of the barns smoldered in the distance.
Tears streamed down Ethan’s cheeks even as he fought the urge to break down. Nothing moved on the farm as he and Whistler approached the main house. He did not have any idea what he was going to do or even what he could do. Ethan had always depended upon Elspeth.
Mustering his courage, Ethan climbed down from Whistler’s saddle and walked toward the open front door. As he got closer, it became apparent the door was not merely standing open-it was gone. The entire frame was missing along with it.
The house still smoldered, and light funneled into the main room from a large hole in the ceiling created by the fire. Ethan walked inside. The room was a complete shamble. The furniture, not destroyed by fire, lay smashed into kindling by…something.
Ethan saw no blood and no body. He was alarmed, yet relieved at the same time. Where could she be, if not here in the house? Ethan moved quicker now, emboldened by the lack of his sister’s body. He made a quick survey through all of the rooms in the house, still turning up nothing.
Outside, around the farm, Ethan found seven bodies, all men. He recognized them as the field hands Mr. Howinger kept on regular salary to help work his farm. Some of them had been family men. Casting an eye back toward Grandee and the smoke billowing into the sky above it, Ethan wondered what had become of their wives and children.
A complete search of the buildings on Howinger’s farm still did not turn up Elspeth’s body. Ethan was glad she remained missing, at least as long as she was safe. He just had to find her. The only other possibility was that Elspeth might have been in town for some reason.
Ethan knew he had to go into Grandee. It was likely he would find the same sort of carnage found on the road where Howinger’s delegation had been killed. He climbed into the saddle, urging Whistler back down the road. Reluctantly, Ethan rode toward the town and whatever nightmare awaited him.
One half hour later, Ethan rode into the town of Grandee. Some buildings still burned, but most were spent and smoldering. Homes in the outlying perimeter area were nothing but burnt shells. The bodies of the young and old littered the streets.
As Ethan and Whistler passed the Council Chamber Building, he spotted a body wearing a velvet waistcoat. He turned the horse to pass closer. Sure enough, the lifeless form of Council Chairman, Tom Grandee, lay there on the dirt road. Scarlet stains and dust covered his clothes. His face was a mask of terror. Ethan moved on.
An eerie pattern emerged as Ethan continued to ride through the town. Oddly enough, he could not find any women among the dead. Did the Wraith Rider take them prisoner? Ethan hated to think about why the women would have been taken captive from Grandee while the men were killed. But if that was the case, then at least Elspeth was still alive.
As he continued riding into the business district of Grandee, Ethan heard voices speaking somewhere in the distance. He could not see anyone yet. The sounds came from one street over, so he urged Whistler on in order to investigate.
When Ethan rounded the buildings blocking his view, he saw three men rummaging through the clothes of those lying slain in the streets. He knew nearly everyone who had lived in Grandee. And these men did not. Fury struck Ethan in the chest as he understood what they were doing-looting the dead.
His sword sang out as he pulled the weapon from its scabbard on Whistler’s saddle. The men, so engrossed in their disrespect for Grandee’s fallen, did not notice the horse come into view on the street ahead of them. But when they heard the drumming of hooves on hard ground and Ethan’s war cry, they lifted their heads in stunned surprise.
Ethan gouged his heels into Whistler’s flanks and the horse sprang forward as if he had merely been waiting to be unleashed. Ethan held the blade aloft as he approached the three men. They tried to find their weapons as the boy closed in on them.
The men were all dressed in knee-length, crimson robes tied at the waist with white sashes. Loose fitting crimson breeches became tight at the ankle atop simple slip-on style shoes. One man carried a Bo staff, another carried a sword, and the third produced no weapons at all.
Ethan approached the unarmed man and swung his sword down in a wide arc. He had never used a weapon before. It felt clumsy in his hand. Ethan nearly fell off Whistler as the bouncing in the saddle, combined with the weight of his weapon, threatened to toss him into the street.
The leader of the oddly dressed looters bent backward at the waist halfway to the ground, allowing the point of Ethan’s blade to pass over him. The man actually smiled as Ethan made the pass and missed. It seemed the boy’s feeble attempt to kill him actually amused him.
Ethan barely recovered, straightening himself in the saddle before coming upon the man with the Bo staff. Ethan tried to bring the sword down this time. He aimed for the man’s head, striking out. The man simultaneously dodged his head sideways and struck Ethan in the arm with the end of the staff.
The blow, compounded with trying to ride the speeding horse, sent Ethan over the other side of the saddle and down into the dusty street. The fall knocked the wind out of him, but he did not waste anytime getting back up. His anger and adrenaline gave him more speed and strength than he normally had. However, Ethan simply was not the warrior he imagined himself to be.
When he stood, the three men had formed a tight group in the street. The leader was standing just ahead of the other two flanking him on either side. All three men laughed at Ethan. He located his sword. It had stuck into the earthen street, still wobbling back and forth a little when Ethan reached to pull it out.
He glanced at the men again, sneering at them as he prepared to unleash his fury upon these criminals. But they did not appear the least bit threatened by the armed, angry boy before them. The leader motioned to Bo staff with a nod. He came forward with his six-foot piece of hickory, twirling it around his body in tight circles. The wood became a circular blur. The man brought it around, stopping its motion precisely, taking a defensive stance. He then curled his index finger, challenging Ethan to charge him.
Ethan thought twice about making another attack. Then he thought about it again, supposing that his steel blade could cut the wood to splinters, if he could just hit it. Ethan took a chance and charged. At the last moment, he swept up with his blade. It clattered off the staff as the man deflected his strike and countered, whacking Ethan in the back, toying with him.
Ethan faltered, but realized he was near the leader who was just standing there laughing. Without warning, Ethan turned and swiped horizontally at the man’s neck. He was close enough to have decapitated the man. But instead, the man deftly fell backward, arching his back with his hands on the ground behind him. In the same swift motion, his feet came up under Ethan’s hands, striking the hilt of his sword. The weapon flew from Ethan’s grasp as the man completed his back flip and stood up again.
It happened too fast for Ethan to react. He was now unarmed, and his wrist ached terribly. The man followed his maneuver by leaping into the air toward the boy. His body rotated elegantly in mid-air and brought the back of his foot around, smashing Ethan across the side of the face. The blow was bone jarring. Ethan spun in place like a top, falling over like an old drunk.
MORDECAI
“I can’t believe that kid thought he could actually win against priests of Shaddai,” Bo staff said.
“Maybe he didn’t realize who we are,” the leader said.
“He must have been living under a rock then, Mordecai. Anyone who knows anything knows about The Order,” the man with the sword said.
“Let’s see what he’s got then. You two check his horse,” Mordecai commanded.
Whistler stood only thirty feet away. The men ran over to the horse and caught him by the reins. Whistler normally might have fled from these strangers, but the animal remained loyal to its master, Ethan.
The two men rummaged through the saddlebags, but did not find anything more than a few more weapons and some food and water. Mordecai began to rummage through the young boy’s clothing. He found nothing of consequence, no money. But when he pushed back the sleeve on the boy’s right arm, his eyes transfixed on
