looking over their shoulders, which was as annoying as it sounds. Brendan got steadier on his feet as we went and was almost walking under his own steam by the time we reached the doors to the outside. It had begun to snow. Araf gently placed Spideog on the porch and the Brownies freaked.
‘No, no, you must go. Go now,’ the tallest one of them shrieked at us and picked up one of the packs that we had left outside the doors and threw it down the steps. When he reached for my pack I kinda lost it and grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall.
‘We have an injured man here. We will go when we are ready.’
The other Brownies didn’t come to their comrade’s aid but huddled together shrieking. The guy I had by the neck didn’t struggle; he just looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and said, ‘Please go.’
It was then that I saw that all of their earlier bravado was just that. Talk about bluffing. These guys lived under the servitude of a nasty piece of work who they were terrified of. I let the Brownie go and said, ‘Sorry, we’ll be as quick as we can.
‘Araf,’ I said, ‘these guys are annoying but they are also right. Can we move him?’
‘He is still unconscious, but I agree. I think we should at least put a wee bit of this mountain between us and this place.’
Brendan tried to pick up a pack and almost fell over, so I assembled all four packs comically on my back while Araf rehoisted Spideog.
Halfway down the trail I looked back. About six Brownies were standing on the porch. They were a pathetic bunch. ‘Come with us,’ I mimed to them, not daring to shout. The five at the back rocked on their legs uncomfortably. The tall guy at the front just shook his head, no, and with a sad smile waved goodbye.
As I was turning back, I saw out of the corner of my eye an upstairs shutter open and the flash of a hooded black-robed figure throwing something. Even if I hadn’t had four packs on my back, I don’t think I could have stopped the knife from hitting Brendan square between the shoulder blades.
Chapter Fifteen
Brendan went down from the force of the impact as the knife bounced off his back. The blade was still in its sheath. I jumped recklessly towards the edge of the cliff trying to catch it before it went over but the knife spun off into the void. The weight of the packs on my back meant that I almost followed it.
I slithered back from the edge and went to Brendan, who groaned, ‘Son of a…’
‘Are you OK?’
‘What the hell hit me?’
I didn’t feel like explaining – I just wanted to get out of there, so I said, ‘One of those Brownies must have thrown something.’
‘Well, it hurt. Would I be overreacting if I shot one with an arrow?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even if it was just in the leg?’
‘Yes. Come on, we have to get out of here.’
I tried to help him to his feet but with four packs on my back there wasn’t that much I could do. We skirted around the corner and found Araf waiting for us with Spideog still out cold on his shoulder. Even though the ice sheet that had almost killed us earlier was mostly not there any more, Araf suggested we rope-up, and I agreed with him. As the snow started to come down harder and the wind picked up, I fantasised about starting a Real World/Land smuggling operation. The first thing I would import was thermal underwear.
We made it all the way around the mountain. I called a halt just before we came to the part of the path where we could be seen by the Yew House above. Araf didn’t argue with me. I was exhausted walking with the packs and Araf must have been shattered carrying a man on his shoulder. I got a fire going with some kindling I found in Spideog’s bag, brewed up some willow tea and got some into the injured archer. It did the trick.
‘Where is my bow?’
‘Take it easy, Spideog. Don’t try to talk.’
The old guy grabbed my shoulder and opened his eyes. ‘My bow, where is it?’
‘Rest,’ I said.
‘Tell him,’ Brendan said.
‘You tell him.’
‘I was out cold. If you know what happened to his bow then tell him.’
‘My bow,’ Spideog said, trying to get to his feet, ‘I must go back for it.’
‘Wooh, big guy, you are in no fit shape to go anywhere. Your bow is gone. The Oracle trashed it.’
‘What do you mean trashed it? You mean he took it.’
‘No, sir, it’s trashed, destroyed. He waved his hand and it exploded into splinters.’
‘That is not possible,’ he said, grabbing me by my coat. ‘You lie.’
Araf reached over and gently took his hand from my lapel. ‘It is true, Master. I saw it with my own eyes. This fell from your clothing when I first put you down.’ Araf handed him a splintered piece of yew wood.
He took it and began to cry. ‘It is true,’ he moaned, ‘I am not worthy.’
It was hard to watch a man so strong look so defeated. I rummaged through the bags until I found the flask of poteen that my mother had given me before we left and administered some to the unresisting archer. Brendan held him until he slipped back into unconsciousness.
Araf and I debated how long we should rest. I thought it would be a good idea to wait until dark before we entered the part of the path that exposed us to attack from the Yew House above, but Araf thought we should get going before the snow got so bad that we all just slipped off the side of the mountain. I agreed with him when I realised I could no longer feel my toes.
I didn’t even bother to look up when we were in sight of the Yew House. I figured it wouldn’t take much to take us out and if it came, I didn’t really want to see it coming. Despite our fears, we passed unmolested. We donned crampons when we reached the ice ford we had crossed earlier. The snow on the other side was starting to drift so we tried keeping our crampons on but there wasn’t enough snow for that. Crampons are great on ice and packed snow but on solid rock they just make your footing worse. Saying that, when we took them off we still slipped all over the place. After Brendan went down and almost slipped off the side, we all put a single crampon on one foot. We marched through the night limping like the winning team at a shin-kicking competition.
Three quarters of the way down the mountain the snow turned to rain. Wool and rain are not a good mix. It made me feel sorry for sheep. We found a wide and almost sheltered part of the path and camped for what remained of the night. The tea and stale rations did nothing to lift our mood. I had a feeling only a hot bath and a dry change of clothes could do that for me and I wasn’t sure if Spideog would ever recover.
Spideog mumbled in his sleep at first but then like the rest of us settled down until awakened by a damp dawn. Brendan shook me awake from what was becoming a recurring dream of Essa holding hands with an invisible man. What did that dream mean? Was the invisible man supposed to be me?
The fog was so bad that dawn was almost unnoticeable; the view seemed as if we were looking at a white sheet. It was damp cold and the squelching noise my trousers made as I got up cemented my misery.
Spideog was up and on his feet. He walked like a man in a trance. Without a word he began to break camp so we followed suit and then trekked after him down the mountain.
‘Has he said anything?’ I whispered to Brendan.
‘Not a word,’ he replied behind his hand. ‘He just got up and got going. Are you going to say anything to him?’
‘I’m not going to talk to him – you talk to him.’
‘I’m not talking to him.’
We both looked to Araf.
‘I don’t say anything to anybody,’ the Imp mumbled. ‘I am not starting now.’
We followed the silent archer down the mountain. For a guy who had just been pulverised by an evil warlock
