Blood in Snow (20 page)

“Hurry! T-t-take, take … off …” He tugged with blue, trembling fingers at the wet tunic clinging to his quaking body.

A thrashing hand appeared above the water; a large ruby ring flashed in the morning light.

“Hur-hurry!” Edmund tried to kick off his boots. “P-p-pa, pants. Take off p-pants!”

“I, I can’t take off your—!”

“Hurry!”

Eyes closed, Abby fumbled to pull off Edmund’s stiffening pants.

King Lionel’s head popped above the water. He tried to scream but sank back under the circle of broken ice.

Now naked, Edmund lay shaking on the snow. “Over, over, over …” He pointed to his dry clothes and blankets just outside the trampled snow circle. “G-g-get, g-get, get …”

Abby dashed to his supplies as Lionel’s head appeared for a second time, eyes bulging, mouth contorted in agony.

Edmund rolled over and extended his staff into the water. A pale blue hand seized it. The lords and knights on the hilltop to the east, suddenly aware of what had just happened, gave a collective cry and raced down the slope as fast as the deep snow would allow.

Abby rushed up to Edmund with his clothes, head turned so she couldn’t see his naked, trembling body. “Here!”

Edmund pulled Lionel to the edge of the ice, but couldn’t haul him out of the water.

“Help me!” he said to Abby.

Grabbing the King’s golden breastplate, Abby heaved. Then she saw Lionel’s panic-stricken face. She let go.

“Him?” she said incredulously. “Ed! That’s … that’s King Lionel!”

“Help,” Lionel said, barely able to breathe, clawing at the ice. He slowly slid back into the water. “Lordships …”

“Ab-b-b-b!” Edmund said, shaking.

Abby grabbed the King’s breastplate again and yanked him onto the ice.

The King lay stiff on the snow, trembling.

“F-f-fire, fire.” Edmund pointed to the woodpile well away from the ice. “Get me to …” He pointed again.

Painfully aware Edmund still didn’t have clothes on, Abby wrapped a dry cloak around his shoulders and stuffed a hat onto his dripping head. Then she lifted him up.

Standing by the convulsing King, Becky growled, while a hundred horsemen thundered toward them.

“Stop!” Edmund nodded at the riders. “Ice! B-b-break!”

In sudden understanding, Abby dashed toward the riders, waving her arms. “Stop! Stop! This is ice! This is ice! You’ll—”

The lead horses reached the edge of the frozen lake. Ice cracked beneath the snow.

“Stop!” Abby yelled. “Go back! Go back! It’s all ice!”

Some riders reined their horses in. Others kept charging, ice breaking beneath their horses’ pounding hooves. Horses and riders collapsed into the water with wild whinnies and screams.

Edmund staggered to the woodpile and cast his fire spell.

“
Fyre av nå!
”

It erupted into a glorious blaze of heat. Teeth chattering, Edmund cast his healing spell a third time, hoping to stave off the frostbite sure to come if he didn’t get warm. He pulled on the rest of the clothes Abby had flung at him.

At the other end of the snow-covered lake, riders retreated, some shouting to their King. Becky leapt around Edmund, who staggered to where Lionel lay. Lionel stared into the morning sky with unseeing eyes, entire body shaking. Edmund touched the King’s cold, wet brow and cast his healing spell under his breath.

He lifted the King to his feet. “Hurry. Fire. Fire … will, will w-w-warm you. Hurry.” They staggered to the bonfire. “Ab-Abby! Get, get his coat and cl-clo-cloak. Over, over there!”

Abby ran to the King’s discarded outer clothes. By the fire, Edmund began pulling off Lionel’s breastplate. Lionel’s freezing hand caught Edmund’s.

“If we don’t g-g-get, if we d-d-don’t, don’t get these off of you,” Edmund told him, “y-you’ll, you’ll die!”

Lionel’s widened eyes shifted to Abby.

“Abby,” Edmund said, “turn your back!”

Abby was more than willing to do as she was told.

Edmund undid the straps to the King’s breastplate; it clattered to the snow. “And, and g-g-go, go see if, if any of those men have any dr-dry clothes, bl-blankets, anything, Abby. He’s, he’s fr-fr-freeze, freezing to death!”

Abby ran off, calling to the riders.

The King gurgled out a guttural noise, but what he was trying to say, Edmund couldn’t tell. He wrapped the fur-lined cloak around the King’s massive shoulders.

Lionel began to jerk spastically. “Wh-wh-wh—”

“Shut up and get closer to the f-fire.” Edmund guided the King nearer to the flames. “And get your pants off. Ab-Abby’s g-getting you dr-dry, dry clothes.”

Abby sprinted back. Men followed, stepping tentatively on the snow-covered ice.

“Y-y-y-y,” the King stammered.

“Shut up.” Edmund rubbed Lionel’s hands. “Lean into the fire. Get closer.”

Abby wrapped a blanket around Edmund’s shoulders.

“Not me.” He pushed the blanket toward the King, who immediately seized it to cover his exposed lower body.

“Wh-wh-wh?”

The King’s men finally reached them.

“Are you all right, sire?” one asked, throwing another blanket around the shivering King. “Your Majesty, can you hear me?”

Others ran up, each tossing coats and furs and blankets onto their King. Abby yanked one off and wrapped it around Edmund. One of the lords tried to snatch it back, but Becky snapped at him, and he let go.

“Are you okay?” Abby rubbed Edmund’s back and pulled his hat farther down over his wet ears. “You could have been killed! And why did you save this?” She jabbed a disgusted thumb at Lionel, now nearly buried in blankets and extra clothing.

“D-do, do you have a horse?” Edmund asked her.

“Yes, it’s tied to a tree up there.” She motioned to the northern hills.

“R-r-ride, ride to Rood. Get extra clothes, pants, and boots, okay?”

Abby eyed the knights huddled around their King.

“What about them? They’ll be able to follow my tracks.”

Edmund shook his head. Freezing water dribbled down his stiff hair and numb forehead. He fought to move his lips. “Safe. We’re, we’re safe.”

The King stood behind them now, covered in furs. He was still shivering, but his skin was no longer an icy blue.

“Wh, why, why—?”

“Why d-did, why did I save you?” Edmund asked. “Because everybody’s life is—”

“No. I kn-know why you saved me. I’m the, the king! Of course you’d save me.” He snorted. “It’s … it’s your d-d-du, duty!”

“You’re welcome,” Edmund said sharply. “I expect you to keep your promise about the Highlands.”

“B-but you did not w-w-win the battle!” the King said.

Edmund threw his hands up. “Do you really want me to kill you?” He patted his bare waist for his weapon belt, but it was on the ground by the hole.

Abby handed him her dagger.

Five knights drew their weapons.

Becky snarled, but the wary knights didn’t give ground.

“You d-did, did, did not d-defeat me,” the King said proudly. “I have yet to be killed in b-battle!”

Oh, for the love of …

“All right,” Edmund said. “If you want to fight to the death, fine. Tell your men to give us room and not intervene.” He backed away from the fire for more space to maneuver.

The King took a knight’s longsword.

“Ed?” Abby said.

“Abby, you and B-Becky get off the ice.” Edmund held her dagger at the ready. “I have a feeling it’s going to break again, and this time, I’m not going to s-save this Royal Idiot.”

At this, the King hesitated as he and his men looked anxiously at their feet.

“Get off the ice,” the King said to his knights.

They quickly retreated to a grove of trees.

“Ed?” Abby repeated.

“Abby, get off the ice,” Edmund said, as he and the King circled each other. “Stay by the fire. You’ll be safe.”

“But—”

“I know what I’m doing. If I kill him, the Highlands will be free. Now go! I can’t let you distract me. Get the hell off the ice!”

“Okay. Come on, Becky.”

Becky didn’t move.

“Becky! Go with Abby!” Edmund said.

Reluctantly, Becky obeyed.

King Lionel swung his sword in a jerky motion, as though his arm were a rusty hinge, and missed Edmund by several feet.

“You c-c-annot d-d-defeat me in battle. Nobody can! Especially not with a, a, a d-dagger. I am a k-king! Kings are never defeated by daggers!”

Edmund laughed, his body shivering again now that he was away from the fire.

“What?” the King asked, stalking closer. “What are you laughing at?”

“I was just wondering … how are y-your minstrels going to sing about two half-naked men f-fighting to the death in the snow?”

The King looked down, suddenly realizing he still had no pants on.

He chuckled.

“An interesting tale, n-no doubt! But I’ll have the minstrels overlook that minor detail.”

He swung his sword over his head, taking a defensive stand.

“And will they overlook the fact that I dragged you out of freezing water?” Edmund tried to keep his bare feet from touching the burning snow for too long. “I saved your life.”

“But you have not defeated me!”

Stupid ass! His pride won’t—

Pride. Open your mind, and see things from his point of view. He isn’t evil, he’s just …

Edmund retreated a few steps, unwilling to move farther from the fire.

Give him what he wants.

“No,” he said through clenched teeth, “you’re right. I didn’t defeat you.”

“Ha!” the King cried, but he was again starting to shake uncontrollably, his face losing its color. “Then you admit it!”

Edmund stopped. The snow bit his wet toes. He sighed.

Give him what he wants. Go ahead.

“I admit it.” He tossed the dagger at the King’s feet.

“Ed!” Abby shouted.

Lionel looked at the dagger, then back at Edmund. “What are you d-d-do, doing, man? P-p-pick, pick up your weapon! P-pick, pick it up, r-right this in-instant!”

“I can’t beat you in battle,” Edmund forced himself to say. “You’re King Lionel the Fair, the greatest warrior of our age.”

Lionel straightened, both pleased and surprised.

“So it seems you have two choices.” Edmund wrapped a blanket around himself and headed back to the blazing fire. “You can kill me, right here and n-now, unarmed.”

“O-o-or?”

“You could give me the Highlands in reward for saving your life.”

The King seemed to consider this.

“Like you said, there’s nothing here you want.” Edmund warmed his hands. “You called it a hellhole, I believe.”

“It is a m-m-mis, miserable place,” the King confessed.

Edmund faced him.

“Then give it to me, and have your minstrels sing ballads of your unprecedented grace and fairness.” The King started, so Edmund added quickly, “And how nobody has ever killed you in battle.”

Lionel lowered his sword and approached the fire.

“What do you want with this godforsaken place?”

“It’s my home,” Edmund said, “and I’d die for it if I had to. So would many people.”

Lionel nodded. “That, I understand.” He gazed around at the forested hills covered in snow. “It would be a kingly gift.”

“One sung about for ages upon ages,” Edmund agreed. “What other king has been so generous?”

“True.”

“Then you’ll give me the Highlands?”

“I know!” the King cried. “I shall make you Lord of the Highlands!”

“No,” Edmund said firmly. “I don’t want to be a lord. I just want the Highlands.”

“What if we have our armies—?”

“No!”

Don’t antagonize him. Give him what he wants.

Edmund adjusted his tone. “Your Highness, you’d offered lordship over the Highlands to anybody who’d found the Star of Iliandor, correct?”

“Yes, and you brought—”

Edmund waved, quieting him. “What would other kings and lords think if you gave your own life so little worth?”

Lionel stared, perplexed.

“Think of it this way,” Edmund said. “Suppose you were captured by an enemy—which would never happen, of course!”

“Of course!”

“But if you were, how high would your ransom be? How much is your life worth to those around you? If you only give me lordship over these lands—a lordship you would have given me just for finding a silly trinket—then, well … you’re saying your life isn’t worth much.”

“Yes, I see,” the King said gravely. “But what of the glory of battle?”

An idea occurred to Edmund; it shook him as much as the cold. “You want battle?”

The King’s eyes lit up.

“I will tell you this, Edwin, if your army gives me battle, I may see fit in granting you these lands.”

“I will do you one better.” The cold made it difficult for Edmund to smile. “I know where you can have battle, a real battle with a worthy foe, one that’ll likely outnumber your army many times over.”

“Who? Those horse-breeding bastards in Havendor?” Lionel cursed and shook his sword. “I’ll make that stinking Ambrose change his tune! He calls himself a king!”

“No, not with Havendor.”

“Then who?”

Edmund’s chilled grin widened somewhat. He tilted his head toward the distant northeastern peaks.

“There are goblins in those mountains. Lots of goblins!”

The King studied the mountains doubtfully.

“Goblins? Are you sure?”

“I would stake my life, and the Highlands, on it.”

The King reexamined the peaks with a new determination.

Make him believe.

“Still, the problem is, Your Majesty,” said Edmund, “they far outnumber you and your men, several times over. It’s said there are twenty thousand goblins hidden under the northernmost peaks.”

“Twenty thousand! Why, I believe I’ve heard that before, though I thought it was just a joke!”

“It’s no joke, sire. And I warn you, if you go that way, you may get more battle than you can handle.”

The King glowered at the mountains, fury thawing out his cold face.

“Where are they?” he shouted. “Where are these miserable goblins skulking?”

“I’ll tell you, but I have my price.”

“The Highlands, no doubt.”

“I’ll lead you to them, draw you maps of the region, and I’ll even show you where to enter their mines and where to ambush them … but I want the Highlands in return.”