CINAED
One year later…….411 A.D.
I jerked awake, sitting up and moving quickly to the knife I kept under his pillow of hay. “THERE HE IS, GRAB EM’!” The voice was so loud, I almost dropped the knife. He knew that voice. What criminal wouldnt? It was the head of the Saxon guard, Jack Smith.
Cinaed leaped to his feet, Sun was poking through the stable roof, and the sound of many footsteps was only a couple steps away. How did I sleep like that? In no time he was running out the back door of the stable, only to find himself staring into the face of a man he had pickpocketed only a few days earlier.
“Here!” he yelled. He leveled his woodcutting axe at Cinaed. “Now you pay Cinaed.” The man intended to hit me on the head with the shaft of his axe, but I was already back in the stable.
“No, you paid for my turkey last night!” I yelled. A scream of rage from outside was punctuated by an axe head slicing through the wood next to my ear. Dont laugh at men with axes, I made a mental note. I turned and ran out the front of the stable, right into a saxon foot soldier. Foot soldiers? Thats new. He threw a punch right at my face. Everything moved as if underwater. If I was hit now, it was all over. I would be beheaded for several accounts of petty theft, one assault and, well… witchcraft.
I yelled and shoved my hands out in front of me. A wall of wind gushed past me, sending my long brown hair into a frenzy, and the soldier through the wall of the stable. “WITCHCRAFT!” yelled a voice. Soon the cry was spreading through the village like a fire. “Cinaed is a wizard! A wizard in our own village!”
Three more guards barreled through the stable doors. I had only moments to think. I could run, these guards are weighed down in chainmail. Wait even better, I could ride. I turned around and saddled a horse, drawing my sword for good measure. The stallion reared as I raised my sword into the sky, letting loose a scream to turn back the hounds of hell.
A powerful vortex ripped through the stable, picking it up, and setting it back down again, in a heap of wooden boards and straw. The guards screamed as they were thrown through the air, landing in a pile of straw from the stable. Their spears clattered to the ground next to them.
I felt a strong sense of pride, and then I felt my eyelids beginning to grow heavy. No! Not now! I have to get away, I can't die because of this. I dug my heels into the side of my new steed, which I had decided to name Notus. He whinnied loudly, but it did not sound like an angry noise. It sounded more cheerful. I charged out of the city, people screaming in rage and throwing rocks. One of them hit home, leaving a nasty cut above my eye. I bent low, my cloak flowing behind me, my scimitar strapped to my back. We were riding so fast, the houses started to blend together. Jack Smith screamed in rage.
Archers lined up in front of me, drawing back their bows. I urged the horse to the right, between two houses. We raced past and past the blacksmith, who attempted to throw a hot piece of metal at me, probably as revenge for the raw silver that I had stole, and sold to a peddler. The metal missed, and I heard a shriek behind me.
The guards were on horses now, and the metal had hit one of them. three of the others fanned out behind me, and they all pulled crossbows from behind their backs, taking aim, and firing, their horses riding steadily to keep their riders on board.
Think, think! What do I do? I pulled some flint and steel from my pocket, turned in the saddle, and began shaving sparks off into the long grass as we rode, but I was unsuccessful. A Crossbow bolt whizzed past my head, and thudded into a house as I rode past.
I looked over my shoulder towards the gate, which the horse somehow knew to head for. It was odd, I wasn't even guiding the horse anymore. It seemed to know exactly where to go.
As I rode towards escape, I noticed the man who was watching the gates. It was Peter Johnson, and suddenly an idea formed in my head. The soldiers shot another bolt, and this one grazed my thigh. Yellow spots dance before my eyes.
“OI PETER!” I yelled. The husky man looked up, looked at me, to the guards in hot pursuit, and rushed over to a vat of boiling oil, shoving it over so oil began to pour out of the pot like a waterfall. The horse began resisting, pulling away from the oil, but I urged it on.
The guards behind me stopped their horses, wondering just how stupid I was. I proved them to be very, very, very stupid. I summoned one last gust of wind, and the oil was washed back like a curtain. Horse and rider galloped through the hole, and I dropped a final spark behind us, and the oil erupted into flames. I saw Jack through the flames. He pointed at me, mouthing, next time.
I began riding towards the mountains, nodding off on my horse. My powers tapped me. I had been able to use them before I could talk, but I had not figured out how to use them properly, in thirteen years.
I began falling asleep but was awoked by the oddest thing I had ever heard.
The voice of an older boy echoed in my head, Notus, hmm, I think I like that name.
I almost fell off my new horse right then and there, I thought I had just heard that horse speak in my mind.I almost fell off my horse right there, but that could cripple me until the guards found me in the road. But I remembered that I did not want to die. I like it too, I thought, hoping I wasnt mad. But, Im gonna fall asleep now so, keep riding, and um, it would be nice if I would still be here when I wake up.
As I nodded off, the voice was back. You got it, sweet dreams.
