A Children's Tale Read Online Free PDF

while Moira called over her shoulder. "Moira's here and I've the young miss with me."
"Miles and Sirrah William," was a small, shaken, piped reply from behind a tree. That was followed by a deeper voice that finished the call with a wheeze of, "Aye. We're hale and whole."
    Hunter limped a step or two and sat next to O'Fallon, "Aye, I'm here as well as any."
    "At least we be all breathin'." O'Fallon turned slightly to look up at the sky and the remaining steambat that circled far overhead. He turned back and leaned against the rough bark of the tree, eyes closed while he fought back a stab of pain.
    Moira tossed her pack on he ground and dug out a blanket which she promptly fashioned a crude shawl for the young girl. "Darlin' yer chilled. Ya shoulda' said somethin'."
    Angela, pale from the cold, fought another shudder. "I ... I'm alright. I'm more worried about Miles."
    Moira smiled. "Well yer a good sister at that, though. William! Get yer lazy backside up!"
    A small struggle ensued, but William emerged from the tangle of blankets and bags that threatened to bury him. Miles helped his friend with tossing a few blankets aside as well. "Aye ... just sortin' y'know?" 
    The shawl finished, a growl resounded in Moira's voice. “I'd just want ta be knowin' who the bloody buggers are!”
    Hunter exhaled a light cloud of breath. "I don't know." He looked over at young Miles, who was fully engrossed in helping William sort and repack the spilled blankets. The captain looked over at Angela in turn, bundled in her makeshift shawl. She was speaking to Moira shyly, much as any child being overly-doted on would.
    "I simply just do not know.” The captain repeated firmly in frustration. “What I do know is once we reach a village or somewhere with more shelter than a few trees, we can take a hand at repairing the opti-telegraphic and call the Griffin . Then perhaps pay these thugs back in kind."
    O'Fallon nodded slowly, careful of his head wound. "Aye tae that. Krumer'll be stayin' till past all the ship's stores run dry." He looked up at the remaining steambat that circled high above. "What be he doin' up there?"
    "Waiting for us to emerge from the trees, I'd likely imagine. He can't stay aloft all day. A craft that size doesn't have the fuel for that small a steam engine."
    While the two men watched, the craft dipped its wings once, twice, then gently banked to the right.
    O'Fallon frowned while he tried to guess the pilot's intent. "Now what be he on about?"
    In answer, a plume of white snow blossomed on the higher slopes of the mountain as a dull rumble of thunder growled in the distance.
    "Light's breath!" Hunter exclaimed.
    "Avalanche!"
    Ignoring their discarded packs, William hefted Miles and took the lead, crashing through the snow and dodging trees. Behind him ran Moira and Angela, then further back, Captain Hunter with O'Fallon. From up slope the white plume gave way to a curling wave of snow. At first it was a slow ripple along the mountainside, but in seconds it was a wall of ice, rock and snow several stories tall.
    The group raced downhill, shoving through ankle-deep snow. Thick, low-hanging boughs tore at their clothes, slowing them down while the deluge of snow and rocks roared closer behind them. William slid to a stop and pointed as young Miles collided into him in the rush.
    "Cap'n! There!"
    Off to William's right sat a cluster of ancient rocks that towered fifteen feet above. Caught in a depression in the ground, they stood tilted at a wide angle against each other. Most important, they were shelter. Hunter nodded once in appreciation then bellowed to be heard over the roar of the oncoming landslide.
    "To the rocks!"
    William and Miles reached the small cave first as the spray of snow pushed into the trees. Moira and Angela stumbled along moments later. Lagging behind were Captain Hunter and O'Fallon. Trees bent and snapped from the press of the avalanche, snow flying thick in the air like an icy waterfall. As