by Watson Davis
“An enemy village,” I said, shaking my head, looking down at my companions, wishing they’d hurry up and recover. “Not only an enemy village but the one supporting the monastery, an imperial village, receiving trade from other towns and funneling those goods up the mountain. They will have close ties to Diyune and his people.”
“How many villages have you actually been to, actually lived in, Onei?” Cole asked, his breathing slowing.
“I don’t trust towns.” I snorted. “I’ve spent most of my life skirting them, only trading with townsfolk from time to time, and then with caution.”
“Yeah.” He laughed, glancing over at Rucker and Aissal. “You’re not the best judge of whether we should go into a town or not.
“They’ll have good food and clean water,” Cole said, wiping sweat from his face. “And tools to remove these collars.”
“And beds,” Aissal added. “Fluffy beds with blankets and heating pans.”
“Bed,” Rucker said, rolling to his stomach, sitting up on his knees.
I tapped at my collar. “They see these and they’ll lock us up and send us back.” I gestured to the woods surrounding us. “We’ve got all the food we need all around us. No need to go in there.”
“Food?” Cole looked around at the forest, growing darker as the sun descended between the peaks of the pass through the mountains. “This is a forest, we have no weapons to hunt with, and it’s close to winter time. We’ll starve.”
“It is a forest.” I set the pot down, stretching my fingers, open and closed. “Lots of animals. Still plenty of edible plants, too.”
“Who’s going to hunt these animals, you?” Cole snorted.
“Yes, me.” I raised my eyebrows, straightening up, putting my fists on my hips. “I am Onei. I’ve lived my entire life on steppes and wastelands that make this look like the larder in your castle.”
“Fine, Mr. Hunter Man,” Aissal said, hoisting herself to her feet with a grunt and one hand on her knee pushing to help. “I’ll gather some firewood and you can start a fire for us, if you’re not going to let us go down to the town with the fluffy warm beds down there.”
“Fire?” I shook my head. “We have to be careful with the fire, a thick smoke could give away our position, the flickering of the light, the smoke rising in the sky. We have to dig a fire pit with an air vent to circulate the air, place it beneath the bough of a tree to disperse the smoke, and choose only dry, aged wood. Someone has to strip the bark off.”
Aissal turned toward me, a slow staggering turn, her face scrunching up, lips twisting. “Two things. First, that’s going to take forever. We don’t have that much time. Second, how are we supposed to cook and eat whatever game you bring back if we don’t have utensils, and spices? Are you insane? I don’t even eat animal flesh, can you find edible plants in a woodland you don’t know?”
I held up four fingers, smiling. “That’s four things.”
“He can count?” Cole laughed. Shaking his head, he said to Aissal, “We can’t stay here. We have to go to the village.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding, glancing at me, a smug look of disdain on her face. “I agree.”
“Fine.” I shrugged, chuckling, fighting back the urge to knock all of them in the head. “Good luck. You can go, not me. What are you expecting to happen once you’re down there? Do you think you can dance into town, without a single imperial coin, not even an eighth of a Nayen, with nothing for barter, knock on someone’s door, and tell them you’re cold and hungry, with the expectation they’ll take you in, feed you from their own table, and tuck you into a nice bed. Truly?”
“Well.” Aissal stared at me, her head tilting to the side. “Yes. Exactly what I expect to happen.”
“With one of these around your neck?” I patted the collar on my neck, the same as the collar on her neck, and said, “Really? You expect them to do this for a slave?”
“Mmmm.” Cole folded his arms over his chest, and rubbed his fingers against his chin, eyes unfocusing, teeth scraping over his bottom lip.
“Any person with common decency would do this.” Aissal stepped toward me, her brows pressing together, anger in her blue eyes. “You have to learn to trust people. People are intrinsically good.”
“Where you come from? Maybe.” I took a step toward her, glaring down at her. “Not in this world, not here, not for us.”
Her finger poking me in the chest, she said, “You have no idea how—”
“The Onei has a valid point.” Cole reached out his right hand, separating us, inserting his arm between Aissal and me. “Before we can ask for some hospitality, and reasonably expect to receive it, we have to get these collars off or come up with some way to conceal them.”
Aissal grunted, shaking her head, turning away from us.
I nodded at Cole, recognizing his acceptance of reality, thankful for it. “I’m not stepping foot in a village or a town, not as long as we’re in the empire, preferably not until I reach Windhaven, but if you all will not use your minds correctly, I suggest you at least wait until late tonight, perhaps sneak into a blacksmith’s forge and steal some tools we can use to remove these collars.”
Cole sighed, his eyes watching Aissal’s back. “That might work.”
I said, “Aissal, get some branches, some leaves, and I’ll put together a shelter for the night. Rucker, can you gather up dry branches, too? Cole, you and I can start digging the fire pit. Good?”
Cole looked at me and nodded assent.
Rucker sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m still a slave.”
# # #
My face and feet chilly, I woke, laying on my back covered in dry leaves. Eyes easing open, the stars above me spreading across the sky like jewels, the sliver of the moon shining down and illuminating the copse of trees around me even if only in shadows, I didn’t move, wanting the moment to last, listening to the sounds of the night, an owl hooting in the distance, the wind bending the trees, shaking the branches, rustling the leaves, sending a cascade of new ones raining down.
The fire’s almost out.
I closed my eyes, breathing deep, trying to force myself back to sleep.
I should have set traps before going to sleep.
My eyes flew open. The others slept, protected by the lean-to I’d thrown together, breathing heavy and slow, Rucker snoring, the three of them huddling together with me just to the outside.
The amulet pressed into my back, hard and uncomfortable.
Holding my breath, each movement slow and precise, I eased myself out of the lean-to. Cole lay with his back toward me, his cheek on the top of Aissal’s head, his arm draped around her waist, while she spooned with Rucker the same way, sharing their warmth.
Something twinged inside me, in my heart, not belonging, not being a part of the group, being the one no one wanted to listen to. I did not need this. I would have been halfway to Windhaven by now if not for them, I could still leave and go. They were not my tribe, my blood, my kin. I’d known Rucker’s name for all of two days. If they thought they knew better, if they thought they knew the right way, the civilized way, and me, being an Onei, an outcast, an outsider, an enemy of the empire, if my knowledge and experience meant nothing to them? Why should I stay? Why should I bother with them?
Without a sound, I crossed over to the fire pit, and pulled some branches from the woodpile, stripping the bark off, a job Rucker was supposed to have done, slipping the wood into the fire, building it back up.
Awake now, I crept back to the lean-to, and knelt by Cole, grabbing the hem of his tunic, and pulling a strip of the cloth off, tearing it quietly, pausing when he shifted, murmuring in his sleep, until I had a nice length for a sling. I felt around in the dirt, my fingertips searching for small rocks and pebbles, smoothed ones, pulling them out of the ground to use as bullets for my sling.
After gathering a few I stood, sniffed the air, listened with my eyes closed, and strode away.
Besides, what kind of person doesn’t eat meat
when they get the chance?
# # #
Neck stiff, side aching, Aissal wanted to turn, tried to turn, to roll over. She kicked, attempting to catch the blanket with her foot and push it off her, to let a little air in, to cool down. But she couldn’t move, her foot didn’t find any blanket, and things, hot things, blocked her way so she couldn’t roll over, something heavy across her waist, pressing against her back, her chest.
Something tickled at her nose.
She opened her eyes a bit at a time. Her right eye opening first. The light bright and oddly greenish in hue. Leaves. Leaves covered the side her face, her eyes. Rucker’s hair tickled her nose. She jerked her head back, trying to get away from it.
The back of her head struck something hard.
“Ouch,” she said in unison with Cole who was behind her, whom she must have struck. He shoved her in the back, pushing her forward, sliding along the ground, into Rucker’s back, driving both of them into the back of the lean-to which collapsed into a pile of leaves and branches.
“By Maegrith’s spiky beard, woman,” Cole said, his voice angry, guttural. The sounds of rustling leaves, piggish grunts, and the flailing of arms came from his direction. “Watch what you’re doing.”
“Hmmm. What?” Rucker said, his voice thick and sluggish.
Her numb left hand holding the back of her head, Aissal pushed herself to her knees, pain searing into her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Your hard head gave me a concussion.”
“My head?” Cole, leaves in his hair like a crown, lay on his stomach in a stack of dry leaves, spitting, running his tongue over his lips, eyes half-closed. “That was my mouth. You busted my lip. I’m bleeding.”
Blinking and winking, Aissal sat back on her shins, trying to get her eyes to open, if only a little, the brightness of the sun combining with the sensitivity of light probably coming from her concussed brain to create a ringing ache even worse than the crick stiffening her neck. Her hands didn’t know where to go, from the sides of her head, to the back of her head, to her neck.
Cole stood, licking his lips, wiping at them with his fingers, looking at the blood, spitting. Blood trickled down to his chin from a cut on his lower lip. He glared at her. “Feels like you broke my tooth.”
“I’m sorry.” Arms reaching out, hands balling into fists, rising on the tips of her toes, Aissal stood, closing her eyes, yawning, groaning, her body protesting every move, even her nose and lungs congested and abused, her muscles quivering. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You don’t sound sorry,” Cole grumped.
“Well, I am,” she snapped, sounding even less sorry. Hearing a trickling sound, Aissal reopened her eyes.
Cole stood, resting his left forearm against the trunk of a tree, his head leaned against his forearm, his right hand holding his penis, a yellow stream of pee issuing forth, spraying on the base of the tree, on the leaves.
Aissal spun away, grimacing. I could have stayed in a nice, warm bed last night. But no.
“Hey, guys?” Rucker’s head popped out of the leafy wreckage of the lean-to, looking around, his arms reaching back in a yawn. “Where’s Caldane?”
Aissal looked around in every direction but Cole’s, peering through the dense wood, searching for some hint of him, an icy foreboding growing in her guts.
Rucker asked, “Weren’t we supposed to wake up last night, go down to the town, and find something to get these collars off?”
“Maybe he went without us,” Aissal said, her words faint, unconvincing even in her own ears.
“Yeah,” Cole said. The trickling sound sped up and then stopped. “He went without us all right, but not down to the village. He never wanted to go there.”
Aissal swung around to look at him. “You don’t think he left without us?”
“All he did was argue with us.” Cole crossed his arms over his chest. “Good riddance. Now we can get on with doing the things we need to be doing.”
“He never wanted us to come with him.” Rucker jumped to his feet, kicking at leaves, stomping on them. “He’s wanted to leave us from the first.”
Cole nodded, raising an eyebrow. “This was an easy opportunity to do so. That whole waiting until night-time to sneak down there, that was his idea, wasn’t it?”
“I never liked the idea. I don’t approve of thieves or theft or sneaking about.” Aissal bit her lip, glaring at Cole, wanting to say more, to point out that Cole had sided with Caldane against her, but she decided to let it go. She rubbed her hands together, saying, “If you’re doing something that needs to be hidden, you’re probably doing something you shouldn’t.”
“I’m hungry.” Rucker stood, his head bowed, tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Oh, baby.” Aissal rushed to him, leaning over trying to meet his gaze, failing, wrapping her arm across his thin shoulders, her hand on his cheek, cradling his head in the curve of her neck. “We’ll get you something to eat.” Her eyes found Cole’s. She nodded at him, and he shrugged before nodding back.
# # #
The last of the rabbit carcasses plopped in the orc’s pot, cleaned and dressed with the flint I’d found and chipped down to a sharp edge to use as a knife. I dipped my right hand in the cold, clear water of a stream, the stream singing against the round rocks in a rainbow of colors, the rocks smoothed into perfect bullets by the water, perfect bullets for my sling. The water washed the blood and guts from my hand, from my flint blade. The flint, along with a fistful of the nicer, smoother, rounder stones from the stream, went into the length of Cole’s hem I’d used as a sling, and hung around my neck, twisted and tied up.
The night sky faded into the thick blue of morning, later than I expected, than I wanted.
The hair on the back of my neck rose, a sound, something not of the forest. I crouched a little lower, easing myself around, my eyes darting to the tree line back from the rocky shore of the stream, nostrils flaring, testing the air for a scent, searching for a telltale movement, wondering if there was someone hidden in the shadows, someone I hadn’t heard, hadn’t smelled. Have I gotten that easy to approach in my time at the monastery? I yanked the makeshift sling from my neck, hoping I wouldn’t have to use it, wouldn’t have to rely on anything that crappy in a fight.
Handle of the pot in hand, keeping low, I rushed away from the stream, jogging back toward camp, not worrying overmuch about the trail I left behind me, a trail even a city man could see, jumping over old, lightning shattered trunks, dodging between the trees and bushes, a growing suspicion of a wrongness.
By Inare’s cold nose, how had they gotten in trouble already? I’d only been gone a few hours.
I stopped short of the clearing where I’d left them, circling it twice, eyes and ears ready for signs of a struggle, of a fight, of the enemy, hopefully a lower level acolyte, not Diyune or Silverhewer with their soldiers, instead finding the trail by which Aissal, Rucker, and Cole had left. My carefully crafted lean-to lay collapsed and utterly destroyed, but that was the only sign of violence. I crept into the clearing, taking in the story that the confused knot of footprints, smooshed grass, and broken limbs told me.
There was no fight, not even new people, just Aissal, Cole, and Rucker strolling off.
Toward the town.
They just got up and left? They left without me. Does that mean I’m free to go on to Windhaven without them?
A long, slim branch lay on the ground, perfect for a spit, so I picked it up, dropping the pot next to the neglected fire pit. I cleared the leaves from the vent, retrieved the rabbits and squirrel from the pot, driving the spit through the carcasses, placing them over the fire, letting the tree over the pit and the wind disperse the smoke.
The juices dripped from the cooking meat, dropping onto the fire, sizzling. My mouth watering with the smell, my stomach grumbling, I removed the flint knife from the sling, and tried, for the thousandth time, to pop the collar off of my neck, to find some sort of weakness in the spells. The sharp edge of the flint slid
along the slick material of the collar, not exactly iron, or even metal, some magical substance I didn’t have the knowledge of, and I could almost convince myself that it moved subtly under my fingers, reacting to me, reacting to the barbaric blade placed against it.
Giving up, returning the flint to the sling, I rested there, eyes closed, taking it all in, the clean air, the breeze across my skin, the rustle of the leaves, all the comforting scents of the living forest around me, no cell walls, no sobbing children, no fear, no stench of human excrement except for a hint of human pee. A weight lifted from me.
I am free.
The smoke from the pit growing thicker, I opened my eyes, and removed the spit from the pit, the meat ready now, cooked through.
I yanked a chunk of rabbit off the spit, took a bite, the meat hot, having to roll it around my mouth, breathing in to cool it down. My eyes slipped shut, reveling in the taste, in the ecstasy, like a dog getting a belly rub causing its legs to shake, like a deer stopping in its tracks when it hears an unexpected noise, like a cat, well, like a dog getting a belly rub. I think I moaned, trying to remember the last time I’d eaten meat I’d hunted and killed myself.
Another glorious bite, and I stared at the trail leading off toward the village, Aissal, Cole, and Rucker’s prints walking away.
They left me. I don’t owe them a thing.
Yanking another chunk of savory flesh off with my teeth, I gulped it down, feeling not quite as free as I had.
There’s no way I’m going down to that town. Towns have never been anything but bad luck for me or mine. Just a bunch of people that think they’re smarter than everyone else because they sit around not doing a damned thing all day. And those three, they think they know everything. They think they’re smarter, more worldly, than me. They don’t know.
Cole’s a nobleman who’s never had to talk to anyone that wasn’t fawning all over him, kissing his arse, telling him how great he was. Aissal? She’s from another world entirely, a world with different rules, different customs. She thinks people are going to be kind and friendly to her just because she’s sweet and innocent and has big blue eyes. And Rucker’s just a boy from a city.
