The Last Guardian Read Online Free Page B

gone.”
    “Who?” Nu asked, not daring to look up.
    “The reptiles. You are in great danger, my friend. Death stalks you.”
    “Death stalks us all,” Nu replied. “No man avoids him forever.”
    “There is truth in that. I do not know where you are going—nor do I want to know. But I see a strange land and a gray rider. His hands hold great power. He is the man of thunder. He is the doom of worlds. I do not know if he is a friend or an enemy, but you are linked to him. Walk warily.”
    “Too late for that,” said Nu. “Will you join me in a drink?”
    “Your company is—I think—too perilous for me. Go with God.”

5
    B ETH M C A DAM CLIMBED down from the wagon, gave the broken wheel a hard kick, and cursed long and fluently. Her two children sat in amused silence on the tailboard. “Wouldn’t you just know it?” said Beth. The wooden rim had split and torn free the metal edge; she kicked it again. Samuel tried to stifle the giggle with his fist, but it exploded from him in a high peal. Beth stormed around to the rear of the wagon, but the boy squirmed up over the piled furniture where she could not reach him.
    “You little snapper-gut!” she yelled. Then Mary began to laugh, and Beth swung on her.
    “You think it’s funny to be trapped out here with the wolves … and the enormous lions?”
    Mary’s face fell, and Beth was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, honey. There ain’t no lions. I was only joking.”
    “You promise?” said Mary, gazing out over the plain.
    “I do. And even if there was, he’d know better than to come anywhere near your ma when she’s angry. And you come down from there, Samuel, or I’ll rip out your arms and feed ’em to the wolves.”
    His blond head peeped over the chest of drawers. “You ain’t gonna whack me, Ma?”
    “I ain’t gonna whack you, snapper-gut. Help Mary get the pots unloaded. We’re going to have to camp here and figure a way to mend the wagon.”
    While the children busied themselves preparing acampfire, Beth sat on a boulder and stared hard at the wheel. They would need to unload everything, then try to lever up the empty wagon while she manhandled the spare wheel into place. She was sure she could do it, but could the children handle the lever? Samuel was big for a seven-year-old, but he lacked the concentration necessary for such a task, and Mary, at eight, was wand-thin and would never muster the power needed. But there had to be a way … there always was.
    Ten years earlier, when her mother had been beaten to death by a drunken father, the twelve-year-old Beth Newson had taken a carving knife and cut his throat in his sleep. Then, with seven silver Barta coins, she had walked seventy miles to Seeka Settlement and spun a terrible tale of brigands and killers raiding the farm. For three years the Committee had made her live with Seth Reid and his wife, and she had been treated like a slave. At fifteen she had set her cap at the powerful logger Sean McAdam. The poor man had no chance against her wide blue eyes, long blond hair, and hip-swinging walk. Beth Newson was no beauty, with her heavy brows and large nose, but by heaven, she knew what to do with what God had given her. Sean McAdam fell like a poleaxed bull, and they were wed three months later. Seven months after that Mary had been born, and a year later Samuel. The previous fall Sean had decided to move his family south, and they had purchased a wagon from Meneer Grimm and set off with high hopes. But the first town they reached had been hit by the Red Death. They had left swiftly, but within days Sean’s huge body had been covered with red weeping sores; the glands under his arms had swelled, and all movement had brought pain. They had camped in a high meadow, and Beth had tended him day and night, but despite his awesome strength Sean McAdam had lost the fight for life, and Beth had buried him on the hillside. Before they could move on, Samuel was struck down by the illness.