Page 10

LEXI

I was washing dishes from an early dinner. Dude was sitting beside me on the counter. “You know, you’re getting very insolent. Cooper hates cat butt on the kitchen counters; it’s bad enough you’re walking around here, but sitting...?”

Dude gave me an insolent look.

“Fine, I guess since he’s out of town, it’s fine. But no getting in the butter. I can see you eyeing it, you’re waiting for me to leave the room.”

Dude meowed, staring at the butter dish.

I put the lid back on it.

“No touching it. No pushing the top off. No eating butter.”

He stood up and batted my arm.

“I know, I love you too. You’re the best boy in the world.” He stared at me, that — I'm a good boy and slowly starving to death and you know you love me — look. I caved. Lid off, spoon in. I held it for him to lick.

I said, “I know I know, Dude, I am such a push-over, Cooper would agree if he was here.”

It was dusk, the light was dimming. Near the trees I thought I saw the first lightning bug of the season.

I smiled, peering out, thinking about how my mom would have said, “The first one, that’s good luck!”

But then I realized the wind was whipping up, spiraling around the ground. Dust rose from the ground up into the air — there was a roaring sound of a gusting wind.

Another storm? Holy shit, what was happening?

I got scared.

“I need the gun.” I turned and raced up the stairs again, taking two at a time, and yanked open the drawer, pulled the gun, and barreled back down the stairs.

I burst out the door onto the porch as a brutally ferocious wind gust slammed into me and sent me falling back against the wall. Holy smokes.

There was a loud thunderclap at the same time and a giant flash of light.

With my back to the house, I put my arm up to block the spraying rain, the splashing mud, the wind blustering around the porch, whipping my hair.

My heart was racing. I shook, certain there was something paranormal about this storm — it was too big, too intense, too sudden. It lasted for about the longest eight minutes of my life before it began to wane.

Thankfully, except out in the distance on the edge of my lawn were two forms. Definitely human. Two.

My eyes were on them as I crept forward, almost dark now, the ground wet from the brief yet torrential rain. I kept my gun ready, but for what? The two forms were unconscious.

I got about twenty feet away and one of the bodies moved.

I froze.

The other body moved its arm.

It was now too dark to fully make them out, but one did resemble Torin — he was here again , in my freaking yard. And now he had brought a friend.

I was so shocked I didn’t know what to do.

I was frozen, staring, as the other man slowly dragged a big sword close.

He was dressed like Torin in that same kind of medieval costume.

They both had on pale yellow, linen shirts, and both were wearing kilts with tartan print fabric that gathered over one of their shoulders.

But in contrast Torin’s clothes made him look fancy and rich.

He wore that blue cloak with the wolf fur trim fastened with that silver brooch, and with the green embroidered details on his cuffs and down the front of his shirt.

His clothes were far more elaborate than the other man’s.

Was he Torin’s friend? Did they come to fight me, were they going to kill me?

But then Torin lumbered to his feet, dragging up his sword. He bellowed, “Drop yer sword!”

The other man stood with a groan. “Nae, ye drop yer sword.” They sounded murderous towards each other.

Torin staggered, holding his sword up. Both looked dangerous, but exhausted, dazed, and weak. Torin looked like he was in real pain.

The two men stumbled at each other swinging. Their swords clanged together, a clang so loud it hurt my eardrums. I shrieked.

They both turned as if noticing me for the first time.

The other man started stalking toward me, his sword swung back as if he planned to strike me down. I froze. I don’t know why, but I did.

But then Torin barreled toward him with his shoulder down, plowing into his side, knocking him stumbling off balance.

Torin recovered his feet and moved in front of me. “Stay behind me!”

I did, I got right behind him. I thought about trying to help — I could shoot the guy.

The man had a sword on my land, I had the right to kill him, but that was easier said than done.

Ultimately, I didn’t really know how to kill someone with this gun.

Despite carrying it around as if it was my protection, I had never shot it before.

I backed up, as the two men swung their swords again and again, clang clang, carving at each other, trying to kill each other, and then Torin was caught off balance. He stumbled.

The guy he was fighting raised his sword to swing it down?—

Torin yelled over his shoulder, “Run!”

I turned and bolted toward the house.

Torin was going to die.

The man was going to kill him — oh my god, they were battling to the death on my lawn.

I hit the porch at top speed, raced in the door, yanked the screen door around after me — clang!

Clash! — and tried to get the latch in the eye hook.

My hands shook too much, I could not get it to lock. And this was not enough protection.

I slammed and locked the front door and rushed to the window to see Torin shove the other man, then charge him, swinging his sword.

His opponent had been sliced, blood soaked his shirt.

He stayed on his feet, but lost ground, backing away, stumbling, then finally, he turned and ran.

Torin chased him, up the lawn, down the driveway and out to the main road.

I pressed my face to the window, watching as Torin drew to a stop at the end of my gravel driveway.

He doubled over, his sword fell to the ground, he clutched his arm as if he were in great pain, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground.

Carrying my gun, I unlatched the door and rushed back out. “Torin, are you okay?!”

His breaths were bullish. “Och nae, Mistress Lexi, tis verra sore.”

I crouched beside him. “Did you get cut? Are you bleeding?”

He was on his side on the gravel, a rock poking into his forehead, his words clipped between his short breaths. “Nae.. tis m’shoulder... only... twill pass.”

I looked down the road, I couldn’t see the other man. “Do you think the other man is injured?”

“Aye, gravely. I hae slain him, but it might take some time afore he falls.”

“Great. That sounds like trouble.”

He moaned, his face was a grimace.

“Do you need medicine? How long has it been since your last?”

“It has been days since m’last, and a verra long time since m’last meal and drink.”

“Oh no. Let’s see. I gave you painkillers and a sandwich yesterday,” I counted on my fingers, “That’s been a full day, you must be feeling it, and you must be famished if you haven’t eaten anything else... Okay, let me think of what to do.” I glanced all around taking stock.

There had been a sword fight, this stranger had returned, somehow, there was now a man bleeding, possibly to death, running down the main road.

Cheese Louise, this was likely to be a big issue, could I harbor a murderer and make him another sandwich?

“I just… I can’t take you inside, Torin, it just doesn’t seem safe…

I have the back house, my uncle was living there, he named it the back-shack.

It’s closed up, let me go get the key...

” I pointed. “Do you see it, down there? Can you make it there?”

He sat up gingerly holding his arm. “Aye, I can get there, Mistress Lexi.”

“Meet me there, I’m going to get the key, hold on.”

I rushed to the house, thinking, Did Torin just kill that man?

I was insane to give a murderer food. Likely certifiably insane. But then again that man had charged at me. He had wanted to kill me. Torin had saved my life.

I banged through the screen door entrance, stalked down the hall to the kitchen, and grabbed the key to the back-shack from the hook near the door.

I grabbed the Tylenol, a bottle of water.

I wasn’t sure if there would be ice in the freezer down there, I decided if he needed food I could get that later. I didn’t need to be... too nice.

He had just likely killed someone. With a sword.

Of course I had thought about killing that guy with the gun. But I didn’t actually do it. I wasn’t crazy, I thought to myself as I returned to unlock the door for him to rest in my back house.