The Nine

by Terry Cloutier

  ​ I could feel my body starting to shake again, this time with anger as I glared at the Pith leader. “If it wasn’t for the three of us you would have been beaten!” I shouted at him. “You know it and I know it.” Einhard looked at me blankly and he crossed his arms, listening. “We’ve been prisoners for nine years in that stinking hole back there,” I said, pointing toward Father’s Arse. “We could have run the moment we were free, but we didn’t.” I gestured to Jebido and Baine with my sword. “They had as much to do with helping you to defeat those soldiers as I did and now you’re going to reward them by killing them? Don’t you have any honor or are you just an unfeeling stinking savage?”

  ​ “Careful, boy!” Einhard growled, his green eyes turning hard and dangerous.

  ​ My anger was consuming me by this time and heedless of the consequences I pointed the tip of my sword at Einhard’s chest. “You don’t scare me. If you want to kill them you’ll have to kill me first!” I could feel the veins in my temples throbbing as I glared at Einhard. “Our blood won’t be the only blood spilled here today, mark my words,” I promised him.

  ​ Einhard stared at me, his eyes glittering with deadly promise as we locked gazes before finally his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile. “The puppy has teeth, I see,” he said. He glanced at Jebido and Baine briefly, then shrugged and turned back to me. “Your point is well made, Ganderman. You and your friends deserve consideration for what you did. Drop your weapons and I’ll let you live, at least for now while I think on it.”

  ​ “How do I know that I can trust you?” I demanded.

  ​ Einhard frowned. “Because I am Einhard, Sword of the king, and you have my word as a warrior on it. If that’s not good enough for you then hold onto that sword and suffer the consequences.” I glanced over my shoulder at Jebido and he nodded slightly, and I felt myself start to relax. I twirled the sword in my hand and handed it hilt first to the Pith leader. Jebido and Baine both dropped their weapons to the ground and Einhard turned to the big Pith. “Eriz, see that the Gandermen are given food and drink and keep them out of the way until I call for them.”

  ​ “It will be done, brother,” Eriz said in a deep voice.

  ​ Einhard grinned a dazzling smile at me. “We’ll talk later, you and I.” He turned to go, then glanced back at me. “Remember, Ganderman, even puppies with teeth need to be careful when surrounded by wolves.” He winked at me and then headed for the fortress with the rest of his men.

  ​ “This way,” Eriz rumbled, motioning for us to follow him. We crossed over the bridge and made our way along the road into the encampment, where I could see many bodies strewn all across the ground. As we walked, I saw several women and children also lying among the fallen. One of the dead women was almost completely naked and had clearly been raped. I grit my teeth, averting my eyes. The innocents always paid the price when men made war, I realized. The heavy wooden gate to the fortress lay shattered in pieces on the ground and the sounds of screams and cheers could clearly be heard coming from inside the building. Eriz turned us away from the fortress toward an open area where a row of large black iron pots hung suspended from long poles held up by a tripod at each end. The fires beneath the pots had burnt themselves out and now only smoking coals remained. To our left stood a large stump with an axe leaning against it, and beyond that several haphazard rows of firewood were stacked. Twisted bodies lay on the ground near the cooking pots and we had to step over them as we walked.

  ​ A line of squat white tents rose beyond the cooking fires, and in front of them, ten or so of the king’s men knelt unarmed in the grass with their heads lowered. Piths stood around the Gandermen in a half-circle and they were jeering and spitting on the kneeling men. A tall Pith with massive, heavily tattooed arms moved to stand above the first soldier in line. He drew his sword, raised it over his head and then brought it down hard across the back of the soldier’s exposed neck. The man’s head flew off and his body sagged, spurting blood in a stream as it collapsed. The Piths cheered mightily and one man started measuring the distance the blood had flown with his feet. I couldn’t help but think of my father with sadness as I watched.

  ​ “What are they doing?” Baine whispered.

  ​ Eriz chuckled softly. “They’re playing bloodline.” He gestured with his chin. “Watch.” The tattooed Pith moved to the next man in line and swung down again, severing the man’s head. Blood spurted out in a stream onto the ground and the Piths converged on it, gesturing and arguing while the distance was measured. A moment later cries of glee and shouted curses arose, and I saw what looked like small strips of silver reluctantly changing hands. I learned later that the Piths valued silver above all else and they used small shards of it, called fingers, like we would use gold coins. “Stay here and don’t move,” Eriz growled at us. “I’ll be right back.” The big Pith glared at us and then hurried over to the tents, where we could clearly hear him placing bets. He, along with the other Piths, cheered as the next man in line lost his head.

  ​ “Savages!” Baine muttered as we stood watching helplessly.

  ​ “Yes,” Jebido agreed with a sigh. “But these savages hold our lives in their hands.”

  ​ “We could make a run for it,” I suggested as I realized the Piths had seemingly forgotten about us in their enthusiasm for their game.

  ​ “And get how far on foot?” Jebido grunted. “They’d catch us for certain.”

  ​ “We could steal some of those horses,” Baine suggested, nodding to where a bunch of the animals stood tethered and grazing near the eastern palisade wall.

  ​ Jebido snorted at him. “Can you ride?” Baine’s thin face fell and he shook his head. Jebido looked at me. “What about you, Hadrack?” I shook my head as well. I was a peasant and had never been on a horse. “I didn’t think so,” Jebido muttered. “The Piths are magnificent horsemen. How long do you think it’d be before they caught us with a couple of inexperienced riders like you two?”

  ​ “Then what do we do?” I asked.

  ​ Jebido shrugged. “We see how this plays out, I suppose. Their leader seems to have taken a shine to you, Hadrack.” He frowned at me. “So I suggest if you want us to keep our heads on our shoulders you’d better make sure he keeps on liking you.”

  ​ “How am I supposed to do that?” I asked.

  ​ “For starters you can watch that temper of yours,” Jebido said. “It got away from you earlier and it almost got us all killed.” I started to protest that if it hadn’t been for me, he and Baine would have been dead anyway, but then I thought better of it. Jebido was right. Losing my temper with Einhard had worked out for us this time. The next time we might not be so lucky and I resolved to try and think more before letting my emotions take over.

  ​ “They’re finished!” Baine hissed to us in warning, gesturing with his chin to the Piths. The king’s men had all lost their heads and the Piths began walking back to the fortress, laughing and joking among themselves. Eriz returned to us with a grin on his face and I saw a flash of silver as he dropped something into a small leather bag he held.

  ​ “Come along,” Eriz said as he tucked the bag into his tunic. We followed him around the sprawled bodies of the headless Gandermen and made our way toward one of the white tents. Eriz swept aside the flap and ushered us inside. The interior of the tent was damp and smelled strongly of mould, sweat, and piss. Filthy looking furs lined the floor and a small wooden bench with a chunk missing from the top sat near the back of the tent. “Stay here until I return for you,” Eriz ordered as he stood in the entrance. He wrapped his big fingers around the hilt of his sword and glared at us. “If you try to leave, I will kill you.” He motioned to the furs. “Sleep if you like. Food and drink will be brought shortly.” The big Pith left and the three of us sat on the furs and talked for a while before a frightened looking old woman came in carrying a wooden tray with mugs of ale and food on it. She was dressed in a drab tunic and skirt and refused to meet our eyes as she gave u
s the ale and a hunk each of barley bread. I tried talking to her but she just shook her head slightly and glanced at the entrance with haunted eyes. She left as quickly as she could. The bread was mouldy and dry, but having spent nine years down in Father’s Arse, we barely even noticed.

  ​ “What do you know about these Piths?” I asked Jebido around a mouthful of bread.

  ​ Jebido drained his mug, then lifted one cheek and farted mightily before he answered. “Nasty in a fight,” he said. “Deadly with a sword or bow on foot or on horseback. They like to strike hard and fast, take whatever plunder and women they can and then disappear back to their lands.” He slapped at his arm and fished through the dark hairs before crushing and tossing a flea that had bitten him aside. “Rutting, gambling and fighting is what those bastards live for, so I’ve heard.”

  ​ “So you mean they’re like most soldiers, then?” I said with a grin.

  ​ “I guess that’s fair enough,” Jebido laughed. His face turned serious. “One thing I find curious is Fanch referred to Einhard as the Sword of the King.”

  ​ I shrugged. “What’s so curious about that?”

  ​ “The last I knew the Piths had no king,” Jebido said.

  ​ “So who’s in charge then?” Baine asked.

  ​ “That’s just it,” Jebido said. “The Piths have always been separated into tribes, with each tribe commanded by a warlord. They never had a king before and from what I heard, spent more time fighting each other than anyone else.”

  ​ “I guess that’s changed,” I said.

  ​ “I’d say so,” Jebido agreed.

  ​ “Is it true they don’t believe in The Mother and The Father?” Baine asked.

  ​ “What?” I gasped in surprise. I couldn’t even fathom such an idea. What kind of savages were these Piths? I wondered.

  ​ “True,” Jebido nodded with a look of distaste on his face. “They believe that only one god created the earth and the skies and they call him the Master.”

  ​ “That’s just stupid,” I snorted. “The First Pair made this world for us, Their children. Only a fool would think otherwise.”

  ​ Jebido lifted a hand. “I agree wholeheartedly, Hadrack, but I wouldn’t go calling these Piths fools to their faces and pissing on their beliefs if I were you. Fools they may well be. But these fools can kill us whenever they choose.”

  ​ “Do you think the Piths and Ganderland are at war now, Jebido?” Baine asked. “Or is this just some kind of random raid?”

  ​ Jebido looked thoughtful. “This seems too targeted to be that,” he said. “When the Piths raided in the past, they usually just hit easy prey like unprotected towns and villages. As far as I know they’ve never attacked a fortified position like this one before.” He grimaced. “Then again, since they seem to have united under a single king, this might be a common thing now.”

  ​ I thought of Corwick and how the Piths had been blamed for its destruction and I frowned as I remembered something Jebido had told me about it years ago. “Jebido,” I said. “You once told me you had a theory about why the Lord of Corwick blamed what happened in Corwick on the Piths. What was it?”

  ​ Jebido made a face “I did?”

  ​ “Yes,” Baine said. “I remember you saying it. It was right after that time the Head tried to bash in Hadrack’s skull with his club. Remember?”

  ​ “That’s right,” Jebido said. He grinned. “I must be getting old or something. I forgot all about that.”

  ​ “You told me you thought the nine killed the Son and Daughter for a reason,” I prompted him.

  ​ “Well, it’s just a theory I had at the time,” Jebido said. He turned to Baine. “Did you ever go to The First Holy House in Gandertown?”

  ​ “A few times,” Baine nodded. He looked at me. “That’s where The First Son and First Daughter live.”

  ​ “I know that,” I said. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

  ​ “Could have fooled me,” Baine said with a grin.

  I ignored Baine and looked at Jebido. “Son Fadrian and Daughter Elias taught us all about it. They even had a painting of The First Holy House on one wall of the nave.”

  ​ “I saw them once,” Baine said. “The First Son and Daughter.” He made a face. “Both of them were old and shrivelled.”

  ​ “That may be so,” Jebido grunted, “but old or not they live close to the king and wield enormous power and influence over him.”

  ​ “Power over the king?” Baine said, looking shocked by the idea. “Really?”

  ​ Jebido nodded. “King Jorquin is very devout. Some say overly so, and he always listens to what they say.”

  ​ “What does any of this have to do with Corwick?” I asked.

  ​ “Well, I’m just guessing,” Jebido said. “But I think blaming the murders of The Son and Daughter on the Piths was done so the king had a reason to attack them.”

  ​ “I don’t understand,” Baine said. “He’s the king. He can attack anyone he wants, can’t he?”

  ​ Jebido shook his head. “Not in this case. I know for a fact that King Jorquin wants the Piths’ lands. The problem is The First Son and Daughter expressly forbade him from attacking them.”

  ​ “But why?” Baine asked. “The Piths are savages. Why would they care?”

  ​ “The First Son and Daughter were convinced they could save the Piths souls by bringing them back to The Mother and The Father,” Jebido explained. “So the king’s hands were tied and he could do nothing.”

  ​ “Until word got out about what had happened in Corwick,” I said in sudden understanding.

  ​ “Exactly,” Jebido agreed. “That’s my theory, anyway.”

  ​ Baine shook his head, looking thoughtful. “But it doesn’t make any sense,” he protested. “Are you saying what happened at Corwick was planned all along by the king just so he could attack the Piths?”

  ​ Jebido snorted. “Of course not! Corwick was seen as an opportunity is what I’m suggesting.”

  ​ “An opportunity by who?” I asked, pretty sure I already knew the answer.

  ​ “Lord Corwick,” Jebido said. He glanced at me. “Lord Corwick is King Jorquin’s nephew. I think the killing of Lord Corwick’s brother, the Reeve, was a perfect opportunity to not only exact revenge for his brother’s death, but also help his uncle get what he wanted.” Jebido stretched out his legs on the furs and yawned. “Obviously I don’t know what’s happened in the last nine years, but there you have it. That’s my take on the whole thing.”

  ​ “But you said the Piths had attacked villages before,” I pointed out.

  ​ “Yes,” Jebido agreed. “But they always left the Holy Houses strictly alone. I think that’s what made this time so unforgivable for The First Son and Daughter.”

  ​ I nodded to him in understanding and lay down on the foul smelling furs, suddenly feeling exhausted. I closed my eyes and pictured that day in Corwick, seeing again the young lord riding up to my farm with Hervi Desh by his side. Had the bastard been planning it even then? I wondered. I thought about my father and Son Fadrian and Daughter Elias and all the others murdered that day. They’d just been pawns in a game they neither knew, nor cared about. I felt my stomach churn with hatred for Lord Corwick and the nine and I tried to sleep, but as tired as I was, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and sleep eluded me. I don’t know how long I lay that way, but eventually the great bulk of Eriz appeared in the entrance.

  ​ “Gandermen, the Sword requests your presence,” the big Pith rumbled as he peered in at us. I sat up immediately and noticed that Baine was awake as well. He turned and shook Jebido out of his slumber and together we stood and joined Eriz outside. Darkness had fallen at some point while we lay in the tent and a weak half-moon shone down on us. Two silent Piths fell into step behind us as Eriz led us toward the stone fortress in the distance. Four Piths appeared out of the gloom and one of them said something in a slurred voice to Eriz, who just shook his head and kept
moving. The four Piths laughed and stumbled away, clearly drunk. We made our way across the compound and as we drew closer to the fortress, I saw that long poles with torches on the ends had been shoved into the ground every ten feet or so, lighting our path. A man and woman stood by one of the poles holding hands and talking and they smiled and nodded to Eriz. The man wasn’t overly tall, but he was built like an ox, with massive arms and legs. The woman was wearing a long white tunic under leather armour and had a bow slung over her shoulder. I realized she must have been one of the archers I’d seen protecting the Piths attacking the fortress gate. She was slim and pretty and had long blonde hair on one side of her head and on the other side it was completely shaven. I was to learn that this was a common style for the Pith women.

  ​ “Eriz, there you are!” the woman said as we approached. I noticed she held a bottle in her right hand and was slurring her words slightly. “I looked everywhere for you.” She glanced at her companion and grinned. “Tato beat you to me, so you’ll have to wait.”

  ​ Eriz laughed. “I don’t have time right now, anyway, Ania,” he said. He gestured to us with his thumb. “I’ve got to deliver these Gandermen to Einhard. I’ll find you when I’m finished.” Ania glanced at the three of us, pausing to study me with interest before finally she shrugged and took a swig from the bottle. Eriz slapped the shoulder of the Pith holding her hand. “Don’t wear her out, you big-cocked bastard!”

  ​ “Not possible!” Ania called out cheerfully to our backs as we moved on.

  ​ Many of the buildings outside the fortress had burnt themselves out, I noted, though the air still smelled heavily of charred wood. I glanced around as more Piths stumbled past us. Other than Eriz and our two silent guards, everyone else appeared to be drunk. I didn't see any sentries posted anywhere. Einhard hadn’t struck me as such a reckless leader and I thought that perhaps an opportunity to escape might show itself. I shared a look with Jebido, pretty sure he was thinking the same thing. Eriz guided us through the shattered gates of the fortress and into the outer courtyard. To the left of the gate stood a modest stable, and to the right a row of long, low buildings. The biggest building sat in the middle of these and the sign of the Blazing Sun and the Rock of Life hung side by side over the door. A man wearing the flowing black robes of a priest was hung by his wrists in front of the door from a rope that had been nailed to the top of the Holy House. The priest’s bare feet dangled several inches off the ground and I could see the immense agony he was in on his face. Several Piths stood around him pricking him with their knives and laughing each time the priest tried to wiggle away from the points. There was no sign of the priestess anywhere, but I spied her yellow robes lying on the ground and I grimaced, not wanting to imagine what had become of her. Eriz led us across the outer courtyard and then through the inner gateway, which was protected by an archery tower on each side and a long gatehouse. The inner gate lay open and undamaged and we passed through it into the inner courtyard, where we saw a Pith man and woman rutting openly. Dead Ganderland soldiers lay everywhere in the courtyard, but the Piths seemed completely oblivious to the dead as they coupled.