“Baildon?” Flinn whispered. The scene shifted a little, though only slightly. At the edge of town, two orcs stood over the body of a stout, bloodied man who still carried a cleaver in his hand. Although the man was lying face down in the muddy snow, they knew it was Baildon. A spear stood upright in his back.
The two orcs squabbled, one of them putting his foot on Baildon and pointing at the man. The orcs savagely shoved each other and bickered loudly. One wore a red-plumed helmet, and Jo figured he must be the Rooster. The other was probably Greasetongue. She wanted to ask Flinn if he understood anything they said, but his face was so intent that she didn’t dare distract him.
The crystal shattered. Jo had expected that to happen, but it startled her nonetheless. Silence fell on the little camp, broken only by the quiet snapping of the fire. Jo and Flinn both stared blankly into the flame’s depths.
“I should have been there, Jo. I should have been there,” Flinn said at last. “I shouldn’t have let Baildon talk me into leaving. He needed my help. I knew he needed my help.”
“Flinn, don’t talk like that!” Jo turned to him and gripped his arm. “Flinn, look at me! Look at me!”
Jo sensed the effort it took the warrior to turn from the flames and look at his squire. When he did, she grabbed his other arm and locked eyes with him. “Flinn, do you honestly think that you alone-that you, me, and Dayin-could have saved Bywater from all those orcs? Do you?” Her eyes flashed.
The man’s dark gaze narrowed, and his eyes glistened wetly. He reached out and gripped Jo’s arms, his touch painful. “I could have warned them somehow, could have held off the hordes while they escaped,” Flinn said raggedly. She leaned nearer. “Flinn, what do you mean?”
Flinn ground his teeth and glanced to the side. His grip on her arms remained tight. Jo hoped he drew some strength from her in that moment. At last he turned back to her. “That was the Rooster and Greasetongue standing over Baildon’s body,” he said slowly. “I know a little orcish-enough to get the gist of what they were talking about.”
Jo tightened her hands. “What did they say, Flinn?” His face flushed and he swallowed hard. “Tell me what’s wrong, Flinn,” she said. “Whatever it is, tell me.”
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and choked. “The orcs were… sent to Bywater. They were supposed to sack the village.”
“Why?”
“They were arguing because they couldn’t find my body. One said that the man beneath his feet-Baildon-was me; the other disagreed. I was supposed to be there-they’d been told that I would be there, Jo,” Flinn’s hands fell from Jo’s arms.
“Who told the orcs you’d be there?”
Flinn hung his head for a moment, then turned back to Jo. His eyes had grown hard as nails. “Verdilith,” he said, licking his dry Ups. “Verdilith sent the orcs to Bywater and told them I would be there. Verdilith promised them the town to sack as well as my hide. The orcs agreed readily enough, since they have no love of me and they were in need of food. But they didn’t find me, and they found only a portion of the town left for them to savage. Verdilith hadn’t told them what he’d done to By water only a few nights before.” Flinn spat into the fire. “The orcs were supposed to find and kill me.”
“But why would Verdilith think you’d be in Bywater?” Jo asked, removing her own hands from Flinn. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if you know that my home was destroyed the day before,” Flinn answered through clenched teeth. “It makes perfect sense if you know I have no supplies and have to head for the nearest town to get them.”
Jo shook her head. “I don’t understand. How would Verdilith…?” Her voice trailed off as dread welled up within her.
Flinn nodded. “Sir Brisbois.” Jo caught Flinn’s expression in the light of the campfire, and she shivered in fear. The man continued, “The death of Bywater is on my hands now, Jo.” He shook his head when she protested. “They were killed because of me.”
Jo watched Flinn’s face in the firelight, then took his hands in hers and waited for him to look at her. “Flinn, your death would have meant nothing to the people of Bywater. With you still alive there is the chance for goodness to redeem itself. There is the chance of vengeance,” she said slowly, her eyes locked on his. “It’s the only thing I can offer you. Their deaths will not be in vain if you slay Verdilith.”
Flinn pulled her to him and wrapped his arms about her, but Jo knew he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. He stroked her braid and whispered, “Verdilith and Brisbois will both pay for the death of Bywater, Jo-and for the death of my honor.”
Chapter X
The storm broke by morning. The trio left the ravine, heading once more for higher ground. Ariac had recovered from the grueling pace they had maintained yesterday, though Flinn had to fashion new leather pads to cushion the griffon’s claws. The additional snow from last night’s storm made travel slow and tiresome, even in the windswept, rocky barrens they now traversed. All the while, they scanned the western hills, neither seeing nor hearing any orcs.
The weather turned cold and clear. The sun, glittering brightly off the snow, did little to warm the travelers. The wind had stopped howling and the chill air was sharp and silent. Flinn found no trace of the orcs’ passing in the deep snow. Flinn, Jo, and Dayin struck northward, glad the Castellan was still in sight and that the orcs were not.
“We travel north,” Flinn said when they stopped at the top of a large hill, “until we see the Broken Arch. It’s a rock formation near the Castellan. There we head west to find Braddoc’s home.”
“If we head west, Flinn, do you think we’ll run into any of the Rooster’s tribe returning home?” Jo asked.
Flinn shrugged. “That’s a chance we’ll have to take, but I think it’s an unlikely one. I think they’re all still in Bywater. Verdilith probably had to threaten them severely to get them down to the village so quickly. They’ll take their time coming back, I’m sure.”
Jo was puzzled. “Just why didn’t they attack us at the ford?”
“My guess is Verdilith told them to move-and move fast. I think he told the orcs not to bother attacking anything north of the river because that would slow them down. Rooster only sent the patrol after his tribe was south of us,” Flinn said, then squinted up at the sun. “Time to move out. If we’re lucky, we’ll be to Braddoc’s by evening.” He gave Ariac a light tap, and they continued down the hill. Both Flinn and Jo kept the western hills under surveillance.
The hours yielded no sign of orcs. Jo felt her guard relax a little, then chided herself. A squire is always on guard to protect her master, she told herself sternly.
The three of them kept up the fastest pace Flinn dared set for Ariac. They reached the Broken Arch at midmorning, and Flinn turned the group west. He led them through the rough countryside, trying to find the easiest path between the twisted hills. At midday, they halted for a brief respite. Jo brought out the dry trail rations and passed them out.
“How much farther, Flinn?” Jo asked. She stood behind him as he checked Ariac’s front claws.
“Another three, maybe four hours,” Flinn grunted, then stood up, rubbing his hands.
“Is Ariac going to make it?” She stroked the griffon’s feathered neck.
Flinn nodded. “Yes, I think so. He’ll have to.” His eyes restlessly roamed the hillsides. “It’s time to go.”
Once again the trio mounted up and continued through the silent, barren Wulfholdes. Johauna realized she hadn’t seen anything moving the entire day. The lack of birds and animals began to worry her, and she wondered if she was the only one who felt that way. Dayin was preoccupied with his own thoughts, and Flinn seemed unconcerned. Jo stilled the feelings inside her. The trio continued to ride, halting only once for a brief stop when Jo’s horse Carsig picked up a rock in his hoof.
Just as twilight fell, they found a stone house sheltered at the base of a craggy cliff. Beside it stood a number of huge red pines, embracing the house with their branches. The pattern of the bark was still visible in the fading light. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and a cheery light glowed from the windows. Jo thought she had never seen a more welcoming sight, for she was frozen to her very bones. Her legs were stiff and saddle-sore.
