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The Mountains Rise

Michael G. Manning




  The Mountains Rise

  By

  Michael G. Manning

  © 2014 by Michael G. Manning

  Editing by Grace Bryan Butler

  Cover Artwork by Amalia Chitulescu

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  For more information about the series check out the author’s Facebook page:

  https://www.facebook.com/MagebornAuthor

  You can also find interesting discussions and information at the Mageborn forums or the Mageborn Wiki:

  http://www.illenielsdoom.com/

  http://magebornwiki.com/index.php/Main_Page

  For more information about the artist that produced the cover artwork check out her page:

  https://www.facebook.com/Amalia.Chitulescu.Digital.Art

  Foreword

  I waited until the book was finished before writing this foreword. Now I find it difficult to encapsulate the book in a short summary, but I felt the need to forewarn you, The Reader. Many of you have probably read my previous series, Mageborn, which is set two millennia after the events in this book, so you may have some misconceptions about what you’ll find here.

  Unlike Mageborn, this story encounters more adult issues. The main character does not always do the ‘right’ thing, and in fact, cannot be called a hero. Events conspire to darken his future and twist his morality, but his choices are his own. Most importantly, the story delves into some topics of a sensitive nature, particularly sexual abuse and violence, though there is nothing graphic in the telling.

  I didn’t set out to write a book about those things, but they came up as part of the course of this tale, and I couldn’t avoid them. Before allowing some of the situations in this book, before writing them, I sought advice from a number of friends; people who have confided in me over the years. Several of them have been through experiences that correlate to a surprising degree with some of the darker elements within this tale.

  Fortunately, they had much better outcomes, and in fact, I doubt any of them would condone the choices that the main character in this story makes. My main purpose in writing this foreword is to make sure that my audience understands that I don’t take the subject matter lightly.

  Chapter 1

  Daniel chewed a long stem he had pulled from the ground beside him. The sun warmed his face even as a cold wind chilled his hands. Spring had arrived, but winter hadn’t given up completely yet, and the two of them had at least another month of fighting before Mother Nature would declare a winner; in the meantime Daniel enjoyed the dichotomy of warm and cold.

  He lay on a gently sloping hillside, watching his father’s sheep grazing. Since he had turned twelve last year, he had been deemed old enough to contribute to the family’s livelihood by taking on chores more suited to a man. He had been a little nervous the first time his father had sent him out to watch the flock alone, but his pride at being given such an important task had kept him from admitting to his fear.

  That was a year gone now, and tending the flock seemed a much less daunting task now. At thirteen he was just beginning to grow into a larger frame, and he felt much more mature. In fact, on days like today it was practically a vacation.

  A flash of blue caught his eye, and he spotted Catherine Sayer heading down toward the riverbank. Her dress was a light green, but the blue came from a bright kerchief her father had bought her a few years back, before he had disappeared. Kate wore it regularly now, and Daniel thought it looked exceptionally nice tying back her vivid red hair.

  He waved at her from his place on the hillside, but of course she didn’t see him. He was over a half a mile distant from where she walked, hauling two large wooden buckets. More than likely her mother had sent her to fill them before doing the wash. The river ran directly behind their house, less than a couple hundred yards from their back door. Her parents had never had a well dug, but being this far back in the mountains the river water was safe enough to drink.

  Turning his eye back to the sheep, Daniel considered his options. This time of day things were quiet, and it was unlikely that anything would spook them, plus he had Blue with him. Stretching out his hand, he rubbed the wiry sheep dog’s head before giving him a more serious bit of instruction, “Keep the flock close, Blue. Don’t let them wander far. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  Blue’s eyes stared straight into his own for a long minute before the tricolored dog looked away. It almost seemed as if he nodded, indicating his perfect comprehension of the boy’s words. He very well might have, for the herding dog was uncommonly smart and had been doing the job for more years than Daniel had. Blue was a large part of the reason Daniel’s father had felt comfortable sending him out alone with the flock at such an early age.

  Daniel began picking his way down the hillside. While much of it was smooth, there were large rocks scattered about and the slope was steep enough to make a fall potentially dangerous. He sped up as he got into the small trees closer to the bottom, if he hurried he could talk to Kate and help her with the water buckets. He gave no thought to why he wanted to help. The two of them had been friends for most of their lives and tending the flock wasn’t exactly an exciting job. Seeing Kate would probably be the most interesting moment of a long day.

  He was close to the bottom when he heard a voice. He had been expecting hers, but this was a male voice, young by the sound of it, but already over the cusp of boyhood and its higher pitches. Who is that? he wondered. Another voice answered it, and this one he recognized, Billy Hedger, another of his neighbors.

  Billy was about his own age, but the two of them didn’t get along well. The other boy tended to hang out with Ronnie Banks and some of the other ‘townies’ as they referred to the people who lived in the nearby community of Colne.

  Daniel froze in place, listening. If Billy was with a group of friends, it would probably be a bad idea to make his presence known. They would tease him unmercifully. Unlike them, most of the farm children had to work by Daniel’s age, and for some reason the townies found that amusing.

  “Hey it’s pumpkin-head Kate!” came the deeper voice again. This time Daniel recognized it. It was Ronnie Banks, although he sounded much older than the last time Daniel had met him.

  “Hello,” responded Kate, but her answer was unenthusiastic.

  “Ain’t you happy to see old friends?” said a third voice. That would be Aston Hayes, unless Daniel missed his guess.

  Kate didn’t reply, but Daniel could hear the sound of her buckets in the water. She was probably trying to fill them, so she could leave as quickly as possible.

  “She’s probably embarrassed ‘cause it looks like a dog dropped a pile of bloody shit on her head,” suggested Billy, referring to Kate’s obvious fiery hair.

  Daniel’s heart was beating faster now. He could hear the ugly tone in the townies’ voices. They were looking for someone to torment, and Kate was an easy target. He had been on the receiving end of their taunts before and knew well how cruel they could be. Last year they had held him down while Ronnie pissed on him, and the time before that they had forced him to eat dirt.

  Kate hadn’t replied to Billy’s insult, but the sound of her buckets dropping alerted Daniel that they had approached her. Easing further down, Daniel made his way to the shallow ford so that he could cross over to her side of the river. Stepping out of the underbrush exposed him, but the three townies were too engrossed in their sport to notice him moving on the bank.

  “Let go of me!” yelled Kate angrily, and then Daniel heard a thump. Looking over he saw she had fallen after Aston had kicked her legs out from under her. Billy stood over her sneering down.

  Daniel was fully in the grip of terror now, experiencing th
e sort of world wrenching fear that few besides children fully experience. Ronnie Banks was at least two years older and much taller and heavier than Daniel. Billy and Aston were his own size, but three on one was bad odds, even if it weren’t for Ronnie’s larger frame.

  He knew that the minute they noticed him, he’d be in trouble. At best he’d come home with bruises, at worst—he had no idea what that would be, but he doubted he wanted to find out. He crossed the river without them spotting him. Every instinct told him to run and hide, and for a moment he started to turn away.

  Then he heard Kate again, “Leave me alone, Billy!” Looking up, he saw her kick upward with one leg, trying to catch her tormentor in his more tender regions.

  Billy was ready for it though, and bending one leg inward, he caught her kick on his thigh instead of what she had been aiming for. Clearing his throat, he brought up a disgusting lump of phlegm and spat on her. “Now you look even more like someone’s loose bowels,” he leered.

  Without thinking, Daniel spoke, “Leave her alone.” It was the sort of thing that he should have shouted, like a hero in some of his daytime fantasies. Instead the words came out quietly, barely loud enough to be heard, his boyish voice pitching even higher than normal.

  It was enough to get their attention, though. Ronnie, the closest to him, spun around, and the other two looked back in his direction.

  “Look who came to visit!” said Ronnie gleefully. “If it isn’t old piss-boy! Did you get bored? Looking to have some fun with the big boys?”

  “N-n-no,” stammered Daniel. “J-just leave Kate alone. Sh-she didn’t do nothin’ to you.”

  “Are you trying to protect her, Daniel?” asked Billy. “Do you think you can be a hero?” Aston and Ronnie both laughed at that.

  “You messed up bad today, Danny,” pronounced the blond-headed Aston, moving toward him.

  Over Aston’s shoulder Daniel could see Kate had scooted back and was standing now. Billy’s attention had been diverted long enough for her to get away. Slipping sideways he dodged Aston’s first wild roundhouse swing and stepped even closer, hoping to hold their interest long enough for her to escape. Billy was watching him carefully now, failing to see that the girl he had been taunting was now more than fifteen feet away.

  Kate’s a fast runner, thought Daniel. If she gets a decent head start, I doubt he can catch her. Jumping backward, he avoided Aston’s second swing, but Ronnie was moving around now, trying to get behind him to make sure he couldn’t escape. Once he moved in, the fight would be over.

  Billy glanced around to see that his quarry had slipped away.

  “Run Kate!” shouted Daniel, his voice at full volume now, “He’s too slow to catch y…”

  Ronnie had closed faster than Daniel expected, and something hard struck him in the side of the head, cutting off his words. Daniel’s vision blurred a bit as he fell, but he could see Kate running back up the trail toward her home. Billy was standing indecisively, unsure whether to give chase or join the battle. His hesitation made the choice for him; it was far too late to catch the girl now.

  A second blow arrived, this one striking Daniel in the midsection. Bereft of air now, he found himself on all fours, struggling to breathe. The other boys moved to surround him and took their time, kicking him whenever he seemed close to recovering. Some of the attacks were mild, using their feet to shove him back down, or blows to his legs and buttocks, but occasionally one of them would deliver a brutal blow to his midsection or lower back. Soon he had given up any hope of escape and curled into a ball, shifting now and then to try and avoid the most painful strikes.

  “You better leave! I’m going to tell! You’ll get in trouble if you don’t let him alone!” Kate’s voice rang out. She hadn’t run far and was now shouting down at them from a short distance up the trail, hoping her threat might persuade the boys to give up their sport.

  “You think she’s serious?” asked Aston. “Maybe we should go.”

  Billy spoke up then, “Nah, she ain’t got nobody.” Raising his voice he shouted back, “Who you gonna tell? Your daddy?! He’s dead! Run tell your momma, little girl! She ain’t gonna come down here!” To punctuate his remark, he broke with tradition and kicked Daniel hard in the side of the head, causing his ear to bleed. It was the first time any of them had attacked him there.

  “Careful, Billy,” said Ronnie. “That sort of thing can get dangerous.”

  “You scared he might die?” said the younger boy.

  “I don’t give a damn about that,” replied the older boy, stomping on Daniel’s lower leg to emphasize the point. “But if we hurt him too bad it’s bound to cause trouble.”

  He never got a chance to say more, as a flash of brown, grey and black leapt from the brush and knocked him sideways. Blue had arrived in a snarling fury of teeth, biting down savagely on Ronnie’s arm even as he fell.

  “Shit! It’s his damn dog!” shouted Aston, backing away and looking for a weapon to use. Recalling a heavy limb he had spotted in the grass a few minutes ago, he looked that way just in time to see Kate lifting it from the ground. Her swing might have knocked him silly if he hadn’t brought his arm up to guard his head, even so the weight of the blow sent pain shivering through his body and left his arm numb.

  Blue’s ferocity and Kate’s club broke their morale and the bullies withdrew quickly, leaving Daniel bloody but still conscious on the ground.

  “Daniel? Are you alright?” asked Kate, leaning over him. His vision was blurred, but he could hear the tears in her voice, even if his eyes refused to focus on her properly.

  “Yeah,” he answered awkwardly. Shame burned through him more powerfully than even the pain of his injuries. He had tried to protect her but had only wound up being beaten in front of his friend.

  She bent down and tried to help him up, but he pushed her away. “We need to clean you up,” said Kate. “Let me help you to the house.”

  “I’ll just go home.”

  “Your house is over a mile from here,” she replied, with disapproval in her voice.

  Standing on his own now he could feel his body swaying. His balance was off, and he felt as if he were on the rolling deck of a ship. Nausea passed over him in waves, and he fought to keep from retching. The last thing I want is for her to see me throwing up. It’s already bad enough, he thought silently.

  An arm slid around his waist as she steadied him. Looking over, he saw her thick red hair as she got her head and shoulder under his arm. There was no denying her strength as she began pulling him along, using her body to force him up the trail toward her house. She smelled faintly of grass and the earth, but it was a good smell, an honest one.

  “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as she helped him sit on the porch of her home. Everything was beginning to hurt more as his bruises matured.

  “Don’t apologize to me. It’s my fault this happened to you. What you did was brave,” she replied seriously giving him a steady look with soft green eyes. “Hold still while I fetch Momma.”

  She left him, but returned a moment later, trailing her mother, Brenda Sayer. The older woman was similar to her daughter in appearance, she was barely past thirty and she still had the healthy figure of a much younger woman. A stranger might have thought she was merely Kate’s older sister.

  “Oh! Gods! What happened to Danny?” she exclaimed, leaning in to examine him. With one hand she lifted his chin and turned his head so she could examine his still bleeding ear.

  Daniel was too embarrassed to respond, but Kate filled her mother in without reservation, detailing the other boys’ hostility and her friend’s gallant attempt to intervene on her behalf. It sounded much better the way she described it.

  “There’ll be hell to pay once your dad hears about this,” said Brenda. “He’ll be down in Colne talking to their fathers.”

  “Please,” begged Daniel, “I don’t want to stir anything up. Don’t tell my dad.” It was already embarrassing enough without announcing to the entire town that he ha
d been thoroughly whipped.

  “And how do you think you’d hide this?” asked Kate’s mother. “Just look at you! You’re bleeding from the ear, one eye is swelling shut, and unless I miss my guess, the rest of you is covered in bruises. Let’s get this shirt off of you.”

  “No!” protested Daniel, but there was no help for it. Brenda unfastened the buttons on his shirt while her daughter went back to the river to fetch the buckets and some fresh water. When she returned, the two of them cleaned his cuts and scrapes, rinsing them gently to remove the dirt that seemed to cover him. By the end of it he was shivering in the cold air, and the water had soaked into his trousers as well.

  The two of them moved him into the house and gave him a thick blanket to use while his clothes dried. Daniel felt both grateful and humiliated simultaneously, but neither emotion kept him from using the opportunity to sneak looks at Kate.

  He hadn’t seen her much in the last couple of years, since he had begun tending the sheep, and she had grown considerably in that time. Her body was noticeably different now, curving in ways that it hadn’t before. Kate’s hips were fuller, and there was a hint of something under her shirt. A glance at her mother gave him a good guess what that might be, and Daniel found himself blushing. Kate’s mother was amply endowed.

  Fool! She’ll never think of you that way now! He was certain that seeing him so thoroughly stomped by the other boys would permanently ruin his chances with Kate.

  After a couple of hours his clothes were sufficiently dry, and Brenda decided that he seemed well enough to make the modest walk home. Blue was waiting for him outside their front door, tail swishing expectantly.

  The sheep! “Forget about me, Blue! Go check on the flock. Go!” commanded Daniel. For some reason he had thought the dog had returned to the sheep as soon as his fight had ended. “I have to check on them before I head home,” he informed his hosts.