Chapter One
That Hurt!
C RACK! The thicket of dead saplings crunched and snapped as a band of Pictish bandits charged through it—their swords and axes held high, their screeching battle cries filling the air.
Leonard gripped the hilt of his drawn sword tightly, fidgeting in place as he waited for the charging blue-faced brigands, their bare torsos covered with intricate markings, to reach him. Luckily, the horses’ nervous whinnying had tipped him and Merlin off that something was amiss, and they’d been able to prepare for the threat.
“Stay calm,” said Merlin in a soothing tone. “Remain still until the closest warrior is but a few sword lengths before you . . . then engage him.”
“Right.”
A half-moment later, a Pict at least a head taller than Leonard brought down his sword with a motion clearly meant to cleave the young knight in two. Leonard parried the ferocious blow, deflecting the blade away from his head, then rolled to his right and thrust his own sword deep into the bandit’s side. The larger man, his eyes wide with surprise, teetered briefly before falling face first onto the grass. Leonard, his eyes still fixed on the slain Pict, got to his feet just as another bandit with rage-filled eyes set upon him, a sword in each hand.
“You killed my brother!” screamed Two Swords, attacking Leonard with a blind fury.
“Sorry . . .” grunted Leonard, waiting patiently before finding an opening and thrusting his sword into the attacker’s gut. “. . . but he was trying to kill me.” The second attacker clutched his belly in pain as he fell back into a muddy seep.
Leonard glanced to his left and saw Merlin, his back to a dead oak tree, holding three Picts at bay with his staff while each angled for an opening to stab or hack at the old wizard with their bladed weapons. Leonard pulled his sword from his second opponent’s gut, but before he took a step, a searing pain erupted in his left shoulder and knocked him off his feet. He reached up to find the source of the pain and was astonished to discover a fletched, wooden shaft sticking out of him. I’ve been stuck by an arrow! he thought.
An anguished cry reached his ears, and Leonard looked to see Merlin had buried his wizard staff deep into an attacker’s eye socket. The hapless Pict dropped like a stone.
“Get the archer!” yelled the wizard, gesturing wildly at a lone archer who stood roughly a hundred feet away. “Get him!”
Leonard groaned and rolled onto his knees. He picked up his sword and ran toward the bowman who quickly notched another arrow and calmly loosed it toward Leonard. When the arrow shot past Leonard’s ear, the bowman’s demeanor changed from calm to panicky, and he turned on his heels and ran. Good. At least one of these criminals has the sense to quit while he’s still alive. Leonard slowed before turning and running back to help Merlin.
A moment later, another arrow flew past Leonard, this time passing through the loose fabric of his shirtsleeve. He shot at me again! Leonard gritted his teeth, then turned and faced the bowman.
“Seriously?” he shouted.
The bowman smirked and pulled another arrow out of his quiver.
Looking around him, Leonard saw there was nothing to hide behind in the immediate area. If he couldn’t dodge this arrow, he was either going to get it in the front or the back. All right, I’ve had enough of this. Leonard reached into his boot and pulled out a small but heavy balanced knife. As the bowman notched an arrow and lifted the bow, Leonard drew back his arm and threw the knife as hard as he could. The blade tumbled end over end toward the bowman, who only noticed it at the very last moment before it buried itself in his throat. Leonard watched with grim satisfaction as the Pict sank to his knees and collapsed onto his side.
Once again Leonard ran toward Merlin, who now faced a single opponent, having somehow dispatched the other. The last Pict held an impossibly large double-edged battle axe which he seemed to be having a hard time keeping off the ground. As Leonard approached, the Pict, a boy not much older than himself, swung around, his eyes nearly bursting with fear and panic.
“They’re all dead,” said Leonard, wincing as he sheathed his sword.
“Dead?” squeaked the boy.
“Yes, all of them . . . except you.”
The young Pict lowered his axe. “Dead.”
“I gave your archer friend a chance to leave,” said Leonard, gingerly probing the bloody area around the arrow’s shaft. “He pretended to take it, then tried to stick an arrow in my back. I had to kill him.”
“That’s . . . that was Nechtan, my brother,” muttered the Pict boy. “He was stubborn . . . and stupid.”
Leonard and Merlin exchanged a glance.
“Are you stupid, boy?” asked Merlin. “Stupid enough to continue a robber’s life after you’ve just now witnessed the way it usually ends?”
Just then, a huge dragon landed heavily with a stag in its mouth in the small meadow behind Leonard.
“What happened here?” said Taddy, the dragon, dropping the stag at Leonard’s feet. “Looks like I missed some fun.”
“We were ambushed by bandits, and this young Pict was about to tell us if he was going to continue his life of crime,” said Merlin.
The dragon, the wizard, and the knight all turned expectantly toward the trembling Pict.
“Well, are you?” asked Leonard.
“No, milord. I am not.”
“Good. Drop the axe and return to your village.”
The young Pict did exactly as Leonard ordered and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him.
Leonard walked to a large stone a few steps away and sat on it. “Getting shot by an arrow HURTS! Merlin, would you please tend to my wound?”
“Of course. That was a nice throw with the knife,” said the old wizard as he knelt to examine the injury.
“Hubert and I have been practicing. I’m better at it than he is.”
“I caught you a delicious stag, Leonard,” the dragon beamed.
“I saw that Taddy. Thank you.”
Merlin frowned, then carefully gripped the arrow. “To remove it, I must first push the arrow all the way through.”
“All the way through? That sounds like it will hurt.”
“It will. A lot. You might faint which, by the way, is a perfectly acceptable thing to do. Ready?”
“No, but—”
Without warning, Merlin pushed the arrow through Leonard’s shoulder, causing him to tense up and faint before a scream got anywhere close to escaping his mouth.
Chapter Two
An Unexpected Visitor
B ack at Leonard’s home, also known as Castle Ronald, preparations for the wedding of Sir Leonard of the Green Valley and Maid Glennys of Camelot were in full swing. Glennys and Leonard’s best friend, Hubert, had just completed an inspection of the castle courtyard when a small figure no more than a foot tall jumped off a nearby battlement and landed squarely on his head. It was Piffle the brownie, Hubert’s loyal familiar, with a worried look on her face. “I is sorry to be interrupting, I is, my master and the Glennys, but something is needing your attentions, it is.”
“What’s wrong, Piffle?” asked Glennys, lifting the brownie off Hubert’s head and gently stroking her shock of red hair.