Free The Twins by Gary Alan Wassner Page A

from the cut, and he was clearly not conscious. He lay in a heap with what was certain to be a broken leg by the sight of it.
    “I make my apologies for my countrymen. They are scared these days and they forget themselves. My name is Trevor Cortland. I am the blacksmith in the town, as was my father before me and his father before him,” and he extended his broad, calloused hand forthrightly to Cairn.
    The scholar reached out his own arm in response, as the big man was attempting to brush off the soil from Cairn’s robes. Before they made contact, a tremendous gust of wind came out of nowhere and sent leaves and dirt flying in all directions. Trevor’s eyes opened wide in fear as he reached for his staff with a look of sheer panic on his face. Into the clearing, from what direction he could not tell, a giant, catlike creature appeared with his jaw opened further than seemed possible, bearing rows of sharp, white teeth.
    “I’m fine, Calyx. Have no fear. The man here has come to my aid. He is not here to harm me,” Cairn said, and stepped quickly between the Moulant and the blacksmith.
    Trevor, astonished, gaped childlike at Calyx.
    “I was stupid, my friend. I went to sleep too soon and I did not think I really needed to be so careful. I was wrong. But, Trevor Cortland here has saved me from a surely unpleasant fate at the hands of some roughnecks. I thank you from the depths of my heart, Master Cortland. My name is Cairn, Cairn of Thermaye,” he said as he clasped Trevor’s trembling hand, completing the greeting.
    He bowed gracefully to the shaken and still frightened smith who obviously was afraid to move even an inch.
    “You are perfectly safe, my friend. Calyx will not harm you now.”
    Calyx moved gracefully over to the side of his companion and placed one giant paw on top of the fallen attacker. He rolled him onto his back and put his face close up to Martos as the wounded man regained consciousness. Upon opening his eyes and seeing only the huge face of Calyx, Marto shrieked and tried to push himself backwards despite the broken leg, passing out once again.
    Trevor had regained his composure by this time, and he waited as Marto opened his eyes once more and frantically looked around him. He caught the eye of Cairn who was smiling subtly with his arms folded across his chest.
    “I do not think you should try to get up, even if you could. My friend here is not often generous toward those who wish me harm,” Cairn spoke softly. “Perhaps you should help this fellow back to town, Trevor. Or, maybe not. Why don’t we leave him here with Calyx while you and I go to town and fetch some help?”
    Marto shook his head so quickly and violently, indicating that he did not think that would be such a good idea, that Cairn and Trevor laughed.
    “I do nay think he will be so likely to bother you again, sir Cairn. If’n his leg did nay stop him, by the look on his mug, he be certain that your friend there would.”
    “I tend to agree with you, Goodman Trevor,” Cairn replied with a grin.
    “My cottage is nay far from here. Would you care to come back and have a warm cup of cider and get some good rest?” he asked.
    “It would be my pleasure, Trevor. But what of this one over here?” he asked, pointing to Marto.
    “Let ‘im sit tight for a bit. His ‘friend’ will come back sooner or later, as least to see if’n he is alive or nay,” Trevor replied, winking at Cairn. “Come, you must be weary from the greeting our townspeople have given you.”
    Trevor led the way through the brambles to a narrow path beyond, and Cairn and Calyx gratefully followed him, confident that this man’s intentions were noble.

Chapter Seven

    Baladar gazed out of the tower windows, scanning the horizon with both his eyes and his mind. His body sizzled with a quiet anticipation, and yet he could not calm the ever-present anxiety that wrestled with his soul. The pieces were falling into place, or so it seemed. The boy, Davmiran,