Manst wiped his eyes after I was done. “Heh. You’re right, Kvothe. I’m better off knowing that one. Besides,” He shot a look at Kete where she sat across the fire, “It’s an honest song. Women can’t keep their hands off a piper.”
Kete snorted derisively and turned away.
Alleg laughed and pushed more ale on me. I accepted, and we talked of small things until Anne announced the stew was done. Everyone fell to, breaking the silence only to complement Anne on her cooking.
“Honestly, Anne,” Alleg pleaded after his second bowl. “Tell me. Did you lift a little pepper back in Levinshir?” Anne looked pleased at all the praise, but didn’t say anything.
As we were eating, I asked Alleg, “Have times been good for you and yours?”
“Oh certainly,” he said between mouthfuls. “Three days ago Levinshir was especially good to us.” He winked. “You’ll see how good later.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“In fact,” he leaned forward conspiratorially. “We’ve done so well that I feel quite generous. I’d like to offer you anything you’d like. Anything at all. It’s yours already of course, being family and all. But still, ask anything of us and it is yours.”
He leaned closer and made a loud stage whisper, “I want you to know that this is a blatant attempt to bribe you into staying on with us. We would make a thick purse off that voice of yours.”
“Not to mention the songs he could teach us,” Gaskin chimed in.
Alleg gave a mock snarl, “Don’t help him bargain, boy. I have the feeling this is going to be hard enough as it is.”
I gave it a little thought. “I suppose I could stay . . . ” I let myself trail off uncertainly.
Alleg gave a knowing smile. “But . . . ”
“But I would ask for three things.”
“Hmmmm, three things.” He looked me up and down. “Just like in one of the stories.”
“It only seems right,” I urged.
He gave a hesitant nod. “I suppose it does. And how long would you travel with us?”
“Until no one objects to my leaving.”
“Does anyone have any problem with this?” Alleg looked around.
“What if he asks for one of the wagons?” Tim asked. His voice startled me, harsh and rasping, like a two bricks grating together.
“It won’t matter, as he’ll be traveling with us,” Alleg argued. “They belong to all of us anyway, and he’ll be staying with us for as long as we like.” He winked at me. “And not one minute more.”
There were no more objections. Alleg and I shook hands on it, and there was a small cheer.
Gaskin held up his glass, “To Kvothe and his songs. I have a feeling he will be worth whatever he costs us.”
Everyone drank, and I held up my own glass, “I swear on my mother’s milk, none of you will ever make a better deal than the one you made with me tonight.” This evoked more enthusiastic cheer and everyone drank again.
Wiping his mouth, Alleg looked me in the eye. “So, what is the first thing you want from us?”
I lowered my head, “It’s a little thing really. But I lost my tent when I was chased out of a town a couple weeks ago. I could use a new one.”
Alleg smiled and waved his glass like a king granting a boon. “Certainly, you’ll have mine, piled with furs and blankets a foot deep.” He made a gesture over the fire to where Fren and Josh sat. “Go set it up for him.”
“That’s all right,” I protested. “I can manage it myself.”
“Hush, it’s good for them. Makes them feel useful. Speaking of which,” he made another gesture at Tim, “Bring them out, would you?”
Tim stood and pressed a hand to his stomach, “I’ll do it in a quick minute.” He turned to walk off into the woods. “I don’t feel very good.”
“That’s what you get for eatin’ like you’re at a trough!” Otto called after him. Then he turned back to the rest of us. “Someday he’ll realize he can’t eat more’n me and not feel sick afterward.”
“Since Tim’s busy painting a tree, I’ll go get them,” Manst said with thinly veiled eagerness.
“I’m on guard tonight,” Otto said. “I’ll go get ’em.”
“I’ll get them,” Alleg said firmly, and stared the other two back into their seats. He walked behind the wagon on my left.
Josh and Fren came out of the other wagon with a tent, ropes, and stakes. “Where do you want it?” Josh asked.
“That’s not a question you usually have to ask a man, is it, Josh?” Fren joked, nudging his friend with an elbow.
“I tend to snore,” I warned them. “You’ll want me away from everyone else.” I pointed. “Over between those two trees would be fine.”
“I mean, with a man, you normally know where they want it, don’t you, Josh?” Fren continued as they wandered off in the direction that I had pointed and began to string up the tent.
Alleg returned a minute later with a pair of lovely young girls. One had a lean body and face, with straight, black hair cut short like a boy’s. The other was more generously rounded with curling golden hair. They both had hopeless expressions. They both looked to be about sixteen.
“Meet Krin and Ell.” Alleg smiled. “They are one of the ways in which Levinshir was generous to us. Tonight, one of them will be keeping you warm. My gift to you, as the new member in our family.” He made a show of looking them over. “Which one would you like?”
I looked from one to the other. “That’s a hard choice. Let me think on it a little while.”
Alleg sat them down near the edge of the fire and put a bowl of stew in each of their hands. The girl with the golden hair, Ell, ate woodenly for a few bites, then slowed to a stop like a toy winding down. Her eyes looked almost blind, as if she were watching something none of us could see. Krin’s eyes, on the other hand, were focused fiercely into the fire. She sat stiffly with her bowl in her lap.
“Girls,” Alleg chided. “Don’t you know that things will get better as soon as you start cooperating?” Ell took another slow bite, then stopped. Krin stared stiffly into the fire.
Alleg sighed and knelt beside them. “Girls, it is time to eat. You’re going to eat, aren’t you?” His expression was calm but his tone was hard and flat. The response was the same as before. One slow bite. One stiff rebellion.
Gritting his teeth, Alleg took the dark haired girl firmly by the chin.
“Don’t,” I urged. “They’ll eat when they get hungry enough.” Alleg looked up at me curiously. “I know what I’m talking about,” I reassured him. “Give them something to drink instead.”
Alleg looked for a moment as if he might continue anyway, then shrugged and let go of Krin’s jaw. “We’ll try it your way. I’m sick of force-feeding this one. Let her starve if she wants.” He left, and returned with a clay cup for each of them, and set it in their unresisting hands.
“Water?” I asked.
“Ale,” he said. “It’ll be better for them if they aren’t eating.”
I stifled my protest. Ell drank in the same vacant manner in which she had eaten. Krin moved her eyes from the fire to the cup, to me. I felt an almost physical shock seeing her resemblance to Denna. Still looking at me, she drank. Her hard eyes were like mirrors, and revealed nothing of what she might be thinking.
“Bring them over to sit by me,” I said. “It might help me to make up my mind.”
Ell was docile. Krin was stiff. They both allowed themselves to be led.
Tim came back to the fire looking a little pale. He sat down and Otto gave him a little shove. “Want some more stew?” he asked maliciously.
“Sod off,” Tim rasped.
“A little ale might settle your stomach,” I advised.
He nodded, seeming eager for anything that might help him. Gaskin fetched him a fresh mug.
By this time the girls were sitting on either side of me, facing the fire. Closer, I saw things that I had missed before. Red marks on their wrists told me that th
ey had been tied. I saw a bruise on the back of Krin’s neck, just beginning to fade from purple to a dark green. Surprisingly, they both smelled clean. I guessed that Kete had been taking care of them.
They were also much more lovely up close. I reached out to touch their shoulders. Krin flinched, then stiffened. Ell didn’t react at all.
From off in the direction of the trees Fren called out. “It’s done. Do you want us to light a lamp for you?”
“Yes, please,” I called back. I looked from one girl to the other and then to Alleg. “I cannot decide between the two,” I told him honestly. “So I will have both.”
Alleg laughed incredulously, then seeing I was serious, he protested, “Oh come now. That’s hardly fair to the rest of us. Besides, you can’t possibly . . . .”
I gave him a frank look.
“Well,” he hedged, “Even if you can. It . . . ”
“This is the second thing I ask for,” I said formally. “Both of them.”
Otto made a cry of protest that was echoed in the expressions of Gaskin and Manst.
I smiled reassuringly at them. “Only for tonight.”
Fren and Josh came back from setting up my tent. “Be thankful that he didn’t ask for you, Otto,” Fren said to the big man. “That’s what Josh would have asked for, isn’t it, Josh?”
“Shut your hole, Fren,” Otto said in an exasperated tone. “Now I feel ill.”
I stood and slung my lute over one shoulder. Then I led both girls, one golden, one dark, toward my tent.
II
Fren and Josh had done a good job with the tent. It was tall enough to stand in, but it was still crowded with me and both girls standing. I gave the golden haired one, Ell, a gentle push toward the bed of thick blankets. “Sit down,” I said gently.
When she didn’t respond I took her by the shoulders and eased her into a sitting position. She let herself be moved, but her blue eyes were wide and vacant. I checked her for any signs of a head wound. Not finding any, I guessed she was in deep shock, recognizing the symptoms from my time in the Medica.
I dug through my travel sack and brought out a few heavy glass bottles. Then I shook some powdered leaf into my traveling cup, added potash and sugar and water from my waterskin. After swirling it around in the cup to mix it, I set the cup into Ell’s hands.
She took hold of it absently. “Drink it,” I encouraged, trying to pitch my voice between gentle encouragement and firm parental command.
It may have worked, or perhaps she was just thirsty. Whatever the reason, Ell drained the cup to the bottom. Her eyes never lost their faraway look.
I shook another measure of the powdered leaf into the cup, refilled it with water, and held it out for the dark haired girl to drink.
We stayed there for several minutes, my arm outstretched, her arms motionless at her sides. Finally she blinked, her eyes focusing on me. “What did you give her?” she asked.
“Crushed velia,” I said gently, not bothering to mention the rest. “It’s a counter-toxin. There was poison in the stew.”
Her eyes told me she didn’t believe me. “I didn’t eat any of the stew.”
“It was in the ale, too. I saw you drink that.”
“Good,” she said, “I want to die.”
I gave a deep sigh. “It won’t kill you. It’ll just make you miserable. You’ll throw up and be weak for a day or two.” I raised the cup, offering it to her.
“Why do you care if they kill me?” she asked tonelessly. “If they don’t do it now they’ll do it later. I’d rather die . . . .” she clenched her teeth before she finished the sentence.
“They didn’t poison you. I poisoned them and you happened to get some of it. I’m sorry, but this will help you over the worst of it.”
Krin’s gaze wavered for a second, then became iron hard again. She looked at the cup, then fixed her gaze on me. “If it’s harmless, you drink it.”
“I can’t drink it,” I explained. “It would put me to sleep, and I have things to do tonight.”
Krin’s eyes darted to the bed of blankets and furs laid out on the floor of the tent.
I smiled my gentlest, saddest smile. “Not those sort of things.”
Still she didn’t move. We stood there for a long while. I heard a muted retching sound from off in the woods. I sighed and lowered the cup. Looking down I saw that Ell had already curled up and gone to sleep. Her face looked almost peaceful. I took a deep breath and looked back up at Krin.
“You don’t have any reason to trust me,” I said looking straight into her eyes. “Not after what has happened to you. But I hope you will.” I held out the cup again.
She met my eyes without blinking, and, after a long moment, reached for the cup. She drank it off in one swallow, choked a little, and sat down. Her eyes stayed hard as marble as she stared at the wall of the tent. I sat down, slightly apart from her.
In ten minutes she was asleep. I covered the two of them with a blanket and watched their faces. In sleep they were even more beautiful than before. I reached out to brush a strand of hair from Krin’s cheek. To my surprise, she opened her eyes and stared at me. Not the cold marble stare she had given me before, she looked at me with the eyes of a young Denna.
I froze with my hand on her cheek. We watched each other for a second. Then her eyes drew closed again. I couldn’t tell if it was the drug pulling her under or her own will surrendering to sleep.
I pulled Felurian’s cloak around me and for the first time since I had received it, the strange, soft warmth of it did nothing to comfort me. After a moment I settled myself at the entrance of the tent and lay Caesura across my knees. I felt rage like a fire inside me, the sight of the two sleeping girls was like a strong wind fanning the coals. I set my teeth and forced myself to think of what had happened here, letting the fire burn fiercely, letting the heat of it fill me. I drew deep breaths, tempering myself for what was to come.
I waited for three hours, listening to the sounds of the camp. Muted conversation drifted toward me for a while, shapes of sentences with no individual words. Before long they faded, mixing with soft cursing and the sounds of people being ill. I made the circle breath as Tempi had shown me, relaxing my body. Slowly counting my exhalations to mark the passing time.
Then, opening my eyes, I looked at the stars and judged the time to be right. I slowly unfolded myself from my sitting position and made a long, slow stretch. There was a half-moon and everything was very bright around me.
I approached the campfire slowly. It had fallen to sullen coals that did nothing to light the space between the two wagons. Otto was there, his huge body slumped against one of the wheels. I smelled vomit. “Is that you, Kvothe?” he asked blurrily.
“Yes,” I continued my slow walk toward him.
“That bitch Anne didn’t let the lamb cook through,” he moaned. “I swear to holy god I’ve never been this sick before.” He looked up at me. “Are you all right?”
Caesura leapt, caught the moonlight briefly on her blade, and tore his throat. He staggered to one knee, then toppled to his side with his hands staining black as they clutched his neck. I left him bleeding darkly in the moonlight, unable to cry out, dying but not dead.
Manst startled me as I came around the wagon. He made a surprised noise as he saw me walk around the corner with my naked sword. But the poison had made him sluggish and he had barely managed to raise his hands before Caesura took him in the chest. He choked a scream as he fell backward, twisting on the ground.
None of them had been sleeping soundly, and Manst’s cry set them pouring from the wagons and tents, staggering and looking around wildly. Two indistinct shapes that I knew must be Josh and Fren leapt from the open back of the wagon closest to me. I struck one in the eye before he hit the ground and tore the belly from the other.
Everyone saw, and now there were screams in earnest. Most of them began to run drunkenly into the trees, some falling as they went. But the tall shape of Tim hurled itself at me. Th
e heavy sword he had been oiling and sharpening all evening glinted silver in the moonlight.
But I was ready, I slid a long, brittle piece of iron into my hand, and muttered a binding. I concentrated and felt the cold leech into my arm. Just as he came close enough to strike I snapped the iron sharply between my fingers. His sword shattered with the sound of a broken bell, the pieces falling brightly to disappear in the dark grass.
Even so, he made a good accounting of himself, and held me at bay for the better part of a minute. I took off his hand as quickly as I could, and left him, knowing that every moment was vital.
I ran in the direction I had seen one of the dark shapes stagger, and I was careless, so when Alleg threw himself on me from the shadow of a tree I wasn’t ready. There was no sword, only a slender knife flashing in the moonlight as he dove at me. But a knife is enough to kill a man. He stabbed me in the stomach as we rolled to the ground. I struck the side of my head against a root and tasted blood.
I fought my way to my feet before he did and cut the hamstring on his leg. Then I stabbed him in the stomach and left him cursing on the ground as I went to hunt the rest of them. I held one hand tight across my stomach. I couldn’t feel it yet, but I knew the pain would hit me soon. After that, depending on how deep the wound was, I knew I might not have long to live.
It was a long night, and I will not trouble you with any further details. I found all the rest of them as they made their way through the forest: Gaskin, Anne, Kete, and Tim. Anne had broken her leg in her reckless flight, and Tim made it nearly a mile despite the loss of his hand. Each of them begged for mercy as I stalked them through the forest, but nothing they said could appease me. It was a terrible night, but I found them all. There was no honor to it, no glory. But there was justice of a sort, and blood, and in the end I brought their bodies back.
I came back to my tent as the sky was beginning to color to a familiar blue. A sharp, hot line of pain burned a few inches below my navel, and I could tell from the unpleasant tugging when I moved that dried blood had matted my shirt to the wound. I ignored the feeling as best I could, knowing that I could do nothing for myself with my hands shaking and no decent light to see by. Soon I would have light enough to see how badly I was hurt.
The Years Best Science Fiction & Fantasy: 2009 Page 53
