The King with Six Friends

A Stone's Throw

Edge looped back around the longhouse toward the well, keeping out of sight from two guards.

The closer he got, the clearer he could see a form hunched over on a metal post. It looked like a stone statue sullenly crouched with its hands bound in chains. It had clothes made of cloth, which took away the statuesque effect. When he was only a few paces away, the statue slowly raised its head to see who had come. Accumulated frost clung to its face. It stared at him silently like a gargoyle.

"Another beating? In the middle of the night?" Its voice came gravely and coarse.

"Selby sent me. You're Pétur, right?" said Edge. He approached to undo the chains, but Pétur put a stone foot in his path. "I'm trying to help," Edge explained.

"How do I know if I can trust you?" Pétur rumbled.

"I told you, Selby sent me," Edge said with slight frustration.

Pétur stared at the ground in dumb concentration. "How do I know if Selby sent you?"

Edge stared exasperatedly at the statue man, wondering if everyone in this village was crazy.

At that moment, a tiny owl flitted down and landed on Pétur's knee. It was Astryn. She softly hooted at him and ruffled her feathers. Pétur nodded and Astryn flew away toward the village. Whatever the message conveyed must have convinced him.

"Fine, then," Pétur said, turning back so that Edge could get to his chains. "If Astryn trusts you, I trust you."

Edge put a frustrated hand to his forehead. "Perfect." He grabbed his hatchet and started working on the chains. He would only have to break a few links to free Pétur, but it was hazardously loud. The cold night carried the sound all around the fjord.

When he had almost finished, a soldier spotted them. "Hey! What're you doing!" Edge could hear the soldier getting closer as he frantically broke through the rest of the chains. He only had three more until the line could fall apart.

Just as he was about to break the last one, Pétur shoved him out of the way. The grating sound of metal on stone clashed harshly while Edge scrambled back to his feet. The hatchet was knocked out of Edge's hand and was too far to reach in time.

Edge jumped up and tackled the soldier from behind. He pulled him to the ground off of the stone man. Edge rolled out of the way of the mace's swing, which cracked down on a rock and split it in two.

While Pétur pulled on the chains in an attempt to free himself, Edge dodged and flinched away from the mace's attacks. Edge rushed forward, keeping low to the ground, and took the soldier down by the waist. The mace knocked painfully against his side, likely bruising a few ribs.

An audible chink came as the chains broke and Pétur finally joined the tumble. With a single hit over the head, the soldier was knocked out cold. He crumpled into a heap.

"Ah, that smarts bad," Edge groaned, holding his side with the bruised ribs. Pétur grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Standing at full height, Pétur was at least three heads taller than Edge. He wasn't just tall, he was a giant.

"So-" Pétur scratched at the chipped shards on his head- "What do you need me for?"

"A distraction-" Edge retrieved the hatchet and clipped it back on his belt. "while Ingrid gets into a charm cabinet, you need to keep the soldiers occupied."

"Ingrid's here?" Pétur's stony face was frozen blank, but the tone in his voice told a story.

Three soldiers rounded the corner and came into view. They shouted for reinforcements and charged toward them. Without a moment's hesitation, Pétur dashed toward them, shaking the ground with every step. The soldiers fired crossbows and positioned their weapons, but he bowled them all over like porcelain dishes.