by E. S. Maya
Safi looked too, wondering if, from over there, Wulf could see the moon.
Now her tummy mewed like a cat. She scratched absently at the wood of the floor. Breakfast felt like days ago, and the men were moving slower than Titans out there.
A muffled conversation began outside the carriage door. She slowed her breathing and listened. Though they were many miles from the city, this place lacked the clean silence of the open road. The people outside exchanged words in deep, cautious tones. The scattered voices took turns rising, then lowered sharply before murmuring all at once.
Safi started when the padlock rattled against the carriage door. She heard it open with a clunk. The carriage door swung open and Bernold stepped inside. The look on his face surprised her. To put it politely, the Blackpoint recruiter had seen better days. With his large gloved hands, he unfastened the chain from the floor and led the recruits outside.
Safi’s eyes darted about, excited to find herself in her first Anderan village. But they were in a hamlet, if one could call it even that. There were a half-dozen buildings spread out beside the road, squat and weather-worn, looking little better than the cottages back home.
Still, the sight of the broken farm homes pulled at her lonesome heart. The warmth of a hearth would do well to chase the chill from her bones. A proper bed would do wonders for the ache in her back.
Captain Strauss took turns pointing his hooked nose at each of the recruits. Having looked them over proper, he hiked up his pants and nodded to his subordinate. Bernold returned the gesture, then took Wulf by the scruff of his neck. Off they marched, chain clinking between their feet. Safi heard a pair of farmers fall into step behind them.
At first, she noticed little difference between the plains of Andera and Ashcroft Valley. But as they walked, she realized the grass was harder, dryer, and the air nowhere near as cold. Craning her neck, she was relieved to find the same familiar stars, but as she followed the band of light to the shadowy landscape below, the sight drew her breath. There were no mountains in Andera, at least not in this part of it. Here the stars dusted the horizon, brushing the seam where land met sky.
One of the farmers raised a lantern, revealing the broad side of a barn down the way. Safi stifled a groan. It might have been red, once. The paint had long worn away, leaving behind the wooden planks in their wilted shades of brown.
When they arrived, Bernold eyed the barn doubtfully. He looked back at the two hunched farmers. “You’re certain this is secure?”
The bald farmer made a gesture to touch his hat. Finding only his bare head, he ran his leathery hand down his face. “Never had any trouble before. Solid Plumewood all the way ‘round. Hold ‘em as good as any box carriage.”
Bernold gave the barn door three sound knocks. He grumbled in approval.
“Ain’t never had any livestock escape before, either,” added the second farmer, who boasted an impressive head of gray hair. He stepped around Bernold and the five recruits, then flipped the metal latch that kept the barn doors locked. From the outside.
Raven’s fingers twitched at her sides. When she caught Safi staring, she stuffed her hands in her trouser pockets. The night was dark, but not so much that Safi missed the flush on Raven’s cheeks.
The gray-haired farmer braced his shoulder against one of the barn doors, sending it squealing open. It was too dark to see inside, but Safi sure could smell it. Stiv made a show of pinching his nose with one hand, batting the stench away with the other.
Bernold chuckled. “Trust me, the lot of you don’t smell much better.” Raven flopped her forearm over her head and sniffed her armpit. Safi resisted the urge to do the same. Erring on the side of safety, she folded her arms instead, and began taking peeks at Wulf.
Wulf caught her staring and smiled brightly in the dark. “It’s only smells,” he whispered. Safi’s ears tingled with heat.
Bernold continued, “You kids ever hear the saying, ‘spend the night in farmer’s hay, keep the creak of bones away’?” They shook their heads no. Bernold frowned, then began clapping his big hands excitedly. “Oh, oh, how about this one: ‘better a house with a mouse, than a mouse’s house’?”
They shook their heads no.
“I’ve heard that one,” the bald farmer said tentatively.
Frowning, Bernold thrust out an open hand and grunted. The bald farmer scrambled to hand over his lantern. Then the Blackpoint man led his recruits into the barn.
“Smells worse in than it does out,” Stiv said, forcing out a spat of coughs.
“I reckon it smells worse than spoilt cabbage,” Safi said. The round of chuckles that followed was most satisfying.
Bernold swung the lantern around the barn, making play of a thousand shadows. Despite the smell, Safi found not a cow, nor chicken, nor horse inside, for the last of which stood five empty stalls.
“Smells worse than the porridge farts of a back-alley beggar,” Raven said with a snort. Another round of laughter, even louder this time. Safi felt a pang of jealousy.
Wulf’s voice sounded out like the low chord of a fiddle. “Smells almost as bad as the breath of a Blessing Day brothel girl.” To that they laughed loudest of all, though Safi wasn’t entirely sure why.
“All right, all right,” Bernold said, easing his chuckle into a weary sigh. “Everyone shut up now.”
He brought them to the barn’s cleanest corner, which wasn’t saying much. Spotting the heaping mound of hay, Raven made a sound of pure delight. She threw herself into the pile, dragging Safi and the others with her.
“Not a minute inside and already you’re playing the fool!” Bernold stood over Raven and raised an open hand. He stared for a moment at her smiling, hay-sprinkled face, and let his arm flop to his side. With a sigh, he looked over the surroundings. “Sure is dark. If I leave you this here lantern, can the lot of you promise not to burn the damned barn down, or each other, or yourselves?”
Raven nodded eagerly, Stiv shrugged, and Goggles kept his mouth shut.
Bernold grunted at Wulf. “You seem to be the responsible sort.” He thrust the lantern into the boy’s hands. “It’s your job to keep this safe till morning, and out of these troublemakers’ hands.”
Wulf moved his hands off the hot bits, then lowered the lantern to his side. “Sure thing, boss.”
“And you,” Bernold said, turning to face Safi.
“Me?” Safi squeaked, pointing at herself, then tucking her hands behind her back.
Bernold wagged a thick finger. “You’ve been good thus far, but I don’t want any Southerling schemery out of you. Not tonight. The good Captain paid for this barn stay out of the goodness of his own heart.”
“And out of Blackpoint’s purse!” Raven added in a stage whisper, then began to crack up.
Bernold silenced her with a cuff to the head. “Out of the goodness of his own heart, as I was saying, so don’t go about doing anything that’ll earn you more than a smack on the broadside!” He scratched his mustache and took a deep breath. It was the sigh of a man long ready for bed. “That goes for the whole lot of you, not just the Southerling. Are we clear?”
“Yes, boss,” Wulf said quickly. “No problems tonight, not from any of us.”
Out the corner of her eye, Safi noticed a scowl on Stiv’s face.
“You’ll do good,” Bernold said, reaching to pat Wulf’s head. “Be back with your suppers in a while.” He staggered out of the barn and motioned for the farmers to slide the door shut.
The farmers shut them in and the latch gave a faint click. Not a second later, Raven leapt to her feet, pulling the rest of them with her. She had hardly taken a step before Stiv stomped down on the chain, bringing the girl to a jerking halt.
“What in the Nine Stones do you think you’re doing?” asked Stiv.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Raven hissed. “We’re going exploring.”
Shivering, Safi sank her unrestrained foot back into the hay. “Mister Bernold told us not to cause any trouble
.”
“Didn’t say we couldn’t go take a look,” Raven shot back. “Maybe if we’re lucky, we can find something to get these damned manacles off.”
“You want to escape?” Safi covered her mouth and gasped. Then she lowered her hands and smoothed her filthy dress. The thought of running away was tempting, foolish as it was.
“Escape!” Stiv guffawed. He folded his arms and pressed down more of his weight. “If any of our parents could afford to pay back Blackpoint’s purse, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”
“Like I give a damn about that!” Raven growled, turning towards Wulf. Much to Safi’s surprise, his face remained cool with indifference. Raven flicked out an arm that sent Stiv stumbling, then sprang towards Wulf, reaching for his lantern.
Wulf stepped back and raised the lantern high over his head. Raven started for it again, but drew her hand back, far too clever to be goaded into a game of keep-away.
“We’ll explore,” Wulf said firmly, to another dark look from Stiv. “But since I’ve got the lantern, I lead the way.”
Safi breathed with relief and was rewarded with an unexpected noseful of barn stink. She hoped the farmers weren’t so simple to have left anything behind they could use for escape. A little bootless exploration would sate Raven’s cravings, and the night could continue without incident. Safi looked away from the light and smiled. Wulf wasn’t just handsome. He was clever, too.
Raven shrugged. “Fine by me.”
They began to move, but the chain jerked taut.
“Just wait a damn second,” said Stiv, reaching to prod a finger at Wulf’s chest. “Who put the Anderan in charge?”
“Sergeant Bernold did,” Goggles said.
“I don’t give a damn about that stone-brained oaf!” Stiv glowered at Wulf. “And I’m not being led around by some street kid who’s spent half a day on the road.”
“It’s easier for someone at the end of the chain to lead the way,” Wulf said simply. “Not much more complicated than that.” Safi nodded in agreement. The order went: Wulf, Goggles, Stiv, Raven, then herself.
Stiv made a fist of his pointing right hand and thumped it against his chest. “Sweet city words might work on the girls, but you’re not gonna talk your way past me.”
Raven tossed back her head and groaned.
Wulf turned the lantern on Stiv. Safi noticed he was polite enough not to throw the light directly in his face. Then he dipped his chin until his long, black bangs fell over his eyes. “How do you suppose we settle this disagreement of ours, then?”
“It won’t be in any Anderan way,” Stiv said. “City kids are all about cheap tricks.” He cocked his head toward Raven. “I learned that much from this one—yeow!”
Stiv massaged his shoulder as Raven threatened a second punch. “Violent, too,” he croaked.
“Fine then,” said Wulf, coaxing out the rest of the Berrid boy’s thoughts. “You name the terms.”
Stiv swept back his matted brown hair and patted it down behind his head. He squinted at the darkness, and then pointed to the shadows. “Table.”
Wulf shone the lantern to reveal a table across the barn. Safi was surprised Stiv had seen it in the dark. Up close, it was little more than a slab of wood, long and narrow, flanked by a pair of equally crude benches. A thousand dark rings stained its surface. With no proper tavern, Safi suspected the men of the hamlet had spent many nights in the barn, hiding from their wives and families.
Safi and Raven tucked in first. Stiv followed after, taking a seat beside them at the edge of the bench. Wulf set the lantern down in the table’s center, then, using much of the chain’s slack, scooted in on the opposite side. He began sliding over to allow Goggles room, but Stiv held up his palm. “Goggles, you stand.”
Goggles’ bald head bobbed in acknowledgment.
“As I was saying,” Stiv said, showing Raven a careful glance, then looking back at Wulf. “I know you Anderans are full of tricks. From the lowest street rat, to King Tiberonius himself, there isn’t an honest soul in—”
“Oh, just get on with it, you halfwit!” Raven said, rapping her knuckles against the tabletop.
Stiv’s lips made a thin line. “We play a straight game. A game of strength.” He propped his elbow on the table and grinned. “Arm wrestling.”
Safi leaned forward to catch Wulf’s reaction. Though his face remained shrouded in darkness, she was certain the boy was smiling. But when he settled his elbow on the edge of the tabletop, and his face moved into the lanternlight, he wore an expression as somber as stone.
“We both right-handed?” asked Wulf.
“Seems so,” answered Stiv.
Safi felt a pinch on her thigh, and her knee jumped to bang the table’s underside. The boys turned to look. She felt warmth rising from her chest to her face.
“Excuse my friend here,” Raven said, taking the same pinching hand and wrapping her arm around Safi’s shoulders. She brought her lips close to her ear. Her breath smelled awful, but its heat put Safi in shivers.
“Watch closely,” Raven whispered. Quiet as she was, she sounded positively giddy. “Your new boyfriend’s about to teach Stiv a good lesson.”
Stiv made a show of rolling up his right shirtsleeve. First came his forearm, slim at the wrist, but thick at the elbow. Then came his bicep, a brawny slab of meat with no business on the arm of a thirteen-year old boy. Safi gaped at the sight. Well-fed as Wulf was, he didn’t have an arm like that.
Grinning, she pinched Raven back. The Anderan girl’s squirming legs didn’t go banging though. “Still sure your boyfriend won’t be able to take him?” She was close enough to feel Raven’s warming cheeks.
“Two out of three?” Wulf said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Stiv puffed up his chest and said, “A coward’s gambit! We play this with honor. A single round is enough.”
Wulf gave an exaggerated shrug, offering his hand. “If you say so.”
Beneath the table, Safi felt Raven’s legs dancing.
Stiv reached across the table to meet Wulf’s hand. Safi watched as the huge muscle flexed, relaxed, flexed… It was somewhat mesmerizing.
Raven set her hands flat on the table and leaned forward. “Go on my say so?”
Stiv and Wulf nodded.
Raven raised a fist to her mouth and cleared her throat. “Ready your horses, ready your steeds. Don’t move an inch without my heed. You’ll keep it still until my say, no matter if it takes all day. If—”
“Just go already!” Safi hissed. Her legs could hardly keep still either.
Raven pursed her lips at Safi. Then she spun towards the boys and banged her hand once on the tabletop. “Go!”
Stiv’s big muscle flickered to life, and Wulf’s fist began inching backwards. It made sense. The Berrid boy was country-raised. Safi grew up around the type. “Strong of arm to work the farm,” folks always said, and “A son’s the only animal more dependable than a horse.” Wulf was a city boy, but whatever a city boy did, she doubted it could grant him the strength of a farm child.
Safi leaned forward to get a closer look.
Wulf was struggling, but that wasn’t to say he looked worried. Furrowing his brow, his chest began to rise as he drew a deep breath. Then, like a sudden change of wind, Stiv’s powerful arm stopped.
Safi gawked as their hands began moving the opposite direction. It didn’t make a lick of sense. She would have sooner expected a river to change its current, or a tree to throw its roots at the sky.
Stiv, too, stared in astonishment as their hands returned to the starting position. Somehow in the struggle, his calloused farm boy fingers had become squished inside Wulf’s fist.
Stiv’s hand began moving backwards, and the boy let loose a groan. Veins bulged in his neck, and his big arm pulsed and twitched, but there was no stopping Wulf’s steady pressure.
With a final grunt on Wulf’s part, the back of Stiv’s fist went slamming into the table.
Except it d
idn’t.
They were sitting by the edge, and there was no table left to stop them.
Stiv spun out of his seat and crashed into Goggles, who flew backwards, dragging Wulf and the girls with him. Safi watched in horror as the lantern tipped on its rim, threatening to spill hot oil all over the table, and the barn, and themselves.
But in that slice of a second, Raven flicked out her hand and stopped the lantern from toppling over.
Safi gasped at the display, then tumbled along with Raven onto the filthy barn floor. Having become tangled, the girls shared an embarrassed look as they pulled themselves apart. Safi made no attempt to smooth things over with words. She was grateful that Raven didn’t, either.
Wulf stood first, panting. He slapped his thighs clean before offering Stiv a hand. “We good, then?”
Safi watched the Anderan boy’s rising chest. She could tell his heavy breathing wasn’t entirely genuine.
“Yeah,” Stiv said, taking Wulf’s hand and pulling himself to his feet. “We’re good.” He rolled his shoulder and winced. “You’ve got a hell of an arm. For a city boy.”
“Thanks,” Wulf said. As he reached for the lantern, he slipped Safi a knowing smile. “Let’s get to exploring.”
8
Breaking Bread
They discovered a barrel full of rusted shovels and hoes, none of which could dent the thick wood of the barn walls, let alone break a chain of iron. They uncovered an old pull wagon, built to haul heavy loads, and Raven cursed their luck, for not a wheel remained on its wooden frame. They found the source of that terrible smell and learned that the farmers had not been entirely thorough when cleaning out the barn animals.
And as they searched, Safi stubbed her foot so hard that she split the sole from her shoe. “Titans almighty,” she muttered, looking down at her exposed toes. At her feet lay a piece of flat metal that spanned the length of a horse. A word followed its crescent shape. Stiv cleared the dirt with his shoe while Wulf shone the lantern, revealing its bronze lettering.
