the shadows of the forest when it would have been easier and quicker traveling out on the plain.
He found his gaze focused on the mounted Evinnysan.
“Boy, do not look at me so,” Evinnysan growled, his green eyes flashing hatred. “Or I’ll shove this here sword up your cave.”
The men around him laughed, mean glee in their eyes.
Richard moaned then, his eyelids fluttering.
“Give him aid!” Bran pleaded.
“Why ever would I want to do something that helpful?” John Lewis Hugo replied. “You should be thankful the High King has not thrown you in with the knight’s lot.”
Lord Gwawl frowned. “Was the knight meant to not be—?”
“Harmed?” John Lewis Hugo finished. “No, no he wasn’t. But not everything goes to plan. I will explain this to the king. None of you will be culpable.” He stared at each man around him. “But the boy must go to Caer Llion—unharmed.”
Bran turned from the mocking stare of Lord Gwawl.
“My Lord,” Gwawl continued. “The wolf things you brought…”
“Ahh yes, the demon wolves,” John Lewis Hugo intoned. “They are terrifying, a small part of a much larger force. If you are worried about your men fearing or spreading rumors, let them. It might make them sharper than they were yesterday.”
“I think—”
“That is your problem right there, Gwawl,” John Lewis Hugo said angrily. “You think too much.”
“You sent my men to die in that cursed forest,” Gwawl countered, before spitting on the ground. “While the Red Crosses of Caer Llion watched from safety.”
“Be careful of whom you offend, Lord.”
Lord Gwawl fell quiet but crimson anger spread over his face.
“The wolves will speed your king’s vision,” John Lewis Hugo added. “They can infiltrate into the harsh conditions in the Carn Cavall and will travel far from this world. That is all you need know. I suppose what you are really worried about is, yes, they will keep you and your fellow lords in their place.”
“Unnatural beasts,” Evinnysan spat.
“You don’t have to like them, Evinnysan,” John Lewis Hugo replied with rancor. “You just have to do what you are told.”
A howl erupted behind them, silencing the lords like a death stroke. As quickly as it had come it was silenced. John Lewis Hugo gave his companions a dark look and, kicking his horse into action, rode back the way they had come. The warriors around Bran did not keep their misgivings silent.
“That one was killed fast. Perhaps they are not so difficult to kill.”
“Unnatural to bring such creatures into the world.”
“Who does the king think he is, creating those beasts?”
“They are fierce. Should send them into Snowdon against the Morrigan.”
“What else are they breeding beneath Caer Llion?”
Each opinion varied, the warriors chattered on as they entered a darker patch of Dryvyd Wood; the dappled sunshine vanished. The mystery of Annwn, with its foreign setting, frightening creatures, and hardened men, heightened Bran’s anxiety. He had no weapon, no ability to protect himself. He had not understood the danger of Annwn. He had hoped for answers, even adventure. He had been an ass. The growing realization he could die in a foreign world at any moment now stung like shards of steel.
Bran might not see Seattle again.
Those he knew in the Bricks would never know his fate.
The pain at his groin intensifying suddenly, he pushed the thoughts away angrily. Thinking that way about death did him no good. He sighed and shifted his weight, trying to alleviate some of the bound pain. He would confront what came with the same hard reality he had faced on the streets and relent to nothing.
That’s when, from a brambly bush nearby, Bran saw emerald eyes staring at him.
He blinked, the ache in his body replaced by surprise. The eyes followed him from an oval face coated in colors of the forest, inquisitive and alert as they watched the captive and those around him. The rest of her was hidden from view, but curly red hair framed a young face. On a branch next to her a fairy sat, its body composed of sticks and moss fused together, a natural camouflage.
Bran was so astonished by the two he almost cried out.
The woman shook her head—and just as quickly vanished.
A screech in the trees above caught his attention. Arrow Jack jabbered down at Bran, the feathers of the merlin ruffled. Several warriors shot annoyed cursory glances upward and made warding signs of evil. Richard had mentioned the bird would be their guide. That had not worked out well. Arrow Jack continued his screaming though as if warning