Read Online Small Magics by Erik Buchanan - Free Book Online Page A

they were shifting their feet. George finished stripping the twigs from the branch and, after examining it a moment, snapped off the thinnest two feet from it, leaving him a four foot club. He swung it experimentally.
    The biggest of the men stepped forward and threw his torch at Thomas. Thomas ducked to one side, and when he straightened the man was already running into the woods. His companions followed, dropping their torches on the ground before vanishing into the trees. Thomas grabbed up the torch that the first man had thrown, stomping out the small blazes it had left on the ground. George ran forward and grabbed up the other two.
    “City folk,” snorted George as he stomped out the small licks of flame on the ground. “No country man tosses a lit torch to the ground in the woods.”
    “Well, they can’t all be smart,” Thomas said. He sheathed his blades, realizing he was grinning like an idiot. Alcohol was said to make men both brave and foolish, and he’d been a prime example of that tonight.
    “It worked!” Eileen crowed. “They ran off! I can’t believe it!”
    “They weren’t ready for a fight,” Thomas felt breathless. “They just wanted to get at Timothy.”
    “You were sure of that, were you?” George asked.
    Thomas’s grin grew wider. “No.”
    “Fool of a scholar,” said George, punching him lightly in the shoulder.
    “Aye.” Thomas took a deep breath, releasing tension he hadn’t known was there as the air came out. “But it worked.”
    George walked up to the wagon, examined the axe marks on the door. He whistled. “Nearly got through, there.” He raised a big hand and knocked at the door. “Juggler? Juggler! It’s safe to come out now.”
    “Go away!” shouted Timothy.
    “It’s all right,” said Eileen, going to stand beside her brother. “They’re gone!”
    “Just go!”
    Thomas went to the wagon and knocked on the door. “Timothy? It’s Thomas, the scholar. Are you all right?”
    “If you’re still scared, we can take you into town,” George offered. “We’ll hook up your horse to the wagon, and move you into our back yard.”
    “I don’t want to be in your back yard!” Timothy yelled. “I want to be left alone!”
    “At least come to the door so we can see you’re all right,” said Thomas. “After that we’ll leave you alone.”
    There was a long silence, then the sound of slow movement inside the wagon. The door opened a crack. Timothy peered out at them then opened the door wide. Even in the dim light of the torches he looked pale and shaky. He leaned against the door frame, his breath ragged.
    “Are you all right?” asked Eileen.
    “Aye, I am.” He scanned the clearing before stepping out of the wagon. “I can’t say as I’m liking your village folk too much, though.”
    “They weren’t from our village,” said George. “I’d have recognized them.”
    “Maybe they were bandits,” suggested Eileen. “Though there’s not been a bandit around here for twenty years.”
    “Maybe they’re with the bishop,” said Thomas. “They said they were going to take you to ‘his Grace.’ ”
    “The bishop has no reason to want the likes of me.” Timothy’s words spilled out in a rush. He waved the idea away with a quick, jerky gesture. “No reason at all. They must have wanted me for something else.”
    Timothy moved slowly into the clearing, head swivelling back and forth, eyes darting in all directions. He was obviously shaken up and scared and Thomas didn’t press him with any questions. Thankfully, neither did Eileen or George. If Timothy didn’t want to speak, Thomas wasn’t going to try to make him. The little man reached the centre of the clearing and turned in a slow circle. Thomas watched a bit longer, then turned to his friends.
    “Well,” Thomas said. “We’ll go.”
    George and Eileen muttered assent and started for the woods.
    “Don’t!” Timothy’s voice was loud and frightened. He stopped and looked at his feet. A