Beyond the Draak’s Teeth

by Marcia J. Bennett

  But it is they who sought to tame us, Father, Bhaldavin thought, and those who would not be tamed were killed. Oh, Father, what am I to do?

  Laran arrived in the afternoon. He was a big man, much like Garv in stature and coloring, but where Garv was slow-witted, Laran was quick, his dark eyes alive with schemes.

  The man was full of questions, and he didn’t like it when Bhaldavin refused to answer. Theon, who was present during Laran’s visit, made excuses for Bhaldavin’s silence—perhaps the blow to the head the day before, or the shock of waking to a strange world, or the feeling of being lost among strangers.

  Laran cut Theon off with a wave of his hand. “Enough! He might be frightened and disoriented, but from what Chagg said, he did speak—and I want to hear him. Now!”

  Theon glanced at Bhaldavin and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Laran didn’t miss that byplay. He looked down at Bhaldavin, one eyebrow cocked. “Well? What about it? Can you talk?”

  “Yes,” Bhaldavin answered.

  “And sing?”

  “A little.”

  A slow smile spread across Laran’s face. He reached out and patted Bhaldavin lightly on the shoulder. “That’s all I wanted to know, Green One.”

  Laran turned to Theon. “We have some talking to do, you and I. I suggest we get started.”

  Theon grunted noncommittally and headed toward the doorway. Things had not gone as he had hoped. Laran was no man’s fool, and it was going to take more than fast talk to outmaneuver him.

  Before the door closed behind the two men, Bhaldavin got a glimpse of Gringers and Garv seated at the table in the next room. They were playing some kind of dice game. Gringers looked up as Theon and Laran emerged from Bhaldavin’s room.

  “I’ll be out for a little while,” Theon told Gringers. “Don’t let anyone else in until I get back.”

  The door to the bedroom closed, leaving Bhaldavin in darkness. A moment later he heard the outside door shut. He waited a few minutes, then left the bed and walked to the bedroom door where he stood and listened.

  Garv and Gringers were talking, but the words were too indistinct to make out.

  He moved away from the door. Theon had said no more visitors, which meant that for a while he would be undisturbed. If he could work fast enough, it was just possible that he could be gone by the time Theon returned.

  Hours passed. Eventually a small amount of daylight filtered through a crack in the west wall of the room, giving Bhaldavin just enough light to see what he was doing. His fingers were sore from prying at the half-rotted floor boards, but he wouldn’t give up. He had already loosened three boards to a point where he knew he could wrench them up out of the way when the time came. One more board and the hole would be wide enough to allow him to slip out and under the floor. The crawl space below offered him plenty of room to maneuver.

  The smell of damp dirt wafted up from below as he continued to work, using the handle of a spoon as a wedge. Suddenly something stabbed a finger. The board snapped back into place as his hand jerked back in reflex. The solid thump of wood against wood was clearly audible.

  He froze. Though the door was closed, he could hear someone moving around in the next room. He tasted blood as he explored the cut with his tongue; the wound was shallow and of little consequence.

  He wiped his hand on his tunic and returned to work, determined to escape before Theon returned. As he bent over, his empty sleeve brushed the floor. Late that morning, Theon had brought him an old tunic and a pair of thigh-length pants. The clothes were frayed, but clean. He had put them on with Garv’s help.

  It was strange, he thought, but with the stump of his arm covered he felt less vulnerable; his visitors that afternoon hadn’t stared at his maimed body, but had looked him in the face, eyes alight with curiosity—and sometimes with fear, which baffled him. He didn’t feel at all threatening.

  He carefully wedged the floor board up, bracing it with his knee. He then reached down and under, searching for the sharp object that had cut him. He found a shard of stoneware caught in a crack; he worked it back and forth until it finally came free.

  Suddenly the door behind him opened and light flooded the room. Startled, he jumped and lost his hold on the board. It snapped back, catching his arm.

  “I thought I heard something in here,” Gringers said. “What in the name of Cestar’s Eyes are you doing?”

  Bhaldavin tried to pull his arm free, but before he could do so, Gringers was upon him, jerking him backward by the hair. He cried out as his arm scraped between the two pieces of planking; he felt as if his skin was being stripped away.

  Gringers caught him by the tunic front and thrust him up against the nearest wall. Bhaldavin struggled to break free, but his resistance earned him only a stinging blow to the face.

  Gringers crushed Bhaldavin between himself and the wall. “Don’t fight me, Little Fish,” he growled, laying his forearm across Bhaldavin’s throat. “You can’t win.”

  Bhaldavin gasped in pain as Gringers caught his arm at the wrist and slammed it up against the wall, pinning him securely. Suddenly fear and rage gave Bhaldavin strength, and he kicked out, catching one of Gringers’s legs.

  As Gringers lurched to the right, Bhaldavin wrenched free and brought his arm up and around, slamming his elbow into the side of Gringers’s face, knocking him down.

  Numbing pain shot up Bhaldavin’s arm as he darted around the fallen man and headed for the doorway.

  Gringers rolled to his feet and lunged at Bhaldavin, catching him by a pant leg and slamming him hard against the floor. Bhaldavin fought instinctively, kicking at Gringers’s head. The man grunted in pain, but somehow blocked another kick with his forearm. He rolled away as Bhaldavin scrambled to his feet; then he too had regained his feet and stood between Bhaldavin and the door.

  Bhaldavin feinted to the left, then broke to the right. Gringers grabbed the back of Bhaldavin’s tunic, then turned and swung him into the wall.

  Bhaldavin hit the wall with his good shoulder and bounced back into Gringers’s arms. Gringers drove him back against the wall again and held him.

  “Stop it. Stop it, Little Fish,” Gringers snarled. “You’re only hurting yourself.”

  “No!” Garv’s bellow of anger was deafening.

  Gringers turned just as Garv plunged into the room and grabbed him around the waist. He swore and began hitting Garv in the face as the big man lifted him from his feet. A solid blow to the nose finally broke Garv’s hold.

  Gringers turned as he dropped, caught Garv by an arm, and hauled him up and over his side. The floor shook with the impact of Garv’s body. Whirling around, Gringers threw himself on top of Garv, pinning the large man to the floor.

  Suddenly Theon was there. He threw himself into the battle, and soon he and Gringers had Garv immobilized.

  “What happened?” Theon demanded, panting with the effort of holding Garv still. “Did Garv start this?”

  “No!” Gringers snapped fiercely, glaring at Bhaldavin, who stood with his back to the wall. “He did!”

  Nose streaming blood, Garv yelled incoherently at his brother.

  It took them minutes to bring Garv under control and longer to get him out of the room.

  “Go and wash the blood from your face, Garv,” Theon commanded, pushing Garv out of the doorway. “Then bring me some fresh water. I’m going to need it to clean Little Fish off.”

  Garv eyed Gringers warily as he shuffled toward the other room. “You don’t touch Little Fish again,” he warned. “Or I’ll kill you.”

  “Go on, Garv,” Theon yelled. “Do as I told you!”

  He watched until Garv was out of sight, then turned to inspect Bhaldavin. When he saw the blood dripping down Bhaldavin’s arm, he stepped closer. “What a mess,” he muttered as he bared the arm. “Come on, Little Fish, sit down. Let me see the damage.”

  Gringers crossed to the bed. “How bad is it?”

  “Not too bad,” Theon replied. “He’s lost some skin,
but nothing that can’t grow back.” He shook his head. “What happened?”

  “I heard something from the other room. I came in to see what he was doing and found him working on the floor boards. He got his arm caught and he fought me as I pulled him away. Then Garv came in and the fight started. I don’t know what we’re going to do about him.”

  “Garv? Don’t worry. I’ll handle him. Just remember, keep your hands off Little Fish. Garv is the most gentle of souls unless angered, and the one thing that can really set him off is someone touching Little Fish.”

  Theon indicated Bhaldavin. “Stay with him a minute. I’m going to need something to cover his arm. How about you? Are you all right?”

  Gringers stretched and winced. “Garv nearly cracked my ribs, but I guess I’ll live. See to the Ni.”

  Theon left and returned a few minutes later with a pan of water and a roll of cloth bandage. During the time he was gone, Gringers stood quietly watching Bhaldavin.

  Uneasy under Gringers’s silent scrutiny, Bhaldavin kept his eyes downcast. As Theon began to work on his arm, he clenched his jaws against the pain and turned from the light.

  Theon tried to be gentle, but he could feel the tremors in Bhaldavin’s arm as he applied a disinfectant. “Almost over, Little Fish. We’ll wrap it up and let nature do the rest. Gringers, there’s a flask of wine sitting on the floor behind the front door, and some cups on the shelf over the fireplace.”

  Theon had finished bandaging Bhaldavin’s arm by the time Gringers returned. The two men shared a drink, then Theon refilled his cup and handed it to Bhaldavin.

  “Drink, Little Fish. It’ll help dull the pain.”

  Bhaldavin ignored the offering by closing his eyes. He hated Gringers for ruining his escape, and he hated Theon for the kindness and sympathy he was showing. All he wanted was to be left alone.

  “Little Fish?” Theon said.

  “Never mind,” Gringers said. “Don’t push him. He’s angry right now and sulking. He’ll get over it.”

  “Yes, in time,” Theon agreed, “but we don’t have a lot of time. We’re going to have to move tonight, and the way he’s acting now, it means we’ll have to secure him if we don’t want to lose him.”

  Gringers glanced at Bhaldavin, then gestured toward the other room where they could talk privately.

  Theon nodded, then pushed Bhaldavin back onto the bed. “Lie down for a little while, Little Fish. Try to get some rest. You’re going to need your strength tonight.” He stood up and started for the door. “We all are.”

  Chapter 5

  IF YOU DON’T LEAVE HERE TONIGHT,” THEON YELLED, getting up from the table, “Laran is going to walk in here tomorrow and take Little Fish away from you. You have no choice, Garv. You have to come with us.”

  Garv scowled down at his empty plate. They had just finished eating supper, and Gringers had left to bring his boat to the western edge of Fisherman’s Landing, away from prying eyes.

  “I want to stay here,” Garv said.

  “Stay here then,” Theon snapped. “But don’t look to me for help when Laran confiscates Little Fish, because I’ll be gone.”

  Bhaldavin sat across the table from Garv. He flinched as Theon’s hand came to rest on his shoulder.

  “And what about Little Fish, Garv? You aren’t even thinking of him,” Theon said reproachfully. “Laran intends to sell him to the highest bidder and you know that will mean one of the Reach lords. Once they have their hands on him, he’ll be lucky to last out the year. He’ll be beaten and starved into submission. Is that what you want for him?”

  Garv mumbled something.

  “What?”

  Garv shook his head. “Little Fish is mine. The Reach lords can’t have him.”

  “And how are you going to stop them? You can’t and you know it. The only way you’re going to be able to keep Little Fish is to come with us.”

  Garv raised his head and looked at Theon. “Where?”

  “I already told you. The swamps. Gringers has invited us to stay with him on his raft.”

  “I don’t like the swamps. Too many draak there.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Garv. The rafters know how to handle draak, and they have a few draak singers among them. We’ll all be safe there.”

  Garv glared at Theon. “I’m not afraid!”

  “I know you’re not, Brother. I didn’t say that you were. I only said that if you want to keep Little Fish, you’ll have to come with me to Gringers’s raft.”

  Theon came around the end of the table and slapped Garv on the shoulder. “Come. Don’t scowl so! We won’t have to stay in the swamps forever. If everything works out as I hope, we’ll be on our way to a place called Barl-gan by the end of the warm passage.”

  “Barl-gan?” Garv repeated. “Where is that?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but Gringers has a map—well, not a map really, but directions. He believes there’s great treasure to be found there. It has something to do with the First Men. I don’t know much about the old legends, but Gringers has studied them, and he’s sure that the treasure to be found in Barl-gan will make us all rich, rich enough to buy and sell any one of the Reach lords!”

  Barl-gan translated to Barl’s Hold. Bhaldavin searched his memory for a reference, but came up empty. But then, if Barl-gan was part of man’s past, there was little reason for him to know anything about it. Though he had lived within a day’s march of the coastal town of Sadil, Bhaldavin suddenly realized that he was appallingly ignorant of men’s social structure, their beliefs, and the inner needs that drove them.

  Several times that evening Theon had spoken about a great treasure, his eyes lighting with greed. The concept of being rich, as expressed by the small man, was not within Bhaldavin’s grasp. To be rich with health, knowledge, family—that he could understand. But to be rich with things that could only buy another’s obedience was alien to all he had ever been taught.

  Time passed. Theon grew restless. “Gringers should’ve been back by now,” he grumbled.

  Garv looked up. He had combed and was plaiting Bhaldavin’s hair, a task Theon had suggested to keep his brother’s mind and hands occupied. “Maybe he got lost,” Garv offered.

  “In Fisherman’s Landing? I doubt that. It’s more likely Laran or his men are responsible.” Theon went to the front window and looked out into the darkness. “Come on, Gringers! Where are you?”

  Garv finished with Bhaldavin’s hair and patted him on the shoulder. Bhaldavin looked up. “Thank you, Garv.”

  Garv smiled. “It’s good to hear Little Fish talk, isn’t it, Theon?”

  Theon turned and glanced at Bhaldavin, his frown striking in contrast to the childlike innocence on Garv’s face at the moment. “Yes, it’s nice he can talk, but unless we get him out of here soon, it won’t matter one way or the other. Laran will have him, and we’ll be left with nothing but promises.”

  Theon crossed the room and picked up the two bundles he had readied. “I think it’s time to leave, Garv. Once outside the stockade, I know a place where you and Little Fish will be safe until I can find Gringers. Here,” he said, handing the bundles to Garv, “you carry these. I’ll take Little Fish.”

  Garv frowned as Theon took down a length of rope from a wall peg near the door and proceeded to loop it around Bhaldavin’s chest and over his arm. “What are you doing to him?”

  “We don’t want to lose him in the dark, Garv,” Theon explained, keeping a wary eye on the big man. “I’m not hurting him. The rope isn’t even tight. It will just give me something to hang on to if he starts acting up.”

  Theon pulled on the single braid falling down Bhaldavin’s back. “You will behave yourself, won’t you, Little Fish?” He pulled a little harder, forcing Bhaldavin’s head up. “Believe me, Green One, life as a pet to one of the Reach lords would kill you, but only after you were driven insane. Your only chance for life lies in cooperating with us. Do as we tell you and give us no trouble, and perhaps, just per
haps, you can earn your freedom. Freedom. That is what you want, isn’t it?”

  Bhaldavin met Theon’s glance without flinching. “Yes.”

  “Good! Then we have grounds for bargaining. It’s a start.” Theon barred the front door, then took hold of Bhaldavin’s rope. “Garv, put out the lights. We’ll wait for you by the back door.”

  Theon guided Bhaldavin across the main room into a small kitchen. They reached the back door just as Garv extinguished the last light.

  “It’s been a good home,” Theon mumbled to himself. “Gringers, you’d best be right about this Barl-gan. If you aren’t—”

  Theon’s threat was cut off by a knock on the front door.

  The sound of heavy footsteps told Theon that Garv was responding to the knock. “No, Garv,” he hissed softly. “Don’t answer the door!”

  But it was too late. Garv had drawn the bolt. The door swung open. Theon peeked through the kitchen doorway and saw two men on the doorstep, one holding a lantern.

  “Going to bed so early, Garv?” Laran asked, pushing past the big man.

  Theon cursed softly and opened the back door a crack, then closed it quickly, shooting the bolt into place. “They’re out back too,” he whispered.

  Laran and the other man were in the main room now, looking around. “Where’s Theon?” Laran demanded, stepping toward the bedroom door.

  Before Garv could reply, Theon burst out from the kitchen, dragging Bhaldavin along beside him. “Get them, Garv! They’re here to take Little Fish!”

  Theon slammed into the man with the lantern, knocking him back away from the front door. The lantern fell and smashed against the floor.

  Laran shouted for his men and lunged toward Bhaldavin. Garv moved to intercept him and caught Laran around the waist, knocking him off-balance and onto the small dining table. One of the table legs gave with the combined weight of the two men, sending them crashing to the floor.