by C. Greenwood
I attached myself to the thin stream of outlaws moving off through the trees. We made up a somber party on our short walk through the forest until we came to a tight clearing not far from camp. Here we would farewell our dead. It must have been difficult work for the men digging graves in the frozen earth, and evidence remained of the fires they had built during the night to soften the ground for digging. The graves lined up before us were narrow and shallow.
I wished Terrac were present to speak a few words over the dead, a service he had performed for us in the old days. But since he wasn’t, the burial was conducted in stony silence and with no ceremony, the stillness disrupted only by coughing and the stamping of feet as the gathering tried to warm themselves. No one drifted away until the last body had been settled into the ground, and I and several others had taken up shovels to fill in the trenches.
When the job was done and I found myself finally alone, I set aside my broken-handled shovel and squatted on the ground to catch my breath. Counting the sixteen graves before me, I was overcome with regret that I could do no better by my outlaw brethren than an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere. I wished every corpse had been bathed and cleanly dressed before the burial and laid to rest with the proper respect. But out here such gestures weren’t an option.
I became aware of Dradac’s presence as he joined me.
“We lost Nib,” I muttered to him.
“I saw. And Kinsley also… He died slow of a gut wound. He wasn’t one of the circle, and I never even liked him, but I knew him for years. He was with us from the beginning. You remember. Those days when we were just a little band of highway thieves following under Rideon the Red Hand?”
I nodded.
“Seirdric is under the earth now too,” he continued, “but I suppose you noted him among the dead. Also Illsman. He took a hammer blow to his skull that should have shattered mine. Stepped clear into its path as it came at me.”
His voice hoarsened. “Why’d he do that, do you think? I never counted him a friend. If anything, we were closer to enemies. I just wish I knew what made him do it. You know?”
I cleared my throat. “I can’t tell you that. The man feared nothing so long as I knew him. He lived hard, and I suppose in the end…” I had been going to say in the end he had got what was coming to him, but suddenly that seemed wrong.
I raked a hand through my hair and asked the question that had been on my mind all night. “Why did this attack come now? The Skeltai have never troubled the outlaws before. Do you suppose they were just looking for more victims and stumbled over us?”
He gave me a look. “What do you believe?”
I ground a pebble beneath my boot, stalling for time, before giving in and admitted the truth. “I think they came looking for us. The sentries said they just poured in out of nowhere, as if they knew where our lookouts would be posted and how to avoid them. They must have been watching us for a long time.”
“Is it because of the circle then? Are they punishing us for our interference?”
I nodded woodenly, knowing what it meant. This attack was my fault. I had disregarded Rideon’s orders and started the circle, and now the entire band had paid the price.
Dradac cut in on my bitter thoughts. “It’s no use laying blame. All we can do now is move on from here and lay our plans with better care.”
He sighed. “I’ll tell you what I’d like to know more than anything, and that’s how they found us in the first place. If the Fists can’t find us and even the Praetor has never managed to discover the identities of anyone in the circle, how is it the Skeltai can discover so much from so far away? They must been transporting their people in and out of Dimming constantly and you know what that means. For every one of their scouts we’ve seen sniffing around the forest and the woods villages, they’ve half a dozen more we never get a look at. They could be watching us right now, and we’d never know it.”
“I suspect it’s worse than that,” I said. “They’re not sending people here to spy on us; I believe they’ve found some way to do that from where they are.”
“You mean they’re opening up small portals like windows all over the forest?”
“I don’t know. Not quite like that, I don’t think. Holding those portals open takes a lot of magic, and I doubt they’d waste that much strength.”
He looked at me oddly, and I realized I was exhibiting too much knowledge for someone who was supposed to be as ignorant of magic as the next fellow, so I rushed to add, “I mean, I imagine that’s how these things work. But then who knows what the savages are capable of?”
He shifted as if uncomfortable, and I wondered if he knew I was lying to him.
“Well,” he said after an awkward pause, “One thing is sure. We can’t withstand another attack like this one. Luck was with us this time, but we can’t count on that again. What’ll we do if there’s another attack?”
I shook my head miserably.
“Rot you!” he snapped suddenly. “You’re our leader. You must give us orders!”
“I’m only Ilan,” I told him sharply. “Hound or Little Dog as you’ve called me most of my life. I’m just as confused and frightened as everybody else right now. No secret circle or cursed magical bow has changed that.”
There was a silence after my words, and I realized it was the first time I had admitted to anybody but Hadrian that the bow was more than mere wood and string. There was no taking back my words, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I was weary of keeping secrets. Lately it seemed like the biggest ones in my life had to be kept even from the people I cared about most. I thought briefly of Terrac and wondered what his reaction would have been if I’d ever confessed to him that I had been born with magical talents.
Dradac cleared his throat, and the sound brought me back to the present. I could sense his confusion and knew the significance of my admission hadn’t been lost on him. I braced myself for whatever was coming and promised myself I wouldn’t even try to wiggle my way around his questions. He had a right to know.
But to my surprise, the words that came from his mouth had nothing to do with magic or the bow. “Just tell me what to do,” he said earnestly. “Command any of us in the circle, and we’ll follow you.”
I was astounded. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I told you I have an enchanted bow! Don’t you have questions about that?”
He smiled slightly. “Do you think I didn’t know the moment I saw that bow there was something powerful about it? You think I’ve failed to note the changes in you since you took it up? Even the Skeltai scout knew there was something special in you and in the bow you carry. The others know it too, and not just members of the circle. Everyone was talking after last night’s battle of the skill you fought with, and how you never took a scratch. I even heard Kinsley say just before he died that it was you who turned the tide in our favor.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. But inwardly I wondered. Kinsley had never particularly liked me. Why should he praise me with his dying breath if there was no truth to it?
Dradac went on, “Call it what you want, but I saw you fight last night and watched you through all the weeks leading up to this, as you formed the circle to challenge the savages when no one else dared. I’ve seen you grow up before my eyes overnight, and I can tell you change that sudden isn’t natural. The truth is you haven’t been the same person since you found that bow. You might have started out as Rideon’s Hound or Brig’s Little Dog but you aren’t either anymore.”
His words shook me. Hadn’t Hadrian tried to tell me the same thing, tried to warn me against the bow’s influence? Could both these men who knew me so well be wrong in their assessment? I wanted desperately to think so, wanted to deny anything was different. But deep in a cloudy corner of my mind a sibilant whisper stirred to life. I tried to silence it, but it refused to leave me alone inside my head. The bow wanted its presence and its power to be recognized. Inwardly I gave in.
Yes, I know. You are the bow. Y
ou are the barra-banac, and you want everyone to know it. Well, we all know your power now, don’t we? Even I.
Suddenly I felt like laughing, but it would have been a nervous, wild laughter. I held my breath until the desire passed.
Dradac unwittingly came to my aid, as he interrupted my thoughts. “You’re cold and weary. There will be time to talk of these things later, if you choose. Or not. I won’t press you or speak of this before others. Come now, let me take you back to camp where you can rest.”
I said, “We both know there will be no resting for some time to come. There are wounded to be looked after and new perimeters to be set up. The Hand will not want to be surprised again.”
He nodded agreement, and we both helped the other up. Together we trudged back to camp.
Chapter Eleven
We returned to find things in a state of disorder. Weapons and belongings were being shifted out the mouth of the cave, and the wounded I had left inside were now being carried out and settled on the frozen ground.
I snagged the arm of a passerby. “What’s happening? Why are these wounded men bring dragged out into the cold?”
The stout man shrugged. “The Hand’s orders. He wants us all out of Boulder’s Cradle by nightfall.”
Dradac stepped in. “Where does he mean us to go?”
The other outlaw shrugged. “Don’t know, Dradac. Scouts is out now looking for suitable shelter. The Hands says it’s no good staying in a place what’s known to our enemies. There’s nothing to stop them coming back.”
“But these men cannot be moved,” I protested. “Many are seriously wounded and the trip would finish them. We’ll see enough losses over the coming days as it is.”
The outlaw raised a surprised brow at my vehemence, and I realized I was coming dangerously close to criticizing Rideon’s orders.
As if his thoughts followed the same vein, Dradac nudged me sharply.
I let the man go back to his work but told Dradac, “I’ve got to speak to Rideon. He’s wrong about all of this. If the Skeltai are determined to find us, they have the means to search us out anywhere. We would be better off standing out ground here than running while dragging injured men with us.”
Dradac frowned. “You be careful, Ilan. You can’t talk to the Hand like you do everyone else. He’s still the captain of the band, and he’s got a fine temper besides. Remember the time he gave you and the priest boy that walloping a couple years back?”
I did.
“I’m as acquainted with Rideon’s famous temper as you are,” I said, “but somebody’s got to persuade him to see reason. If he’d done something about the Skeltai invaders when the raids first began, we might have driven them out before it came to this. I’m not about to stand silent now and let his short-sightedness cost us again.”
I clambered onto an overturned log in the center of camp and called out, “Hold on, everyone.”
No one obeyed so I raised my voice. “I said hold! We aren’t moving anywhere, so drag those provisions back inside.”
That got their attention. The activity in the clearing died down and someone called out, “What’s going on? Has the Hand changed his mind?”
“Not yet,” I admitted. “But I think he’s going to reconsider his orders once I’ve spoken with him.”
“Why? What’s to reconsider?” another outlaw asked. “Rideon says we should be gone before the raiders return.”
I said, “I don’t think they’re coming back. They could have wiped us out last night if that had been their intention. I know you’ve all heard by now about the attacks on the surrounding woods settlements. The raiders usually come in greater numbers. I know. I was at Hammond’s Bend and saw the destruction there. Do you think our attackers couldn’t have wreaked the same damage on us?”
Having committed myself this far, I launched into the story of how a few of us had discovered the origins of the strange invaders. I carefully left out references to the existence of the circle, since that secret wasn’t mine to tell. But I explained as much as I knew of the Skelatai’s magic and of how their shamans used it to create portals that let their warriors out wherever they wished. I finished with my theory that last night’s attack had been intended as a warning to us not to interfere in the fate of the woods villages
“Interfere?” someone asked. “Why should they suspect us of that?”
I hesitated. How much was I prepared to reveal? I wanted to look to Dradac for reassurance before speaking for him or the others in the circle but feared even that one glance would be too revealing, so I kept my eyes carefully averted. Instead I looked out at the dozens of faces turned toward me and asked myself if they were ready. Ready to join the fight against the Skeltai, even if it cost them their lives. The silent voice whispered at the back of my mind, but I ignored it. I had no time for distractions now.
I opened my mouth, prepared to confess all, but before I could get the words out, a familiar voice spoke up.
“A good question. Why indeed should anyone suspect us of interference?”
I felt my stomach clench. Even after all these years Rideon could still make me squirm in my boots.
“You don’t answer, Hound,” Rideon continued softly. Reasonably. “Enlighten us. How is it you’re so knowledgeable about these invaders? How can you be certain they won’t strike at us again. More importantly, what have you and your little circle of friends been doing in secret to bring their wrath down on us?”
As he stepped out the mouth of the cave and into view, I saw that his lean face was as cool and expressionless as ever, except for a slight tightening around the mouth and a dangerous glint in his eyes. How much did he know?
He seemed not to expect an immediate reply from me. His gaze moved over Dradac at my side and flickered over the audience, as if searching out others likely to support me. When his attention returned to me, he smiled, a baring of teeth that was neither friendly nor reassuring.
“Why such an uneasy face, Hound? Are you wondering what I know?”
My stomach twisted in knots, and I realized I had only a very short time to set things right before events got out of hand.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, Rideon,” I said, “but I promise none of it is as it seems.”
“None of what? You mean the secret circle you and your friends formed against my orders? Those moonlight meetings at Horse Head Rock, where you and your treacherous followers gather to plot against me? Or the whispering and scheming behind my back to subtly undermine my authority? Are these the things you speak of?”
He cocked his head to one side and watched me like a hawk eyeing something he meant to devour.
I struggled to keep my face expressionless as I worked out how I should respond.
Seeming to take my prolonged silence as an admission of guilt, he said, “If you fear by answering you will further incriminate yourself, allow me to put your mind to rest. Let me answer the one question that is no doubt burning in your mind. How much, how much? Isn’t that what you’re eager to know? How far my knowledge extends?”
His look was triumphant as he declared, “I know all! I’ve had your clandestine rebel meetings observed from the beginning, have watched your every careful move and laughed at your ignorance. I know the names of your contacts and of your dealings with the Praetor. I even know how long you’ve been in his pay.”
At this disclosure, a ripple of angry exclamations spread through the listening outlaws. I sensed their anger and distrust turning against me.
I tried to stop it.
“My dealings with the Praetor had nothing to do with you or the band, Rideon. I’ve remained loyal to you, even if I haven’t always agreed with your decisions.”
I was no longer speaking for my captain’s benefit but for that of my outlaw brethren. I turned to them now, saying, “Many of you have known me since I was a child. I was with you from the beginning. Can you believe I would sell you to the Praetor and his Fists for a handful of coins? You saw what the Fists did
to Brig. Can anyone believe after that I would ever be persuaded to spy for the Praetor?”
I saw looks of doubt flit across a few faces and didn’t need my talent to know I was swaying some.
But Rideon wasn’t among them. Arms folded across his chest, he shook his head at my defense. “Your disloyalty after Brig only shows you for the traitorous cur you are. What was the plan? Hand us over to the Praetor in exchange for a pardon and a hefty reward?”
“If that’s what I had in mind I could’ve done it long ago,” I pointed out.
He didn’t seem to hear. “I regret wasting my time or efforts in the raising of you,” he said. “I saw something in you when you were small. I thought it was promise, but now I realize I was mistaken.”
He looked away from me then, as if I had suddenly become invisible, and directed his attention instead at the others gathered around. “What,” he asked them, “is the penalty for treachery?”
When no one spoke he answered himself. “The punishment is death.”
With a sense of unreality, I watched him unsheathe his black-bladed sword.
My hands moved to the knives tucked inside my sleeves but I never reached them, as I was suddenly gripped from behind and dragged backward. I struggled until I recognized the arms that held me.
“Be still,” Dradac whispered sharply in my ear. “If you fight him you won’t walk away.”
He raised his voice. “I mean no disloyalty, Rideon. There isn’t a man here who wouldn’t die for you. But many of us would fight to defend Ilan. She’s one of us.”
“He’s right, Hand,” someone else spoke up. “Surely we’ve seen enough of our own slaughtered.”
Rideon glared at the speaker. “I mark you for this betrayal, Javen. I know you for one of her circle.”
“Then mark me as well.”
There was a shift in the crowd as Ada stepped forward. Kipp and another man followed and suddenly all the members of the circle were crowding forward to join me, as well as some others who hadn’t been part of our cause.
