River

Gregor

Wolk is trying to keep me informed but I can barely hear him past the screaming panic in my mind. I can’t think, I can’t analyze, I can’t rue my failures, I can’t pay any attention to who is running with me. All I can do is panic and run.

When I round the corner of my street, barely noticing the burning in my lungs and legs, the worst possible scenario presents itself. Rosalind is there, in the clutches of the fiend, his knife in his hand, and she is covered in blood. Blood on her dress, blood on her hands, blood on her face, blood everywhere.

Wolk is saying something but I am paying no attention. Panic and pain and fear and regret leave no room for my Guardian.

Oh my god what have I done? I have killed her, I let myself get involved, let myself love her, and it has led to this. I find a way to run even faster the last few yards up the street.

As I approach, I see Mason releasing her, and he and Stu turn tail and start running in the opposite direction. I couldn’t care less, all I can think about is getting to her, holding her in my arms, seeing if there is anything I can do to help heal her, bring her back to life, stop the bleeding before it is all over.

Rather than collapsing from her wounds as I know she must, she unaccountably starts running towards me too, closing the distance in a few steps. She grabs my arms.

“I’m all right!” she shouts at me.

It makes no sense. I am crying, clutching her, knowing that I am too late.

“Gregor!” she shrieks. “I’m all right! I’m not hurt!”

What?

I lean back, and stare at her, tears running down my face, sobbing and panting. I see the blood everywhere, and am so confused that my mind is utterly blank. What is happening?

“It is Mason’s blood, darling, only Mason’s blood. Rosalind is unharmed, beloved. I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“What?” I gasp. “How can you be unhurt? You’re covered in blood!”

The strangest thing of all happens next. She smiles. How can she smile?

“I shot him,” she tells me. “I shot the beast. It’s his blood, Gregor. Not mine.”

I stand gaping like an idiot, too overwhelmed to know what to do next. Moses, suddenly standing next to us although I have no idea where he came from, says, “Yes, Gregor. It was her. She shot him. He’s wounded, not her.”

I am sobbing, uncontrollably, having lost all ability to make sense of the situation.

“You should go inside, Gregor, try to calm down.”

She looks at me, concerned, as though I am the person here who needs to be cared for. “Come on, Gregor, let’s go inside.”

I let her lead me, crying like a child, into our home.

Ben

As soon as we arrive Gregor goes straight to his wife, as Mason and Stu are fleeing up the street. They are already too far away to try to catch, and in a moment they have plunged into the trees at the end of the street and disappeared from view.

I can see that his wife is unharmed, although she is somehow covered in blood. Gregor seems hysterical, overcome with the fear that I know he was feeling as we ran. I don’t know how he knew, but he was obviously right. Mason has made his move.

I watch Gregor and his wife and servant go into their house, totally disregarding my presence here. I am left alone in the street, still panting from our run. I look around, wondering where Mason and Stu will end up. Will they be returning, try to finish what they started? I heard Gregor’s wife say that she shot Mason. So maybe not yet, maybe they will slink away somewhere until he can recover.

While I am looking around, I see what looks like a bit of cloth lying under the tree across the street. I’m sure it is the hiding place that David had described last night. I move over to see what it is, why something has been left there.

I have a sharp intake of breath when I realize that a young boy is lying unconscious under the tree. What has happened here? What does this child have to do with the mayhem that has taken place?

I kneel next to him, try to see if I can do anything. His face is darkening, bruising. He is unresponsive but he is breathing. I don’t know what to do.

I hear more running footsteps, and look up. My heart soars when I see Samuel running my way, followed by two other men. Samuel will know how to help this boy.

Henry

I’m about ready to expire by the time we arrive. I haven’t sprinted like this since my youth, and that was a long time ago. I might not be an old man, but Thomas and Samuel are certainly younger than me, and it is all I can do to keep up with them. My lungs are exploding by the time we round the corner to Gregor’s street and take in the scene before us.

When we get to his house I have to stop, gasping desperately for air, bending over and leaning my hands against my knees.

There’s a large stain in the dirt out in the street in front of Gregor’s house, and I realize with a sinking feeling that it looks like blood. A man is kneeling across the street, looking up at us as we approach. There is somebody lying on the ground next to him, under a tree.

Samuel goes over there, also gasping for breath, and kneels down next to the person who is lying there.

Thomas calls over to the other man, “Where is Mason?”

He looks up, and points north up the street. Thomas looks over there, as do I, and there is no sign of anyone.

“Where is Gregor?” is the next question Thomas asks him.

He responds, also breathing heavily, “He and his wife went into their house. She is all right.”

Thomas nods, and stands looking around, panting, obviously not sure what to do now.

I have caught my breath a little, and I ask, “Do you mean Mason the brigand? He was here?”

Thomas mops his brow with his sleeve and huffs. “Yeah. He was apparently plotting to attack Gregor’s family.”

“What? Why?”

“I guess he’s always been mad about that foiled robbery on the Trace.” He laughs briefly. “You know, you were there.”

“Wait. That was Mason? The time Samuel and I almost got robbed?”

“Apparently so.”

I look over at Samuel, amazed, to see if he has any idea about this. He is examining the person on the ground, who looks like just a boy, opening his eyes and peering into them. He doesn’t appear to be paying any attention to my conversation with Thomas.

And I see, suddenly, who it is kneeling right there next to him. It’s Mason’s accomplice, one of the other brigands who helped him try to rob us. I gasp.

“Get away from him!” I shout at the villain, storming over there to get between them.

Thomas stares at me in astonishment as I loom over the robber on the ground next to Samuel. The brigand stares up at me with a strange combination of shock and pain in his eyes, not the fear that I would expect from a criminal who has just been found out. I push him, and he falls backwards. “Get away, I tell you!”

“What are you doing, uncle?” Samuel gasps.

“It’s one of Mason’s gang members! Don’t you recognize him? He’s the one who tried to rob us on the Trace!”

Samuel’s mouth falls open and he stares over at the highwayman, who is strangely remaining perfectly still, leaning awkwardly back against his hands where he landed when I pushed him, rather than trying to escape. He is looking at Samuel with the oddest expression on his face, as though pleading.

“Thomas!” I call over to him. He’s in the militia, after all. “Catch him! He’s one of Mason’s gang!”

This stirs Thomas into action, and he moves forward, grabs the arm of the brigand and hauls him to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Samuel protests to Thomas. “What are they talking about?” He addresses this question directly to the villain, peering at him questioningly, disbelievingly.

The man is speechless, his face the very picture of grief, shaking his head hopelessly as Thomas begins pulling him back down the street towards town. He is not resisting in any way, but he appears to be utterly devastated.

Samuel looks over at me. “You can’t be right!” he says. “He wasn’t one of the robbers. Was he? How could he be?” I don’t know why he looks so grief-stricken.

“He is absolutely one of Mason’s gang. I could never forget his face. He is a criminal, Samuel.” I don’t understand why my nephew appears to be crushed rather than relieved that the brigand has been apprehended.

He stares after Thomas leading the man away. “But he never said….” he whispers. Then he bites his lip, shudders with some unexplained emotion, and returns his attention to the boy lying on the ground.