Abruptly, the young fairy spun away. He continued spinning, two, then three times, pivoting on one foot. The swords in his hands spun like the blades on a pinwheel as they sliced up the bodyguard’s torso, sending up a fine mist of blood. The bodyguard staggered back and collapsed.
It’d happened in an instant.
“…He’s fast,” Challe groaned.
The remaining bodyguards swelled with anger and squared off, ready to attack the young fairy.
This is dangerous. If they provoke him, Anne might get dragged into the fight.
Anne’s body stiffened as if she was holding in a scream. Challe leaped out in front of the young fairy, trying to block his view of the wagon.
“You idiots, stay back! Do you think you can win against him?!” he shouted over his shoulder at the bodyguards, startling them.
They seemed to have some experience—enough, Challe hoped, to understand the abilities of this young fairy far exceeded their own.
“I am Challe Fenn Challe.”
When he quietly gave his name, the fairy lowered his arms and relaxed his stance. He blinked several times.
“…Somehow, I know you. You’re just like Lafalle. A brother of mine?”
“That’s right. What’s your name?”
“Erril Fenn Erril.”
“Why did you come here? Do you want to be captured by fairy dealers?”
“I don’t want that. I just wasn’t sure what to do. Though Lafalle told me to run away.”
“Lafalle?” Challe frowned.
Erril ignored this and continued:
“I don’t even know where to run, so I’ve just been chasing after Lafalle. I’ve been waiting, thinking he might wake up someday, but…he hasn’t. At this point, I thought I might take him somewhere with me as he is.”
His tone was vague. He didn’t seem to have a clear understanding of the world around him or even of himself yet.
He must be confused.
Perhaps it was a side effect of being born late. Challe continued to reason with him quietly.
“Erril. We cannot hand Lafalle over to you. He has committed serious crimes. You should run away.”
Erril shook his head. “No. I’m taking Lafalle with me.”
Perhaps thinking his conversation with Challe would make Erril vulnerable, one of the bodyguards started to creep up behind him.
“Back off!”
Challe’s shout didn’t come in time to keep the guard in check, and the man slashed at Erril. Once again, Erril dodged the blow, and his two blades twirled. The bodyguard just barely avoided them, jumping back and falling unceremoniously onto his backside. Erril moved to mercilessly thrust his blades into the man.
Just then, the furious sound of hooves and of horses’ whinnying filled the churchyard.
Erril looked around him, startled, and the bodyguards did the same, their eyes wide.
Six riders on horseback appeared from all directions, surrounding the yard. They wore regular peasant clothing along with black masks. They were made up to look like bandits, but they were all solidly built, and there was nothing knavish about the proper way they rode or the skill with which they handled their horses. They were obviously soldiers disguised as robbers.
Not now!
Challe gritted his teeth.
The six soldiers wordlessly drew their swords in unison.
“Get them!” one ordered, and they all kicked their horses’ flanks at once. The six of them surged forward.
The bodyguards turned their swords from Erril toward the horses and charged.
If she didn’t get out of the melee, the soldiers and bodyguards might even strike Anne in their excitement.
Challe ran over to the wagon, picked up the paralyzed Anne by her waist, and hurled her into the cargo bed.
“Lie down!” he shouted.
Anne did as she was ordered and lay face down.
“You get in, too!” Challe yelled at Reginald. “I’m not picking you up, though!”
The fairy dealer looked nervous, but he still flashed Challe a grin. Then he leaped up into the driver’s seat. Challe climbed in next to him, snatched the reins from Reginald, and struck the horse with the whip. He clutched the reins as the horse neighed and reared up, and they took off.
Challe saw Erril slip away from the melee and nimbly leap up into the branches of a large oak tree. The young fairy was following the wagon with his eyes, but he merely watched them go. Perhaps he knew he couldn’t catch up with them.
One of the soldiers chased after Challe and the others on his horse.
Challe kept an eye on him as he guided the wagon. Reginald, riding beside him, pulled a knife out of his breast pocket and readied himself.
“One of ’em’s chasin’ us!” he shouted.
The soldier was driving his horse at full speed, and he came around the wagon bed up to the side of the driver’s bench where Reginald was sitting. The moment he thought he was even with them, he raised his sword. Reginald had readied his knife, but the soldier swept his sword to the side to flick it away. The knife flew through the air, and a spray of blood hit Challe’s hand.
Reginald groaned and clasped the side of his stomach.
Challe clicked his tongue and stood up, stepping over Reginald, who was doubled over groaning.
Still holding the reins with his left hand, he spread out his right palm and made his sword appear. The soldier swung down again, but Challe caught the man’s weapon with his own and flung it away. On the backswing, he cut deeply into the soldier, slicing him from shoulder to chest.
A line of blood ran down the soldier’s torso, and he lost his balance and fell from his horse.
Challe sat back down in the driver’s seat and adjusted his grip on the reins. Next to him, Reginald was still doubled over, clutching his side with both hands. Bright-red blood was pouring through the gaps between his fingers. He was seriously wounded.
A short time before the surprise attack on Reginald Stowe began…
Keith had just finished helping Anne, Challe, and Mithril leave the inn in secret, and together with Kat, he headed for the Silver Sugar Viscount’s room.
Hugh was with Salim in a spacious corner room on the second floor. He had removed his jacket and loosened his collar, and he was sitting comfortably in a chair, drinking some aromatic herbal tea. He looked so relaxed that, for a moment, they wondered if they had misunderstood something. They had both rushed there in a panic, after all.
“Did Anne leave?” Hugh asked when they came in.
“Yes. She went with Challe. I don’t think anyone noticed.”
As Keith answered the question, Kat walked wordlessly right past him. He struck a daunting pose in front of Hugh, crossing his arms and looking down at him.
“They’ll be found out immediately,” he said. “When the soldiers reach the church and see it’s deserted, they’ll realize somebody tipped those guys off so they could get away. And the only ones who know about the attack are you and Anne.”
“Rest assured, I’m arranging it so no harm will befall Anne. I forced her to act against her will, using my authority as the Silver Sugar Viscount.”
“And what about you? You’re defying your guardian. If things go badly, you could end up in prison.”