The Conduit The Gryphon Series - By Stacey Rourke Page 0,29
I hope you’re packing an Uzi under those wings if you think we stand a chance against an entire army.”
The smile she graced him with caused my big brother to omit an audible sigh. “When the time comes you will have all you need to fight and to win.”
I was cold, tired, confused, scared, overwhelmed, and I kind of had to pee. My patience was wearing thin. I crammed my hands into my pockets and tried to keep the snarkiness out of my voice as I asked, “How about a little less cryptic and a little more information?”
Those golden eyes locked on me. “You are absolutely right. Too much time has been wasted. It is time for each of you to embrace your destiny.”
CHAPTER 13
“To know what is to come, you must first know what has been.”
Alaina pulled a small black velvet drawstring sack out from within the folds of her feathered gown. Gabe, Kendall and I were seated around the campfire while she stood. “That story takes us to the green sprawling hills of Ireland in the 17th century—the bloodiest time in the history of Ireland. Civil wars tore the country apart and ended lives. An evil ex-soldier by the name of Barnabus chose to take advantage of the chaotic carnage by assembling his own army to challenge the governing power, the English Commonwealth. He was able to recruit roughly two dozen men, yet that was nowhere near enough to accomplish their goal.”
She poured what looked like silver sand onto her palm, and sprinkled it into the campfire in small circular motions. The flames rose up in response, licking high up into the night sky. “They targeted small, insignificant villages; stormed tiny settlements and demanded that the males of all ages join their army. When any man refused, he was forced to watch as his family was brutally killed. If men dared band together in refusal, their entire village was torched and the remaining residents slaughtered. Whispers of these massacres reached my own village.” At the mention of her village, the silhouette of it appeared within the red and orange flames. Gabe, Kendall and I leaned in and stared in astonishment at the small, plank-board sided homes that could clearly be seen against the backdrop of the fire. “At word of the potential threat, our men made makeshift stands on the four corners of our town and kept watch at all hours. What happened next you need to see for yourself.”
A loud trump blast came from the scene within the flames. Men, women and children, all clad in sleepwear, scrambled out of the tiny homes.
“Cool! It’s like a little movie.” Kendall chirped.
I elbowed her in the ribs. “Shhh. Is that you?” I pointed to an auburn haired girl of about fourteen that had stepped out from the most modest of the homes.
“It is.” Alaina said sadly. The Alaina from the fire movie held a beautiful, cherub—faced boy of no more than six in her arms. A raven-haired woman stepped up behind her and hurried them both out of the house. “That is my brother and my mother.”
Before I could ask what happened to them, a fully dressed man with a sheathed sword slung beneath his big ole Santa belly began to hush the townsfolk. He had a mass of curly auburn hair that blended right into his bushy beard.
When the people quieted, he spoke in a thick Irish brogue. “There are roughly two hundred soldiers on horseback headed straight for us. They’re armed with broad swords, axes, and arrows. The few weapons we have will be no match against their armor.”
An old, grey-haired woman with a long braid down her back and a face that could scare children squeezed her way through the crowd. “What do we do? Can we run?”
“We’ll ne’er get out of the gorge in time.” The man beside her answered, shaking his head. “They have us cornered.”
“Adara! Cadence!” The curly-haired man boomed. “Hitch four horses up to the wagon in my barn. Now! Move!”
Two young women in long, flowing nightgowns darted off. The man then walked over to young Alaina, squeezed her shoulder and stroked the cheek of her brother.
Alaina answered the unspoken question. “My father.”
His strong voice quaked as he laid out his plan. “We will load the children into the wagon and hold off the army so they can escape.”
With somber resolve the villagers hitched up the horses and began their tearful goodbyes. Heartbroken parents loaded their sobbing and confused children into the