Chapter three is here, right on time! I do not own Faidn, Hollen, or Eliza, but everything else is out of me own mind. So there you have it.
'Oddly enough my very since of helplessness saved me and steadied me. For now I was quite obviously "drawn in."'
—from The Space Trilogy by C.S. Lewis
The O'Neil family lived deep in the woods. There were meadows for the horses, streams running off the mountain for water, berries for preserving, and all the game of the mountain for food and skins. What more could hunter and horseman want?
On horseback, the trek to town might only be an hour or so, there and back. Eliza used to say: 'What good is keeping chickens in fox country? How will we help ourselves to cream with bears around?' and send Faidn to buy milk and eggs. Lest Faidn's horsemanship be doubted, have you ever tried to trot a horse with a basket of eggs? So Faidn had walked this path often enough.
A few miles out from town were the Kerry Orchards. Old Man Kerry purchased them years before the town was settled, and people said his trees were older then the mountain itself. They were in autumn dress now; a myriad of gilded scarlet falling like flames when you walked beneath them. Then something caught Faidn's eye. Right against the road, so no traveler would miss it: a brightly covered wagon, hung with tassels and silver, and all kinds of gypsy baubles. That's odd. Thought Faidn, drawing closer, Rollo's band usually clears out at the first sign of fall.
The aforementioned band of gypsies had an agreement with Old Man Kerry that allowed them to live in the orchards during the mild Berensian summers. Whenever he could make it, Faidn would visit the rowdy bunch for a evening of festivities. Most gypsy bands weren't to be trusted, but Rollo and his people were more honest then most, and once befriended were loyal to the end; however close that end might be.
"Hello there!" Faidn cried, directing his attention to a petite gypsy with her back turned, "I thought you lot had cleared out weeks ago—Oh!"
The lady turned, unveiling a strange face.
"I'm sorry," Faidn attempted to amend, "I thought you were someone else. Rollo's folk stay here..."
"Yes, I know." The woman smiled, missing a few teeth, "We met them a few days ago. They lent us their wagon. See?"
Faidn nodded before remembering his manners and introducing himself.
"Faidn? From the mountain? Benedek sends his greetings." the woman said.
Faidn grinned. Next to Carvin, Ben was the best friend anyone could hope for.
"I'm Mara," She shook his hand, avoiding his eyes, "and likewise. Walk with me?"
Faidn fell in step, a little leery, but curious. Mara continued,
"You are an archer."
"Yes..." he answered, hesitant, "how did you know?"
"Your clothing gives you away. Your quiver strap has almost rubbed through your shirt."
"Fair enough." he shrugged, and they walked in silence for a ways, "So what is it you are wanting, Mara?"
"Excuse me?"
"You are being awfully friendly."
Mara cackled into hysteria.
"You know gypsies."
"I know Benedek."
She giggled.
"You must come and see. I don't think you will be as much help to me as I was hoping. My adversary, Tzigana, has a girl—she bought her, I think. Tzigana says she is the greatest archer in the world. She would pay gold to any who could produce a better. But your arm..."
"I understand. Sorry to disappoint." he replied shortly.
This is all rather odd. Faidn thought, getting annoyed.
"There is a gypsy festival." the woman told him, "To see who can best who: archery, sword fighting, boxing, wrestling, even matching wits."
"I'm afraid I'm no good for that last one. Or even any of the others in my present condition. And I didn't come walking through here to earn you money, Mara. Good day."
He turned and stalked off, but the gypsy fluttered after him.
"Wait! Wait! Only gypsies can be awarded the prize, but I'll give you," she eyed him shrewdly for a moment, "ten percent."
He narrowed his eyes, but chuckled to himself. Let's see what Da says when I bring in more gold then he could ever hope to. Even with a broken arm. He ignored the the nagging voice inside that told him he would do better to pay his father an apology rather then money.
"Sixty."
The woman hissed air between her teeth.
"No more then twenty percent."
"Humph. And I'll go for no less then fifty percent. Who's doing the work anyway?"
Mara was seething, but Faidn knew this was a gypsy trick to make you think you had won.
"Thirty-fi—" she began, and Faidn cut in.
"Done at forty!" He shook her hand. "Where to?"
Mara grinned, showing him blackened teeth. He tried not to wince.
"Follow me."
This is really very strange. Thought Faidn, upon viewing the festivities that were taking place. In a small clearing in the center of the orchard, young men—still boys really, leaped about with swords, fists, axes, and pikes. The few with bows were aiming for targets tied to trees. Leaves flew every time an arrow thunked into the target. And none of these men were gypsies.
"Over here," Mara motioned, leading him through the center of the flying weapons. Faidn ducked under a knife just in time. I'm too tall for this, he bemoaned.
"Ah Réz."
Mara stopped by a young archer, a girl, no more than ten. She had the thickest hair he had ever seen. It fell unbound past her waist in droves of shining red.
"Here is Master Faidn. He is an archer too."
Faidn started to smile, but the girl met his eyes, and he gulped. Never had he seen such a look of hopelessness and hatred wrapped together. It shook him.
"H-how old are you?" he stuttered.
"Eight." The girl replied, her voice perfectly empty.
"Come on!" Mara grasped his good arm and led him away as the girl turned and released a bullseye.
"This is Agmund. He is a fine swordsmen." Mara introduced him to a fair-haired man.
The man grunted and gave a nod.
"Agmund, this is Faidn, an archer. His arm though..."
"Faidn O'Neil? Off the mountain?" Agmund asked, looking sharply at him.
"Ye-yes. What of it?" Faidn frowned. This whole situation was not looking safe.
Agmund gave a low whistle, looking Faidn over as if unbelieving. He shook his head and asked another question.
"What do you know of sword play?"
"Not much. My friend taught me some. He is excellent," replied Faidn
"I see. Where is your friend?" Agmund peeked curiously, almost greedily, over Faidn's shoulder as if expecting Carvin to be standing there.
"He's not here," Faidn said, giving the man a strange look, "he's on his honeymoon."
"Ah, best of wishes to him," Agmund offered, his physiognomy clamming up again.
There was a moment of awkward silence between the two as Agmund reached into a pocket and wrestled out a dirty piece of paper. Faidn realized Mara had disappeared.
"If ye'll sign here," he offered Faidn a pen, "I'll let you have a go with one of my warriors here. No blood, were only playing points. If you win, ye'll have fifty in gold. Fair enough?"
Faidn shrugged. What's to lose? He took the quill and drew a small 'X' on the line without bothering to read what he signed. Agmund witnessed it for him.
"Over there." he motioned Faidn in the direction of a man passing out swords. Faidn walked slowly, suddenly realizing that he didn't know how to wield a sword right-handed. When the man gave him a heavy, rusted blade, Faidn gave a weak attempt at a stab and failed miserably. He was still wondering how he was going to pull this off when one of the few gypsies present leapt onto a stool waving a bottle around and began yelling:
"Drinks, everyone! Take a break from the games, and have a drink!"
"No, no!" Agmund shouted, as the small assembly rushed the makeshift bar, "We're almost out. Just take them, Imre!"
The gypsy shrugged, hopped down, and stalked right up to Faidn.
"What's going on?" Faidn started, feeling very uneasy.
With startling suddenness, Imre kicked his broken arm, and Faidn doubled over in pain. There was the crash of the bottle against the back of his head, and he remembered nothing more.
Jakob Cox was a business man. He always wore a suit, remained as clean as possible, tipped his hat to womankind, and cheated anyone he could. He was a short man with a shining white smile, and sported a pair of sizzling blue eyes. He took his time looking over the O'Neil grounds. The horses were certainly the most valuable possessions, but the barn was stocked with furs and a few long bows. They ought to fetch a good price. Not nearly five-thousand in gold, but Cox didn't really care. He took a moment to straighten his suit, and wipe perspiration from his face with a neat handkerchief, before knocking sharply on the door of the two-room cabin.
"Come on in!" Liza called from the kitchen, where Faidn usually slept in the winter. Cox did so.
"Have you found anything, Hollen? He's never been gone this long. It's been three days, and—" she looked up from her anxious stirring and saw the stranger in her house. With a gasp she dropped the clay bowl and it rolled—cracked, underneath the table.
"Hello, Eliza. You're not looking well. Has Hollen been treating you right?"
"Get out of this house, Cox. Get out of my home!" Liza's voice shook a little.
"It won't be yours for long. But I have a proposition for you. Just say it! Tell me, and I'll let you, and even Hollen pass. Three little words, Lizzie."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Jakob."
The man chuckled dryly.
"Don't you remember our courting days, dear?" he asked with a mocking smile.
"They were precisely one-sided, if I recall correctly," she returned.
"You never were an affectionate girl. You didn't seem to mirror my feelings for you."
"That's because I wasn't a malicious wish-I-was, so desperate to be a hero that I didn't mind becoming my own nemesis."
"She still has a tongue of fire," Jakob said aloud to himself with a smile, "But she'd better be willing to quench it with what I want to hear, or things could be painful." He reached into the fireplace and seized a smoldering stick, "You wouldn't want to be blistered by that searing mouth of yours, would you?"
Eliza snorted.
"Hardly the way to win my heart, Jakob."
As Jakob drew closer, her eyes widened at the thought that perhaps he wasn't bluffing. She used the pretext of feeling faint with fear to reach behind her for the counter.
"All right, Cox. You have me," she said, noting a blond head bobbing up the trail through the window.
Her searching hands grasped a pot off the counter and, leaping forward, bashed it over the man's head.
"No, no, and no! There are your three! Get out, you slimy excuse for a man!"
Cox dropped the twig and tried to dodge the furious blows, laughing. Finally, he grasped her wrist, and shoved her against the table.
"Your boy, should have been my son."
Hollen entered, running from the commotion they had caused. Cox released Liza, who was shaken, but still fiery. She ran to Hollen's side, to hold him back.
"What is he doing in here? Let go of me Liza, I'll teach him how to treat my wife!"
"Hollen, please!" Liza pleaded.
"Oh yes, Hollen!" mimicked Cox, brushing himself off, "If you strangle him, we'll never find out where our beloved son is!"
Eliza dropped her hold, but Hollen didn't move.
"What did you say?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low.
"You heard right. And since Eliza has lost her wits, I'll give you the choice, Hollen. Either Lizzie complies with my wishes, or the both of you go to jail, losing everything. Including your son."
The veins on Hollen's temple appeared ready to explode.
"He is no business of yours. Return my son."
"If I can't have Eliza, he shall perform just as well. He has half her blood."
"You know it doesn't work like that. Where is he?" Eliza stated, her green eyes vivid with fear, but her mouth firm.
"It might work if I told you I was going to slit his throat," remarked Jakob coyly.
"Your bluffs are too easy to call, Cox." Hollen claimed, his booming voice seemingly easy, but his knuckles white. Eliza paled under her freckles.
"I'm going to give you two days." Cox said, abruptly walking out the door. "You think it over. If you're compliant, then all's well. If not... I believe we've already discussed that. Goodbye!" He let the door slam behind him, but they could hear him call out:
"And don't try to run away. My fiari will be keeping an eye on you."
Eliza was trembling, and Hollen sank into a chair, his face looking haggard, and grey hairs beginning to show through his golden beard. For the first time in his life, he felt completely helpless.
Faidn awoke feeing rather helpless as well.
Final word count: 2168, although it was more when I first checked. Oh well.
Eeko: Yes! Thanks for reviewing! As you can see, I have updated. --hands berry smoothie-- drake jisken: Why thank you. I'm always up for compliments. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, too. --berry smoothie--
InChrist-Billios: --grins-- Well thanks. I learn from the best! --berry smoothie with umbrella--
Floober: Do you have any idea how happy it is to have someone say they were totally into what you were writing? It's very happy. --mango and papaya with umbrella. Because somebody has to have mango and papaya. Besides, tis my favorite--
FaylinnNorse: I'm glad you liked it. I had a lot of trouble writing that fight out, and I guess it worked! --mango and papaya, 'cause I bet you can handle it--
'Penname here': --berry float with...ah man, I can't think of anything else! You can have an umbrella, too-- I'll try to keep the horses going for you. Heard the plot from Billios? Tsk tsk tsk. Maybe I'll have to change everything around so you're surprised.
Okay, that's it for round three. Hope everyone enjoyed it. Is the very beginning too confusing? Any theories as to what Jakob Cox is up to? Or who the random red-headed kid is? Offer an opinion and get a...box. Of heart-shaped chocolate. On sale, since tis off season for chocolate hearts.