Chapter Two

Mo felt just as exhausted as his daughter was, but he didn't complain. The Prince let a little boy of about four or five ride on his bear. The whole group was tiring, if not already, very quickly. Mo could barely see the village. How hopeless the whole situation felt...

Could things get any worse? Mo wondered bitterly. The answer came to him when they started to cross a perilous bridge over a deep chasm in the ground.

Suddenly there were shouts, and at least three dozen figures emerged from the bushes of the opposite side of the bridge. They wore the silver of the Adderhead.

"We're under attack!" came Snapper's scream. The strolling players began to yell and scatter; the men all drew their weapons. Mo did the same.

"Kill every single man!" The Prince shouted to Mo. "Don't let anyone get away!" For if they did the Adder would know their exact location. Then it would all be over quite quick.

"I won't!" Mo yelled back as a soldier lunged forwards at him. Well, here goes nothing, he thought.

Killing made Mo feel very cold. Cold and merciless. He could have died many times in the past month. For what? To be killed by a simple soldier? No. He didn't want to die, not when he had come this far. And he didn't want anything to happen to his family, either.
So when Mo fought, he fought with all his strength and fury. Two soldiers came at him at once. Obviously they wanted silver. Lots and lots of silver. Too bad they weren't going back to their master alive. Mo easily ran his sword through the first man; the second tried to catch him on his unguarded side. Mo was too quick for that. Swiftly swinging his sword to one side, he beheaded the soldier. Grimly, he turned to face more soldiers. Greed was written all over their faces. And more than half of them were after him, the Bluejay.

Dimly Mo heard the Black Prince's bear, Snapper's yells, screams of women... But when he fought his entire mind and body was focused on one thing - kill. A man's sword flew out of the air, aiming for his head. Mo parried the blow and swept his own blade sideways. The soldier staggered back and screamed as the sword cut into his throat. He wouldn't be doing Mo any more harm in that state.

Then Mo spotted the Black Prince, cornered by several soldiers. The bear was kept busy by another four; it roared and snarled but was unable to get past the wall of swords and spears to his master. Mo knew that even the Prince couldn't fight off six men by himself. Yelling, Mo plunged into the soldiers, seeing his own sword flash brightly. With shouts of surprise they scattered, enabling the Prince to escape and attack. But now Mo was the one that needed help - he was surrounded by five - no, six - men that had bloodlust in their eyes.

"You can't get away this time, Bluejay," one snarled viciously.

"Perhaps I can," Mo replied coolly. He looked around at the men, calculating, watching the Prince and his bear, who were slowly advancing on them...

Then the man that had spoken charged without warning. Mo swerved to one side, but this time he wasn't fast enough. The man's blade cut into his shoulder, narrowly missing his throat. The wound hurt, but Mo was no stranger to pain. Ignoring the shoulder, Mo lunged and felt his sword pierce the soldier's heart. He quickly whirled around. Five more men died at his sword in the following five minutes.

"Bluejay! Are you all right?" The Prince said to Mo.

"Don't worry, it's just a scratch," Mo replied. He looked around; the road was now filled with bodies of soldiers wearing the Adder's silver. Mo made sure that no strolling player or robber was lying dead or wounded among the enemies.

"Have we gotten everyone?" The Black Prince asked.

"Yes, I think so."

No Motley Folk had died or gotten seriously wounded. Mo was all right except for the gash on his shoulder; the Prince had escaped with a cut on his leg. There was another robber who had a twisted ankle. Resa and Meggie had come Mo anxiously after the battle. That was when the Prince was bandaging his shoulder. They had no healers or moss-women among the players. Nettle had gone off north three days before. It was a relief that the Prince knew something about treating wounds. Mo saw that his shirt was beyond wearing - bloodstained and torn at the shoulder. As if reading his mind, the Prince spoke.

"I had Baptista bring you a fresh shirt." The Prince held out a coarse but clean garment.

"Thanks," was all Mo said.

"Mo!" Resa and Meggie were at his side in a flash. They were both worriedly looking at his shoulder. Mo saw Farid, too, standing by the Black Prince.

"I'm fine," Mo answered. "It's just a scratch. It's you two who I'm worried about."

Meggie and Resa hugged him so hard that it crushed him; Mo was just as relieved. Now all they needed to do was get safely to the village...

The strolling players and robbers set off, once again, for that accursed village. Mo was slowed by his sore shoulder; the Prince by his leg. The bear kept on sniffing at his master's wound. He just rubbed the animal's ears and told it that everything was all right.

Meggie and Farid, as well as Resa, rode on the back of a rickety old cart for a few hours. Farid and Resa had fallen asleep. Meggie was too anxious to do so. About today's battle, and what lay ahead for her and her family...There Meggie found Fenoglio, drowsing off among piles of straw and blankets.

"Fenoglio!" she whispered to the old man.

"Hmph?" Fenoglio grunted, and opened one eye. He seemed slightly more cheered than when Meggie saw him last. That was... about four days ago.

"It's me, Meggie!"

Fenoglio wearily sat up, rubbing his eyes. "So, did you get Orpheus here?"

"Yes," Meggie sighed, "but he's not writing, or talking."

"I knew reading him here was pointless," Fenoglio grumbled. "He sounded like a nutty young man, from what I've heard from you."

"He is." Meggie replied. And Farid's pretty upset about it.

Fenoglio surveyed Meggie with his old curiosity. "My, Meggie, it seems like you've grown! Or is it just me?"

Meggie smiled and shrugged. Her dress was dirty, crinkled, and starting to become very uncomfortable.

"How's your mother doing? And your father?" Fenoglio asked, his tone becoming suddenly more grave.

"They're fine," said Meggie, but inside she wanted to tell Fenoglio about Mo... how he and the Prince had almost single-handedly saved everyone from the Adder's forces... "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Fenoglio sighed and shrugged. "I feel so much older than I used to... And you know what, Meggie? I think I'm starting to miss words..."

Meggie looked at the old man. "Words? You want to write again?"

Fenoglio, however, just shook his head soberly. "Yes, I do, but all the same time... I think I've done enough wrong with those accursed letters of mine..."

Meggie had nothing to say to that. After a moment of silence she spoke. "But Orpheus won't write... and Dustfiger's still dead..."

That's when there was a shout from the front of the line - "We're here! We're at the village!"

"Well, Meggie," Fenoglio said, "I'll see you later."

"Yes," was all Meggie replied. She climbed off the cart. With holding Farid and Resa's hands, Meggie followed everyone else into the village.

The town was half-deserted. The few people there shrank back in fear as the robbers and strolling players marched into their village. Meggie wasn't sure whether she could walk for much longer. Even Farid was stumbling on his strong legs.

At last, the group reached a farm that looked more like the ruins of a brutal storm. The farmhouse was no more than a pile of rotting timbers and tiles. The barn was a ramshackle thing but it still looked like decent shelter. The robbers and strolling players made their way there. The barn looked big enough to fit everyone without much difficulty. Inside the barn Meggie saw Orpheus, lying among piles of straw and muttering to himself. Farid let got of Meggie and went over to the man. Meggie decided to stay with her mother, who was already setting off to find Mo.

Meggie found her parents leaning against the wall of the barn, Resa leaning on Mo's shoulder. They were already dozing off. Meggie realized just how tired she was; she went over to her parents and curled up beside them, and drifted off to sleep...