Merlin's Blade Read Free Page A

set the goat down and swaggered over to Merlin. “Gonna make me?”
    â€œMaybe,” Merlin said, offering up a silent prayer. With his staff he tried to push Rondroc away, but the dark form disappeared. Someone kicked Merlin in the back, and he fell, banging his arm on the side of the wheelbarrow.
    Rondroc laughed.
    In the distance, a harp strummed faintly.
    Merlin scrambled up and turned to face his mocker.
    â€œLook out for Dysla —” Garth’s voice rang out.
    Too late. Rondroc shoved Merlin in the chest, and he fell back over Dyslan, who was crouching behind him.
    A sharp pain shot through Merlin’s skull as he bashed his head on a rock. Laughter swirled around him like thick fog, and for a moment Merlin lay still as his mind groped for its bearings.
    â€œStop it,” Garth said. “Leave him alone!”
    The voices intensified and faded as Merlin sat up. Time slowed. Someone yelled in pain at his left. Using the barrow, Merlin pulled himself up to a standing position and winced at the throbbing in his head. “Garth?”
    The horses whinnied, and Merlin didn’t hear the harp anymore.
    â€œWant me to knock you down again? Or maybe a little poke this time, huh?” The sound of Rondroc’s knife leaving its sheath roused Merlin from his stupor.
    â€œI’m warning you, Rondroc.” His hand shook as it strayed to his own dirk, a foot-long, tapered blade. But he realized how foolish thatwould be. Taking up his staff again, he tried to remember how tall Rondroc was.
    â€œThis time you’ll stay down. Dirty villager. Not paying my tax.”
    Loud grunts and bangs sounded from near Tregeagle’s wagon.
    â€œRonno, help! I’m stuck,” came Dyslan’s voice from the left.
    Rondroc took a step toward the wagon and shouted in a higher pitch, “You … little monk! Stop!”
    Merlin’s heart raced as his chance came. Leaping toward the voice, he held his staff back and spun around.
    The staff whirled forward in a whistling arc.
Keep your head up, Rondroc
.
    Crack!
Natalenya’s brother slumped to the ground.
    For a moment Merlin stood still as a wave of emotions — from exhilaration to panic — flooded him. Panic won out.
What have I done?
    He heard thumping sounds, the neighing of horses, the jangling of tack, and hoofs clopping toward him.
    â€œYou can’t
do
that!” Dyslan shouted.
    â€œMerlin, over here,” Garth called. “Get in!”
    Merlin rubbed his head. “What?”
    â€œIn! I’ve got the wagon.” A hand grabbed his arm from above.
    â€œThe wagon?”
    Garth pulled on his arm. “Hurry!”

CHAPTER 2

A PATH FOR WOLVES
    M erlin found a step for his foot, climbed up, and fell into the back box of the wagon as it clipped down the hill. “What are you doing?”
    Behind him, the chicken squawked.
    â€œBorrowin’ the wagon.”
    Merlin pulled himself into the front seat, bumping the bagpipe that rested between him and Garth. “You’ve got to stop … It’s not ours!”
    â€œDon’t call me a thief,” Garth said, snapping the reins. “It was that girl … She told me I could take it.”
    Merlin sat up. “Really? You mean Natalenya?”
    â€œNatalenya, that’s her … The girl who sang.”
    â€œShe gave permission?”
    Garth turned and spoke right into Merlin’s ear. “She said to take it. Said we can have it all afternoon. An’ how’s yer head? That was a chunk o’ granite you hit.”
    â€œHurts.” Merlin shut his eyes and gingerly felt the back of his head. Bloody dirt and some small pebbles were stuck in his hair.
    â€œShe said it was to help us get away from her brothers.”
    â€œHuh.” Merlin smiled.
    â€œI threw almost everything in. Even the chicken. An’ that rope’s a beauty — woven just right! I tied it around the goat before I popped ‘im