Wild Watchtower: Shield & Claw Book One

Chapter Thirty-Four: There's Whiskey in the Jar

Styrkr paced back and forth across the corner of former building, running his hand through his hair again and again as he tried to process the revelation, which I'd dropped on him with as much finesse as Grimfæng had dropped it on me. While I fought down frustration and sorrow, he struggled to move past his denial. Even when he did, dread took it's place. Dread, with a side dish of guilt because he truly believed our bond would bring me naught but pain and suffering, if not death itself.

"It's alright," I repeated again.

"No, it's not." He gave a violent shake of his head. "We need to get you to the dragon riders, then we need to beg one of them to take you to Móinéarglas. Despite my promise to your father - or maybe because of it - I need to place you in another's care. We need distance between us. I need to keep you safe!"

His voice grew louder with every word, fear eradicating caution.

"You can't keep me safe!" I yelled back, needing him to hear me; to understand me. "There is no safety now. Stay or go, your choice, but what happens to me now won't be the result of what you do or don't do; it'll be a result of the real evil in the world."

A chuckle whispered from the foliage to the right of us; amused but cold and callous sounding. The voice that followed held a similar icy chill as a stranger noted, "That's uh matter o' perspective. One could claim that ushering ye inte mah domain for th' purpose o' uh argiement is th' cause o' what's aboot t' befall ye. Yer lucky w' didn' kill ye ootright, 'specially as nekid wanderers don' carry much o' value, but ah'm pleased w' chose t' eavesdrop. Heir t' th' throne, ye say? Tha' be Veðrheimr's throne, ah tek it? An' th' future mate o' uh wolven lord alongside... It's wor lucky day; uh prince'll fetch pretty ransom, an' uh lady should add t' our coffers, wouldn' ye say lads?"

From hidden within the cover of trees, bushes, and hanging vines, a chorus of mocking cheers erupted. The circle wasn't yet complete as our assailants must have stayed downwind as they crept up on us, but that wouldn't remain the case for long. Now that they'd revealed themselves, they'd close the gap quickly, and we couldn't afford to be penned in. Not when it sounded as though we were woefully outnumbered.

Styrkr must have decided the same thing. He took a backwards step, grabbing my wrist and ushering me towards our only escape. Only then the silver and wood barrel of a matchlock pistol pressed forward from behind a curtain of ivy, closely followed by a hand with a finger already on the pistol's lever and a long match smouldering in readiness. The arm of a golden-brown doublet came next, and the rest of the highwayman followed, clad in a loose, green buttoned coat in a tone not dissimilar to old leaves. The rogue's dirty blond hair was mostly tied back, only a few wisps falling around his face, but not hiding the pointed tips of his ears.

Elves. That explained their soundless approach.

His blue eyes were a slate colour that looked almost as stormy as Styrkr's. His smirk broadened as he appraised us, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made me feel ashamed of my body for the first time in my life. I wrapped my arms around my chest and wished I had clothing, but then Styrkr stepped in front of me, snarling at the brigand and baring lengthening fangs; promising violence if our assailant dared touch me.

"Ye might wan' t' rethink wer yer gannin', lad. Mah finger's feelin' uh tad twitchy on this 'ere lever, an' ye won' fetch much coin wi' lead in yer chest. Ah'd alsay hate t' disfigure th' lassy afair she gits t' 'er mate..."

The warning didn't ease the growl still vibrating from Styrkr's throat, but he glanced around at the others creeping from the shadows - at least ten of them - and must have realised that fighting wouldn't end well for us, not even if we shifted into a fur.

"If you eavesdropped, then you must have heard that I have magic. If you or your men take a single step closer, you'll be dead before you fire a shot," Styrkr hissed, but even I knew it was a bluff offered in desperation.