaret had sewn up.  “But I barely felt it at the time.  I was just trying to run as fast as I could.  Some of them followed me for a bit, but I was faster than they were, and so they weren’t gaining any ground.  And eventually they decided to let me go, and concentrate on cleaning out the cart instead.”

Alfred piped up.  “They took everything,” he said.  “When we got to the cart, it was completely empty.”

“It was a good haul too,” Arthur said wistfully.  “There was plenty of food to get both of our families through the winter--Sacks of grain and flour, dried berries and nuts and roots.  Plus lots of iron bars.  Finn had said he wanted to strengthen your door.”

Margaret stared into the fire.  “I’ve been so upset about Finn that I’d almost forgotten about the supplies,” she said.  “We were counting on that food to get us through the winter.”

“It’ll be alright,” said Arthur.  “We’ll figure something out.  Maybe we can cho down p some more trees.”

“I don’t want you tearing out your stitches,” Margaret said.

“The children can then,” said Arthur.

“Who will pull the cart down and up the mountain again?” asked Margaret.

“I could pull the cart,” said Carlyle.

“I could help,” said Alfred.

“You can’t go by yourselves,” said Arthur “You don’t know the way, and you wouldn’t know who to contact in the forest.”

“You could sit in the cart,” Carlyle said.  “We’ll pull you down.”

“You’re not old enough to go back to the forest yet,” Margaret said.

“Why not?” asked Carlyle.

“What do you mean back to the forest?” asked Catherine.

“It should be fine, Margaret,” said Arthur. “I’ve brought Alfred down to the forest with me lots of times.  He’s never had any trouble.”

“But what if the robbers stop you on the road again?” asked Margaret.

Arthur was silent for a bit.  Then he answered.  “When you travel on that mountain road, you accept the dangers,” he said.  “We’ve always understood that as long as we’ve lived here.  Robbers, wolves, bears, goblins, ogres, bugbears, you may encounter any of these creatures on the mountains at any time.”  Then after a pause, he added, “The robbers didn’t use to attack the mountain people, though.  They used to just go down and rob the forest people, and then hid out in the mountains.  They must be getting more brazen.”

“Or more desperate,” Margaret said.

“Hmmm,” Arthur nodded thoughtfully.  “Maybe.”

“At any rate, if they’re going to ambush us every time we try to bring a cart of supplies up the mountain, then we can’t get more supplies,” said Margaret.  “And if we can’t get more supplies before winter sets in…” her voice trailed off.

There was another moment of silence, and then Carlyle spoke up.  “I’ll go,” he said.  “I’m not afraid.”

“You can’t fight 20 of them,” said Arthur.  “And right now, you don’t even have a sword to fight with anymore.” 

There was another silence.  Finally Arthur said, “It won’t do any good to talk about it all night.  We should get some sleep.”

“Can we read from the book first?” asked Alfred.

Carlyle felt the need to gently correct his friend.  “It’s not the night for it, Alfred,” Carlyle said softly.

“No, it’s okay,” said Margaret.  “It will be good for us to get our minds off of everything for a bit.  It’ll help us sleep.  Catherine, you get the book down and read from it.  I’ll make some more herbal tea.”

Chapter 7: Arthur Returns Alone

Google: docs, pub

It was dawn.  Carlyle, Aflred and Margaret were still in bed, but Catherine couldn’t sleep.  She sat by the fire and tended to it quietly, stoking it, but trying to avoid making any noise that would awaken the others.

  While she stoked the fires, Catherine’s thoughts drifted.  It was now two days since Catherine had visited the Witches’ Coven.  The past two days had passed without incident.  Margaret had done the cooking and cleaning in the house, while the teenagers had gone out to meet their friends on the mountainside.  Catherine had not attempted to go off by herself again, and there had been no more quarrels between her and Carlyle. 

And yet, Catherine was still troubled.  She still had this feeling that an energy was growing inside of her.  It felt like an alien power, something that was not natural to her body.

Yesterday, she had been out with Alfred and Carlye and their friends, and she had felt it rise up inside her.  It had started gradually, but it had gotten bigger and bigger, until she had felt like she had this great energy inside of her that had to be released.  So she had decided to try the herb that her mother had given.  Discreetly, when the attention of the group had been distracted by one of the fights, she had brought the herb up to her mouth and had taken just the tiniest little nibble of it, and swallowed  It had made her feel immediately sick.  She ran over to the bushes to vomit and this, of course, had attracted everyone’s attention.  So much for being discreet.

“Catherine, are you okay?” Molly had asked.  

“I’m fine,” Catherine had managed to say rather weekly.  “I think it was something I ate.”

It had been embarrassing, no doubt about it, even though Catherine always tried to pretend that she didn’t care what the rest of the group thought of her.  

But the herb had also seemed to work.  The feeling inside of her had gone away.  It felt like she had killed the growing energy inside her.  It felt like she had had killed it with the poison, but it also felt like she had poisoned herself.  

Catherine continued stirring the fire.  The fire didn’t even need stirring at this point, but Catherine’s mind was elsewhere.  Her mind kept returning to the conversation she had had with the witch.  “If magic isn’t used,” the witch had said, “it will leak out in unexpected ways.”  That’s what it felt like was happening to her.  Something was trying to leak out of her.

Catherine had been watching her mother very closely the past couple of days, to try to see if there was anything in her mother’s behavior she had missed over the years--to see if there was any magic that might be leaking out of Margaret.  But she had not seen Margaret do anything that indicated any magic abilities.  Except… except that it was so strange that Margaret had known exactly what herb to use to kill the energy.  How did Margaret know these things if she wasn’t magical herself?

While Catherine was still deep in thought, contemplating all of these things, there was a loud thump at the door which startled her.  Her hands involuntarily jerked backwards.  

“It’s alright.  That’ll be father,” said Alfred. Catherine hadn’t realized that Alfred was also awake, but Alfred was wide awake and already scrambling out of bed.  “It’s been five days already,” he said.

The thump at the door was repeated.  “It’s me,” said the voice.  “Open up.”

Carlyle and Margaret were beginning to wake up now as well.  Carlyle was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stood up.  Margaret was sitting on the edge of her bed and putting on her boots.  Catherine undid the latch, and pulled open the door.  Arthur was standing in the doorway.  Finn was nowhere in sight.

There seemed to be something wrong with Arthur.  He looked paler than usual. 

“Where’s Margaret?” he asked.

“Father, are you alright?” Alfred asked.

“Margaret.” Arthur repeated

“I’m here,” Margaret said.  She was now out of bed and walking towards the door.  “What’s wrong?  Where’s Finn?”

Arthur did not reply immediately.  Catherine noticed for the first time that his shirt was covered in blood.

Margaret noticed the blood at the same time.  “Where’s Finn?” Margaret asked again, the tone of her voice was higher this time.

“I’m sorry, Margaret,” Arthur said

Margaret breathed in sharply, resulting in a gasping sound.  

Catherine stepped towards Arthur.  “What’s wrong?” she asked.  Somewhere inside of her, Catherine already knew what was wrong.  But she needed to hear Arthur say it in order for her brain to fully process it.

Arthur looked absolutely miserable. He looked at Margaret first, to see if Margaret was going to give him any signals.  But Margaret was still in shock, so Arthur looked back at Catherine.  “Catherine, your father is dead.  I’m so sorry.”

Carlyle was at the door now as well.  “Where is he?” Carlyle demanded.

“He’s dead,” Arthur repeated.

“Let me see him,” Carlyle said.

“He’s still on the mountain road,” said Arthur.  “I had to leave him by the cart.   I was wounded myself, and I was too weak to carry his body.”

Carlyle bolted out the door and started running down the mountain slope.

“Stop,” Arthur called.  “It’s not safe yet.  They’re still out there.”

Catherine ran after Carlyle, and lastly Alfred ran after them both.  All three ran down the mountainside.

“Wait!” Arthur called out again. But they did not listen.

Carlyle did not want to believe what Arthur had told them.  He hoped that Arthur was mistaken, and that his father was not really dead.  And that is why he ran as fast as he could.  He desperately wanted to find Finn still alive.

When you are running down a mountain slope, it isn’t hard to go fast.  The problem is that you can easily go too fast, lose your footing, and fall down on your face.  But for teenagers who have grown up on the mountain slopes, this seldom happens.  They learn at a young age how to handle the mountain slope--how to leap and spring, and land, and balance on your feet to keep from falling.  Carlyle ran with all the agility of one who had been raised on the mountains.  His feet glided down the mountain as he pushed himself to run faster and faster.  He leaped over rocks and fallen trees and any other obstacle on the slope without losing his stride.  And Catherine and Alfred were right behind him the whole way.

In no time at all, they had reached the mouth of the mountain trail.  They ran down the trail.  A huge tree had fallen over and was blocking their path.  Carlyle leaped over it without even pausing.  Catherine and Alfred did the same.

Various rock formations emerged from the mountain, and the trail twisted and turned as it winded its way around them.  But as Carlyle came around one of the corners, he saw it.

Carlyle’s heart sank.  They were too late.  The wolves were already circling the body of his father.  In the mountains, it never took long for a dead body to attract the scavenging animals.  And now, Carlyle wished he had stopped to take some weapons.  “Begone,” Carlyle shouted as he approached the wolves.  “You have no claim to that body.”

The wolves turned toward Carlyle, but it was obvious they had no intention of obeying him.  They snarled, and crouched as if preparing to pounce on Carlyle.  

Catherine now came around the corner.  She saw Carlyle, Finn’s body, and the wolves, and in an instant she knew what was happening.  In that moment, she had no time to process any emotions.  She simply had to act.  “Begone,” she yelled at the wolves.  “That body belongs to us.”  

At the sound of Catherine’s voice, the wolves immediately stopped growling. They stopped focusing on Carlyle, and looked over at Catherine.  They seemed surprised to see her.  “Begone, I say,” Catherine repeated.  And the wolves ran away.  Carlyle thought this was strange, but for the moment he did not ask any questions to Catherine.  His mind was too preoccupied with his father’s body.  

Carlyle knelt down beside the body.  Once he saw the body up close, there was no doubt that Finn was indeed dead.  The warmth had already left the body.  There was no pulse.  And there was a huge wound in the chest, where Finn had been stabbed.

Both Carlyle and Catherine were too shocked to speak.  Neither of them had ever contemplated the possibility that Finn could die. 

Of course, Finn was very old, and of course, they knew that the mountains were dangerous.  But they were young, and like all young people, they viewed the world through the illusion of permanency.  Finn had always been there, so it seemed that Finn would always be there.

Alfred, who was somewhat less emotionally affected by Finn’s death, found the presence of mind to speak first.  “The thieves took everything,” he said.  “All the supplies are gone from the cart.  But at least they left behind the cart.  We can use it to pull his body up the slope.”

The cart had been turned over and was lying on its side.  Carlyle and Alfred turned it over.  Carlyle was still numb with disbelief and didn’t speak.  

“Help me lift his body,” said Alfred.  “We need to put it in the cart.”

“Where’s his sword,” Catherine said.  “He needs his sword with him.”

“His sword is gone,” said Alfred.  “The thieves took it.  Of course.  They wouldn’t leave anything as valuable as a sword just laying around.”

Catherine and Carlyle both stopped moving.  They seemed to have difficulty absorbing this information.  “He used that sword to kill the ogre,” said Carlye.

“He used that sword to fight the werewolves,” said Catherine.  “That sword was his most prized possession.  It was his identity.”

“He doesn’t need it anymore,” Alfred said gently.  “We need to get him into the cart and get him back up the mountain before the wolves come back.”

“They won’t come back,” Catherine said quietly.  And once again, Alfred and Carlyle were too preoccupied with the dead body to wonder about what she meant.

Carlyle, Catherine and Alfred lifted Finn’s body up, and put it in the cart. Then they pulled the cart up the path.

Margaret met them before they got to the top of the mountain.  She had come down to find them.  She carried an axe with her as her weapon.  Her eyes were red.  “That was foolish of you to run off like that,” she said without emotion.  “But you’ve done good to recover his body.  It wouldn’t have done to let the wolves eat him.”

Together, they all got the cart back to the house.  They took out Finn’s body, brought it inside, and laid it on the table.

Margaret shook her head, and let out a small sob.  She covered her mouth with her hands, and then when she regained her composure, she said sadly, “For fifteen years we’ve lived in these cursed mountains, and we’ve fought off all manner of beasts and monsters.  If he had just lived for a few more years…”  Her voice trailed off.

“What killed him?” asked Carlyle.

“It was one of the robber gangs,” Arthur answered.  “They were waiting in ambush.  We tried to fight, but there were just too many of them.”

Arthur was grimacing in pain while he spoke, and Margaret suddenly remembered.  “We need to see to your wound,” she said.

“I’d appreciate it if you did,” said Arthur.

“Sit down on the bed,” Margaret commanded.  “Catherine, go get my thread and needle.  And boil some water.”  Margaret turned back to Arthur.  “Where are you hurt?” she asked.

“They stabbed me in my side,” Arthur answered.  “It doesn’t feel too deep, but…”

“I’ll look at it,” Margaret said.  Having a task to do seemed to rejuvenate Margaret.  She moved now with a sense of purpose.  Arthur obediently went towards the bed.  Margaret noticed Carlyle and Alfred standing idly by.  “You two, go and chop some wood,” she said.  “We’ll need a funeral pyre.”

Nobody got a burial in the mountains.  Much of the mountain slope was covered in rocks, and stones, and even for the parts that were covered in dirt, the dirt was often frozen by the cold weather.  And even if you could dig a proper grave, the freshly dead body wouldn’t stay in the ground for long before creatures dug it up and devoured it.  So the mountain folk burned their dead on wooden pyres.

Carlyle took the ax from the house, and went outside with Alfred.  They walked down the slope to one of the clumps of trees.  

Carlyle knelt down in front of the tree, and raised his hands up.  He remembered the words that Finn used to recite.  “Forgive me, for what I am about to do,” Carlyle called out to the tree.  “I must do this to survive.  If there are any spirits or other beings who have made this tree their home, tell me now in order that I may not harm you unknowingly.”  

“What are you doing?” asked Alfred.

“This was father’s way,” explained Carlyle.  “He always said this before he cut down any trees.  He wouldn’t have wanted me to cut down his funeral pyre without saying these words first.”

Alfred swallowed the rest of his questions, and let Carlyle continue.  “If there are any spirits or nymphs in this tree,” Carlyle continued, “I beg your forgiveness.  I declare that I am ignorant of any beings who live in this tree.”  Then, he stood up, and began to chop at the base of the tree.