Pursued - Entire book

Chapter 11

"Today, the canals finally open," Norah said. As Klair helped his mother climb into the miner's wagon. Scov had loaned it to them for the day and suggested they enjoy the festivities until he could join them later. Two six-days had passed since their last casual visit to the mountain side. This evening his mother would be publicly betrothed to Scov, for he responded well to Klair being the son of a wizard, stating only, "That explains a lot."

Neighbors shouted out greetings as they all headed west of the village.

Klair had never seen his mother so happy. When Scov was around, hiss energetic step was contagious. Klair spent every other day apprenticing in the mines with his new mentor, and the rest working on the canals. In a half a year, he would be sixteen and corded as a miner.

The confrontation between the constable and Scov seemed to have happened ages ago.

Much of the community gathered at the base of terraces plus many from neighboring villages. All were interested to see the workings of the new watering system. People hollered and clapped as the water poured out of the opened holes of the wood pipes, held by scaffolding, to splatter into the groves of soil beneath. Others, holding rake, shovel or hoe, used during the construction bumped their tools together in a steady rhythm gradually rising to a crescendo.

A turn of the wheel which neighbored the water fall directed water into the pipes. Several wood slats inserted throughout the maze at strategic points. They were used to stop the water's descent so the canals could fill to their maximum, giving the workers time to check for leaks.

Runners raced beneath each juncture and after testing each pipe.

Then the wood slats were removed and the water flow further down the canal. The pace in­creased as the water reached further and further through the pipework.

The noise was deafening!

Klair grinned, his heart pounding with excitement. He and his mother shared the wagon front seat.

He had never felt so happy.

A sudden grip on his collar from behind yanked him off the wagon. His mother cried out as Klair landed on hard ground next to the front wheel.

Constable Trenny loomed over him. "Think you got it good, boy?"

"What are you doing, Constable?" his mother called out. Her voice was nearly drowned out amongst the din of the crowd.

Trenny ignored her. He leaned down and clutched the front of Klair's brown tunic. The stench of wine fouling Trenny's breath made Klair grimace. "You thought you were being smart, stealing Kella's pigs, eh? Well, I've caught and accuse you."

Klair tried to pull away but the Constable's grip was too tight. The back of Klair's heels dug narrow trenches in the dirt as the man dragged him across the ground. "What are you talking about?"

Trenny pushed Klair harder against the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Klair glared back at the Constable while some of those standing near turned their attention to the commotion. "Stole some bacon for your Mother, I reckon."

"I stole no pigs."

"We'll see." He leaned close. "One squeal leads to another um?" During the little private whipping of him and Tarrant a year ago, the constable told Klair he squealed like a piglet.

"When were the pigs taken?" his mother asked. But the Constable still ignored her.

Klair pressed his lips in sudden realization. He wants to hurt Mom and Scov isn't here to help. Fury suddenly consumed him and his panic flared. With magic behind him, Klair clenched his fist and swung. Not touching him, Trenny's body went flying. The Constable hit the ground so hard his body made an impression in the dirt, giving Klair a chance to stand. "If you accuse me, accuse me right and show proof."

Klair paused to see if he was going to react to his use of magic, but no bodily reactions haunted him.

Trenny's eyes blazed. "You need sense beat into you boy and I'm going to be the one to do it."

"Hey, Constable," someone said.

Trenny ignored all of them. The beat of wood was rising to a roar and hollers were directed to the drenching of ditches of the lower fields.

Trenny rose to his feet and Klair stepped back. A mother's sudden cry pierced the noise. All eyes turned to see a young child sitting precariously close to an open ditch on the lower end of the maze. The runners were too far away to rescue the child. Unbeknownst to his mother, he'd climbed up several terraces lining the hillside. He now walked through the next trench soon to fill with water.

"Jerin!" she cried.

Klair and Trenny froze and every­one else stared in sudden terror. Being the closest to the child, both Trenny and Klair simultaneously bounded up the mountain. Others followed but they were further away. The soil was loose and sifted easily beneath their feet.

"I'll get him!" Trenny hollered pumping his legs through the dirt; Klair's longer legs enabled him to rush ahead as he leapt into the ditch.

The water suddenly poured from above and the child squealed as he toppled into the ditch. The water flooded the small ravine in a torrent as the small child was shoved down the trench. His fists futilely grasped at the sides. The child gasped for air as cold water pooled above his small shoulders and head.

Klair grabbed for a hand, but the child went under. Klair slipped and fell into the trench and was immediately covered with water. He barely heard the mother scream, also scrambling up the embankment.

Trenny threw himself at the post supporting the canal near the child. His intent was obvious, dislodge the post and misdirect the water. He could then save the child.

Klair erupted out of the water, sputtering. His whole body encased in mud as he rose from the trench and running through the filled canal groping for the submerged child. He kept slipping.

The second hit of the Constable's shoulder against the post was so loud it echoed.

It didn't budge.

A child's life was at stake. What choice was there?

Klair mustered his energy and swung his hand toward the obstinate post. He centered his attention at the base where Trenny's had widened his stance in an effort to gain traction. The post snapped under the force of Klair's magic. Support suddenly gone, the hollowed log carrying the water dipped. The torrent gushed over the terrace away from the ditch.

People gasped as splinters of wood went flying. The section of canal broke entire­ly, spewing water across the ground.

Klair waded through the mud further along the hill, franti­cally searching for any sign of the child. Klair's scalp tingled and itched. He pressed on. Forming his hand into a scoop in the air before him, he directed his mind to the lower wall of the trench. His thoughts became reality and mud was shoveled away.

The frantic scream of the child rose from the canal some ten steps away as the water and gunk filtered away as he hung suspended as if held by an invisible hand. He was sputtering and kicking up a storm. When Klair reached him, the child gripped his neck so tightly it was hard to breath. Klair held the wailing youngster close as others advanced.

Save for the child, he was surrounded by stunned silence.

"Kapawn Spawn," one of them murmured.

The accusation echoed throughout the crowd. "Seedling."

"Wizard."

Klair leaned over and threw up twice still holding the child. He leaned against one of the still upright posts, body trembling from using his magic. At least by dispelling his sickness quickly, he wouldn't pass out. He lowered his head, sagging into the mud as he closed his eyes. He blinked furiously to prevent the hint of tears from flowing hotly against his muddied lids.