by John Brown
Moments later Talen heard a loud crash and the clank of the cowbell he’d attached to the snare.
“Idiot!” Ke cursed. He stormed around the side of the barn holding the cowbell in one hand, the lamp out in front of him with the other.
“What’s that?” asked Da.
Talen turned.
Da stood there in his riding clothes and boots.
Ke motioned behind him in anger. “Around the side of the barn. You’ll see. I’m going to fetch Iron Boy.”
Two watchmen stood at the well drawing water. Another three stood by the door.
Da addressed them all. “There’s fish hanging in the shed. Help yourself.”
He motioned for Talen to follow then walked around the side of the barn and stopped. He looked up and saw the rope and noose hanging limply from the pulley. “You know, it’s one thing to give a man a beating. It’s quite another to kill him. Then you’ve got blood debt and revenge and families to deal with.”
“It wasn’t for the hunters,” said Talen. “You weren’t going to believe me until I had one of the hatchlings swinging in the yard.”
“Right,” said Da. He sighed. “What if River had come here in the morning to fetch a few potatoes, sleep still in her eyes?”
“I’d thought of that,” said Talen.
“No,” said Da. “You hadn’t. But I give you credit. It’s a good idea, poorly executed-you don’t hide things like this from your fellow defenders-but a good idea nevertheless. Still, you’re not going to reset this. Not tonight.”
He waited for Talen’s reply.
Talen had put the others in danger. “No,” said Talen. “I will not.”
Talen watched Da ride off into the darkness with the men. When they disappeared into the moon shadows of the forest, Talen wondered: Da was formidable, so what would they do now if the armsmen returned? Or the hatchling worked some evil?
They restrung the alarm line and went back into the house. Ke pointed at Talen. “Since you’re so eager to catch something, I think I’ll let you take the next watch. In fact, you and Nettle can have the next two.” Then he yawned and retreated to his room.
River said, “The water’s hot. I suggest you make a cup of night-watch tea.”
Talen stood their strung bows against the wall and opened the shutter to the window. He scanned the yard. Nothing, just the buildings and deep moon shadows. Of course, the shadows could hide anything.
He turned and retrieved the kettle from the hot coals in the hearth and made a cup of tea for Nettle. His cousin would take the first part of the watch. Talen didn’t think he would be able to fall back asleep, but unrolled his blanket on the floor by the table and lay down on it anyway.
While the tea cooled, Nettle rummaged through the cupboards. He soon found a thick heel of two-day-old bread upon which he spread salted lard. He said around his mouthful of old bread, “I don’t know who to worry about more-hunters or hatchlings. I’m beginning to think we should have laid half a dozen snares.”
“Queen’s out there now. She and the warning line will have to do. Besides, we still have our bows,” said Talen, although he didn’t know how much good they’d do. Nettle placed himself to look out the window, and soon Talen felt himself drift to sleep.
Sometime in the dark morning, Nettle nudged him awake.
“Did you see anything?” asked Talen.
“A family of skunks,” said Nettle. He yawned. “Came right up to the window, but they must have gotten a whiff of you, because they turned tail and ran.”
“Funny,” said Talen.
“But true,” said Nettle.
Talen rose and put the kettle back over the coals. Before his tea had finished steeping, Nettle lay asleep.
Talen waited at the window into the small hours of the morning. Twice he heard something and brought his bow up to the ready. But nothing materialized. Nothing moved but the night shadows as the moon made its way to the western horizon.
He thought about the upcoming Festival of Gifts, where the people celebrated the end of the fall harvest and all the gifts of the Creators. There would be no Divine bestowing gifts of healing and Fire. But that would not stop the merchants and entertainments.
He had planned on going and buying a few sweets and being content to look at everything else. But now he sat listing out in his mind what a hero and his reward might buy. He was going to surprise everyone. Nobody seemed to think he would amount to much of anything. But what would they say when he hog-tied the hatchlings and carted them into Whitecliff?
He waited and watched and waited and began to tire of waiting. A pressure began to build in his bowels. He stood, tried various positions to hold it, but soon he realized that if he didn’t get to the privy immediately, he was going to soil his pants.
Lords and lice, he thought. There was an old chamber pot in the back room, but he couldn’t imagine the ribbing he’d get from Ke when he found out he’d been scared to go out. Besides, there was nothing in the yard.
He nudged Nettle, but Nettle only rolled over to his other side. Talen didn’t want to go outside. While the moon cast enough light to see, the woods were dark. But he could not wait. He opened the door, scanned the yard and shadows. Truly, nothing was there, so he slipped out the door with his bow and a clutch of arrows and ran to the privy.
As he went about his business, he began to think of the story of the Sleth woman cutting people up and curing them like hog meat.
The hackles rose on the back of Talen’s neck. Here he was, foolish enough to go out in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping. It was possible the hatchlings had seen him go in and were waiting in the dark shadow of the house to steal his Fire.
It was a stupid idea. But he couldn’t shake it.
But he had his bow. Besides, they hadn’t attacked him earlier. Of course, that was during the day. It might be that at such times their power was on the wane.
Talen finished his business but then decided to wait and listen and peer through a knothole about a foot from the bottom of the door. He spent what seemed at least half an hour at it. He held his breath and closed his eyes to hear better, but there was nothing there.
He could stay the whole night in the privy if he had to. But then he thought of Ke. He’d laugh until he cried, and that thought put Talen on his feet. He wasn’t going to give Ke or Da that satisfaction.
Talen reached for the door and heard the creak of the well crank.
He paused, and held his breath. Surely, it was a floorboard underneath him.
But he heard it again. Talen crouched at the knothole again and saw two figures at the well. The larger one was cranking the bucket up ever so slowly. It was a girl or young woman about his size. He could see her braid. The smaller one was a boy. He just stood there holding what looked like a goat’s bladder.
Talen watched the girl bring up the bucket and fill the goat’s bladder. When they had plugged up the mouth of it, the girl turned toward the privy and began walking. The boy followed her without a word. And then he reached out, flailed a bit, and grabbed the back of her tunic.
Blind. He was blind.
One part of him felt the satisfaction of being right. The other shrunk in dread. The hatchlings were here.
There was no way Talen could get to the house now. If he were a coward, he might lift some of the loose boards off the seat and jump down into the cesspit. But they would hear him prying the boards. They would know to look down there. After all, it wasn’t so uncommon for people to string a rope from underneath the privy bench to hang their valuables above the cess below. He thought of how Nettle and the others would talk about how he’d died while crapping, his pants down, shivering on the stink throne with fright, and the image of it snapped him out of his fear.
What was he thinking? This was his opportunity. Talen wouldn’t be able to trap the hatchlings and take them in alive. So what? He had his bow. He had four arrows. Da had taught him well.
He would take them now, despite the fa
ct that he couldn’t hear anything but his heart banging in his ears.
He didn’t dare miss. He’d have one shot. If it flew wide of the mark, they’d be on him. But if he made the first count, they’d hesitate just long enough to let him nock a second. A second arrow that he could send into one of their hearts.
That meant he had to wait until they were closer.
Talen bent and looked out the knothole again. It was definitely a girl and a boy. These were the hatchlings. He gauged the distance between them and the privy. He stood and slowly lifted away the bar that secured the door. Then he picked up his bow and nocked the first arrow. He reminded himself that he was an expert shot. He might not pull a bow as strong as Ke’s, but what he did pull was deadly enough for a girl and a boy.
He did not have enough space to draw his bow in the privy. He didn’t want to wait for them to open the door on him anyway. That would be far too close. So he’d have to kick the door open, then draw.
But he didn’t need to deliver a mortal shot the first time. He only needed to wound and surprise. Once he’d done that, he could take a bit more time aiming the second arrow.
This was not going to be hard. He could do this.
Talen took one more breath. Now was the time. They should only be a few paces away.
He kicked the door with all his might, but it banged off of something and swung back at him.
Someone grunted.
Lords, he’d kicked it into one of them.
The shock of his miscalculation panicked him. He tried to draw his arrow and step back, but the privy bench got in the way and he fell onto the wall.
He expected the door to fly open and one of them to rush him with claw and fang. But the door just hung ajar.
He heard the padding of feet running away, and felt relief. Then he realized they were running. They were getting away.
He kicked the door again, and this time it flew wide and banged against the outside of the privy.
The girl ran, holding the boy’s hand. They ran like the wind toward the old house and the woods.
He took a step forward and drew the string to his chin. Calm, he had to be calm. The string was locked behind his thumb ring. He had practiced this thousands of times. There were days when Da had demanded he draw and release his bow five hundred times. He had used up eight bows over the years, drawing, then relaxing the position of his thumb ever so slightly so that the string might jump away.
The precise moment of the perfect release, he had learned, would always come as a small surprise.
The string hummed and Talen watched the arrow fly. It snicked away into the dark, a perfect shot. But the hatchlings darted left toward the old house just as the arrow flew from his hand, and Talen’s first shot missed.
He strung the second arrow. “Ware!” Talen shouted. “Ware!” He yelled again, and saw Nettle throw open the door just about the same time the creatures disappeared behind the old house.
Talen ran to get a clear view of the open space between the old house and the woods. The thing would not escape this time. But when he got a view of the open space, he saw nothing.
Nettle came stumbling out with his bow in one hand and a half-lit torch in the other.
“They’re here!” said Talen. “I’ve seen them with my own eyes. They’re behind the old house.”
He and Nettle cautiously approached the old house. It was the first place his father and mother had built. Talen had slept in it now and again until a snake had come wiggling through the ceiling one night to land on him. Such were the hazards of sod roofs. Now it was only used to store things and shelter the dogs who had dug their warren underneath the old floorboards.
Talen and Nettle split apart, giving the house a wide enough berth, positioning themselves so that each covered two of the house’s four walls.
“Nothing,” said Nettle.
Where could they have gone? Talen realized he’d given the creature the opportunity to slip in the front door of the house both this and the time before.
He swung his bow and pointed it at the door.
“Open it,” said Talen to Nettle.
River called out from the house. “Talen? What’s going on?”
“We’ve got them in the old house!” he yelled back.
Talen nodded at the door. “Go on. Here’s something real. Open it.”
Nettle looked at the door. “Right,” he said. “Cover me.” Then he grabbed the handle, whipped the door open, and stepped back.
Talen almost released his shaft. But he was happy he didn’t waste the arrow, for nobody rushed out.
“There’s no use hiding,” said Nettle. “Come out where we can see you.”
Nothing moved.
“Queen,” Talen called, hoping that she hadn’t already been killed by the creatures.
A few moments passed, then Queen emerged out of the dog warren.
All this time in the warren, Talen thought, and not one bark. Something was very wrong. It was as if the dogs were deaf and blind.
“Stu, girl!” Talen said to Queen and pointed at the open door. “Stu!”
Queen looked at the house and sniffed, but then she turned away and came to him, wagging her tail.
“Are you sure it went in here?” asked Nettle.
By this time both Ke and River had arrived, Ke with nothing but his underclothes on. “What are you hollering about?”
“We’ve got ourselves a hatchling,” said Nettle.
“Two,” said Talen.
“Where?”
Talen pointed at the open door, and, to his horror, Ke walked right in.
“There’s nothing in here,” said Ke. “Goh, you’re an idiot.”
But Talen had seen them. Right here. Where else could they be? Then he looked at the dog warren and everything made sense.
“They’re underneath,” he said to Nettle. “With the dogs!”
Talen ran to the hole where the side of the house met the ground and pointed his arrow into the blackness.
“Bring the torch.”
“No,” said Ke.
But Nettle paid him no mind. Talen took the torch and knelt to the side of the hole. He saw that the hole had been widened. He should have seen it before, but who would have thought they were down there? He stuck the torch down as far as he dared and quickly pulled it back out.
It was enough. What he saw with the brief illumination was a leg that quickly drew itself back into the shadow. Talen dropped the torch and scrambled back.
“They’re down there,” he said. “They’ve subverted the dogs.” He drew his bow and pointed it at the mouth of the hole.
“Put that down,” said Ke.
“You can’t doubt me now,” said Talen.
“River,” said Ke and motioned at the mouth of dog warren with his head.
River calmly walked to the side of the house and knelt by the dog warren.
“Stop!” Talen warned. “Get away!”
Ke’s hands closed around the bow. “Give me the bow, and shut up.”
“Didn’t you see the leg?”
Ke yanked the bow from his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Get them,” Ke said.
Talen watched in horror as River’s head and torso disappeared into the blackness of the hole. He expected to hear her cry out or be pulled entirely in. But after a few moments, she backed out and extended her hand to help a girl and then a smaller boy out. The girl had long black hair and a scar on her cheek. She appeared to be about Talen’s age, maybe a bit older. The boy stared off at nothing.
The girl looked at him with no fear. She looked at him like a bird might a bug. Talen noticed she was wearing River’s trousers all rolled up on the leg.
“Douse that torch,” said Ke. And when Nettle didn’t move, Ke snatched it and ground its flame out in the dirt.
“What is this?” asked Talen.
“Will you shut up,” hissed Ke. He studied the woods.
And then Talen heard the v
oices of men in the distance. Or at least he thought he had.
“Get inside,” whispered Ke. “Now!”
Talen looked at his brother and sister. They were harboring Sleth. They were risking the anger of the Nine Clans and putting all of their lives in danger.
When Talen didn’t move, Ke handed the bow to River. He grabbed Talen by the nape of the neck with one hand and the back of his trousers by the other. Talen struggled, but Ke’s grip was like iron, and he marched Talen back into the house.
Talen watched in dismay as the girl hatchling led her brother to the hearth. When they were all in, River quietly barred the door and shuttered the window. She faced Ke. “I told Da it would never work.”
Someone called out in the woods.
River motioned for everyone to be still.
Ke turned to Talen. “If you’ve brought a pack of idiot hunters down on us,” he whispered, “I’m going to kill you.”
“Kill me?” said Talen. “Kill me? You two and Da, it appears, have already seen to that.”
“Shush,” said River.
They waited and listened. Queen barked twice and then fell still. Talen strained to hear what was going on outside, but heard nothing. Of course, that didn’t mean a pack of hunters were not moving now to surround the yard or running off to alert the bailiff.
After what seemed like hours, River opened the shutters enough to peer out. A few moments later she closed them again. “Queen’s right in front of the door. She would have barked if someone were out there. I think we’re safe.”
“She didn’t bark at these two,” said Talen. “The dog’s gone traitor.”
River left the window and moved to the girl’s side. She stroked the girl’s hair like one might a niece or sister. “Talen, this is Sugar.”
She put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. His hair shot up like a wildman’s. “And this is her blind brother, Legs.”
15
PURITY
Argoth did not want one of the guards on the walls of the Shoka fortress, jittery from the attacks at the village of Plum, to mistake Hogan for the enemy and kill him. The guards had their orders, but it was night and the moon was only half full. And Hogan was Koramite. So Argoth waited atop the barbican, watching the roads for his friend.
