The Thunder King (Bell Mountain) Read Online Free PDF Page A

he knew had died in the defense of the town.
    “They’re fine,” Ellayne said. “The Heathen came and my father beat them. He probably has all the men working to make the walls stronger, in case the Heathen come again.”
    “Do you really think I’m taller?”
    “Stand still a minute. We’ll see.”
    Ellayne stood in front of him, up close, and put her hand on top of her head, and slid it forward to touch the middle of Jack’s forehead.
    “You weren’t that much taller than me when we started out,” she said. “Burn it, I wish I’d grow! Do you think I have, any?”
    Jack could only shrug. “I can’t tell,” he said; and Ellayne sniffed at him. “Boys don’t notice anything,” she said.
    “Well, you’re stronger—I’ve noticed that,” he answered. “You can walk or ride all day and not get tired.”
    “Oh, I’m tired, all right! And I want my supper.”
    A few minutes later, Martis returned.
    “It’s all right—it’s only a refugee from Cardigal. Cardigal has fallen,” he said. “But he’s found a nice place to camp, and he won’t mind our company.”
     

     
    Indeed, the man looked badly in need of company. His face was dirty, his clothes dirtier. He had a fire, but that was all he had: nothing to eat.
    “I was hoping you’d have something!” he said. “I haven’t had a bite of meat or bread, or a sip of milk or wine, since I got away from the city. And I’ve lost track of how many days that is.”
    His name was Ivor. He had a shop in Cardigal where he sold cheese and pies and pastries. Trekking over the plain was hard on him.
    “I don’t imagine there’s anything left of my shop, not with the whole city burned down.” He shuddered hard; his whole body shook. “Magic! That’s what it was—black magic, like in one of those stories from the old days. Heathen magic!”
    “Surely not,” said Martis.
    “Surely so! You weren’t there, so you don’t know. But I know. I know what I saw and heard. Merciful God! But God wasn’t there to help us, was He? The whole city went up in flames.”
    Martis comforted him with some of their water. He was in a bad way, shaking all over. They had some peaches from an orchard, and gave him one. He wolfed it down so fast, he almost swallowed the pit. But it did seem to do him some good.
    “Now what’s all this about magic?” Martis asked.
    Ivor licked the last of the peach juice off his dirty fingers.
    “Fire’s one thing,” he said. “We were prepared for fire. They had machines that pitched fireballs into the city.
    “But this was magic fire! Nobody could put it out. Water didn’t do no good. Wherever the fire landed, it grabbed hold and burned. And some of those fireballs—I saw this with my own eyes—had faces in them, and open mouths that screamed as they sailed over our walls. Say what you like: we all saw it. Not that there’s many of us left alive to tell the tale.
    “They had a magician with their army, a sorcerer. He rode up to the main gate and told the soldiers on the walls that unless we surrendered the city to him right away and let ourselves be sold into slavery, the magic of the Thunder King would reach out from the East and destroy us. But the captains wouldn’t listen. And so they threw their magic hellfire at us, and we couldn’t put it out.
    “All the people had to run for it, or else be burned alive. They killed all the soldiers. I don’t know how, but I got away. Just kept running and running until I couldn’t run anymore, and no one ever chased me. Been wandering around by myself ever since.
    “There was a prophet in the city. I don’t know what happened to him. He just disappeared one day. But while he was there, he told us it was the end of the world, rung in by God’s own bell. I guess he was right!”
    Jack was about to blurt out, “But we rang the bell!” Martis must have read his mind; his hand shot out, grabbed Jack’s shoulder, and squeezed it hard enough to hurt. Jack winced, but didn’t