“Move aside, witch!” The man said. “Move, or I’ll open his neck right here!”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort.” Ignatius said. “That boy is your reason for being here and is your only bartering chip you have to use to escape with your lives. Release the boy, throw down your weapons and your lives will be spared. Look behind you, our friends are here to close your route of escape. Give up before I lose my patience.”

  “This boy is to be brought before the king.” The man seethed as he kept the blade close to the boy’s neck.

  “The king is dead and this boy is next in line of succession to the throne. He is your king and you hold a blade to him?”

  “The affairs of the crown are none of your concern, witch!” The man said. Hearing this, Hoxley held her spear at the ready. Morell hefted the shield and mace.

  “I don’t like repeating myself, Sir.” Ignatius said. “Your attempt to steal him was well executed but you’re surrounded and outnumbered.”

  “Outnumbered by a witch, a goat girl and some children? I think not! Put down your weapons or the prince dies here.”

  “And if you kill him here, what then? What will you tell your master? If your new king is merciless enough to assassinate his own brother, then he’ll make short work of you once he learns you’ve failed him. This is your last chance. You should do as I say. I am seldom this patient.”

  “You’re the one who’s outnumbered, witch!” The man said, wrenching the prince’s head to the side to show how vulnerable his neck was. “Another element of thirty or more men are already on their way up the mountain.”

  “He’s telling the truth, brother.” said Siouxsie. “I overshot this peak and saw a column of soldiers climbing this peak. I saw the glint of swords and shields. There were at least thirty. At their current pace, they’ll be here before the sun rises.

  “You see there?” The man said with a widening evil grin. “Straight from the little freaks mouth!” Robert’s glowing eyes shrank to agitated slits beneath the shadow of the brim of his hat.

  “Do…not…talk…to my sister in such a manner.” He said through clenched teeth.

  “Shut your mouth as well or I’ll cut you and that little wench a new face hole, then burn the rest!”

  “I…said… do…not…”

  “Robert…” Ignatius said, glancing down at his smaller sibling as Robert dropped his broom into the snow. “Robert, listen to me, Robert, do not do anything rash. I can handle this.”

  “Haw Haw! See that! He’s already giving up! He’s the smart one! Said the man. “You should do the same! What about you, you little freak?” The lead soldier cursed Siouxsie again.

  Hoxley nervously began to take a few steps to the rear. Without realizing she was doing so, she instinctually grabbed Morell by the shoulder and pulled him back with her.

  “Hoxley? Hoxley what are you doing?” he asked. “What’s happening?”

  “Something terrible, I fear. Keep that shield at the ready.”

  “I’ll show you what burns.” Robert said in a growl, as he held his palms out for the men to see.

  “Robert! stop! wait! no!” yelled Ignatius.

  “Tinder and cinder!” Robert shouted.

  Hoxley, Morell, Prince Damron, and even Idris who’d just arrived upon the scene, watched in awe as Robert’s ability of fire conjuring manifested itself in the most horrific manner. At the utterance of the spell’s magic words, balls of churning white fire leapt from Roberts’ hands as fast as arrows to strike the leader and the man next to him square in the face. The contact they made was not like being brushed with the flame of a candle or that of a burning log. The arcane power he wielded exploded upon their heads the same way a large flat rock strikes the water after being dropped from a bridge twenty feet high from the surface. Fire not only struck them but engulfed their entire heads causing the one holding the sword to the prince to drop his weapon and flail.

  “My eyes!” the man yelled. “My eyes!” The other man struck by flame began flailing blindly as well. Seeing the prince suddenly free, the third man lunged to take custody of the boy but was cut short by Ignatius leaping between them and running the man through. He coughed a terrible “Urk!” as the blade split his lungs, an entire foot of steel emerging from his back to show itself dark with his blood in the night air. Ignatius twisted the blade causing the man to jerk and yelp before he put his gloved hand upon him to shove him free the end of his sword. Snow parted as he flopped into the frost and fought for air. The leader flailed and yelled until he ran into a rock and fell silent in the snow. The other twisted and jumped as he’d become entirely consumed with flame and wandered too close to the edge of the trail. He took one unfortunate step too far and wend tumbling out of sight to certain death below. Left all alone, the fourth man stood frozen in disbelief of what had transpired

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “What say you?” asked Ignatius, leveling his sword to point at the man’s head. “Will you fight as well?” A primal fear told hold of the soldier. A cry like that of a small frightened child leapt past his lips and he backed a few steps away. As fast as terror could carry him, he turned and starting running down the slope directly at Morell and Hoxley with his sword out. Morell saw this and with Hoxley at his back he stood straight and remembered his training.

  “Stay back!” He yelled, raising his mace. The soldier headed straight for them with no signs of slowing down. “I said stay back!” Morell hollered. With only a few paces left between them, Morell sidestepped, swinging his mace and striking the man in the side of the head. A wet “crack” like splintered wood filled the air and the soldier went limp mid-stride, collapsing and skidding to a halt in the snow. “Stay down!” Morell warned him. “Don’t get up or I’ll hit you again!”

  Siouxsie put the bristles back on her broom before jumping down from the rock she was on. She immediately started going through each of the skewered soldiers’ pockets. Copper coins could be heard clinking in her fists. Prince Damron remained stunned on his knees at what had taken place. The snow was freezing but the atmosphere left by the aftermath of the magic left him more chilled. Robert affixed the bristles to his own broom before jumping down to help the other boy to his feet. Prince Damron looked upon the glowing eyes beneath the shadow of the pointed hat and knew the fear that had driven the soldier to flee.

  “Take my hand,” Robert said to him. “It can’t be comfortable to kneel in the snow.” Afraid but assured he was right, the prince reluctantly accepted the offer and climbed to his feet. Idris rushed to his side and threw his arms around the boy. Robert stepped away and joined his sister in looting the dead.

  “My liege!” he cried. “I’m so glad you’re unhurt! What happened? How did they get you?”

  “I had to relive myself so I stepped away from my post. Those men…they jumped me and carried me off.”

  “You could have been killed!” The man said, kissing the top of his head. “I’m so thankful you’re alive!”

  “Stop being so fawning.” The prince said, pushing the man away. “Why didn’t you come sooner? You’re supposed to be protecting me and it was the witches that stopped those soldiers from taking me away.” Even in the low light, Idris looked wounded at his words.

  “My king, please don’t be this way. The others could all run faster than I.”

  “Save your excuses. I hunger. Find me something to eat.”

  “Our supplies are back where our packs are, your highness. We’ll have to go back and get them.”

  “Then go now and bring my pack. I’m starving.”

  “No one is leaving yet.” Interrupted Ignatius. “If what Siouxsie said is true then dozens more soldiers are coming our way.”

  “What can we do?” asked Idris. “Go back the way we came?”

  “It looks like we may not have any other choice. Let us consult with Hoxley.” The twins joined them and they walked over to where Hoxley was attempting to console Morell who was now crying in hysterics.

  “I didn’t mean to do it!” Morell bawled. “Hoxley please tell me he’s not dead!”

  “What’s happened here?” The tall witch asked the faun. “Is he injured?”

  “No, Ignatius.” She nodded her head. She continued to rub her hands across the boy’s shoulders to comfort him as he cried “The soldier came running at us and Morell did a very brave thing by striking him before he could attack us.”

  “Why is he so upset? Don’t feel bad, Morell, we’ll wake the soldier up and find out how much he knows.”

  “I fear the soldier will not be waking any time soon. See for yourself.” Ignatius took a few steps toward the man’s body and pushed it over with his winklepicker. To his shock, the man’s face and perhaps even his skull had been crushed to a mashed pulp from blow.