Her scent grew stronger and stronger until he broke from the woods upon a small farmstead.
Hunger paused to survey the area. A small herd of brown and white milk goats grazed in a pasture beyond a house, but there were no farmers out and about this morning. The scent was strong here. Exceedingly strong.
She was here.
He followed the woman’s trail to the barn and found the doors standing open. He strode inside and stopped. He smelled horse and hay and harness. He smelled her as if she were standing in front of him.
He had her, had her trapped in this barn like a mouse in a box.
Hunger closed the doors to the tidy barn behind him. There was one stall and a loft of hay. He looked in the stall and found it empty, which meant she’d buried herself in the hay in the loft.
He leapt to the loft and landed in a crouch, waiting for her to try to run by him. He waited. Nothing. He kicked through the hay, reached in to the deepest parts. But she wasn’t there. He looked around, but there was nowhere else to hide!
Hunger cursed and walked back out and circled the barn. Only then did he realize what had happened. He breathed in deeply to smell it for sure. There had been a horse here—she’d taken the horse.
He walked out of the barn and followed the scent for a short distance. Yes, she’d taken the horse. He looked at the prints of the hooves. She had kicked it into a trot. She was not galloping. Not that woman. She had shown herself too smart for that.
Hunger almost chased after her, but he stopped himself. He could match the speed of a horse, but not for long. He would fail along the way if he didn’t replenish his Fire. He needed food.
He turned back to the farmhouse and pushed the door open, but he only found a table and an orange cat hiding under a chair, looking up at him in fear. An old couple must live here. He saw one pair of large, muddy, wooden clogs next to the door. Or maybe it wasn’t a couple. Maybe it was just an old man and his cat. Either way, the house was empty.
He left the house and cat and went to the pasture. The brown and white goats scattered at his coming, but they were no match for his speed. He caught one whose horns had split into four curls, shucked it, and devoured both its Fire and soul. It was not enough, and he chased down three others, leaving their bodies lying on the chewed grass.
When he’d drained the last one and felt satisfied, he stood. The power surged in his limbs. The scent of the horse mixed with the female still lay thick along the road. The sun and wind would disperse it, but not before he caught her.
37
Sleth
TALEN HELD PERFECTLY still. The seconds stretched into a minute, maybe two. Then the Shoka on the pine turned his attention back to the road.
Talen didn’t dare take another step. He didn’t even dare switch his bow to the other hand. Movement drew the eye. And even though it was yet dark, if he moved too quickly, the two across the way would see him. He knew that because he could see them even now.
The problem was he and Legs had to move. Right now, there was still enough darkness in the woods to obscure them. However, in a half an hour the morning would lighten most of the shadows and they would be standing there plain as day for anyone who just happened to take a gander in their direction.
In slow tiny increments, Talen reached back with one bare foot to feel the forest floor for a likely spot. He moved a twig aside with his toe and transferred his weight. He turned his head downwards so his voice wouldn’t carry and whispered one word for every few heartbeats.
“Feel. Your. Way. Back,” he whispered.
Legs reached back with his bare foot, found a spot. They moved in miniscule increments. Stopping, moving an inch, stopping, moving again.
A squirrel chittered off to the right. Sweat ran down Talen’s back. A mosquito buzzed him. It landed on his cheek, a large smudge at the bottom of his vision. He moved an inch. Stopped. Move another. He felt the mosquito’s pin prick. He continued to move, pushed aside some dry leaves with his toe. Paused. Moved. The thief finished with his face and droned away with its stolen treasure.
This was taking too long. The morning light was coming too fast. He could see the two Shoka on the other side of the road now well enough to make out the colored bands on their arrows.
The hoofbeats of a galloping horse sounded along the road. The Shoka stood. Moved forward to the edge of the tree line and looked up the road.
“Slowly,” Talen said. He and Legs took another step.
A moment later a rider on a tan horse could be seen through the trunks of the trees. The three Shoka stepped out onto the road, bows and spears pointed at the horseman. The man brought his horse to halt. It was another Shoka, wearing the green patterned sash of that clan.
“Hoy,” the man said.
The three Shoka must have recognized him, for they lowered their weapons.
“Keep moving,” Talen whispered to Legs. They took another slow step, then another.
“Spread the word,” the horseman said. “The hatchlings have been spotted. Prunes saw them with his own eyes.”
“Where?” one of the Shoka asked.
The tan horse pulled on the reins, trying to get its head. “At the farm of Hogan the Koramite.”
Wonderful, Talen thought. Just wonderful. He knew Prunes. The man had been one of those the Bailiff had brought with him to search the farm. Which meant the Bailiff must have posted a watch.
They should have thought of that. He and Nettle should have scouted the woods for those Fir-Noy armsmen if for nothing else.
There was an enormous beech with a trunk a few feet in diameter only a few paces away. If they could get behind that, it would hide them. “To your left,” Talen whispered.
“There’s worse,” the rider said. “That monster from Whitecliff was with them. It killed Gid. Twisted him up like a rag. The Bailiff’s calling a full muster. Everyone in the district will be standing guard over their families or going to Stag Home.”
“There’s another nine men down the trail,” one of the Shoka said. “We’ve got dogs.”
“Bring them or keep them with you. We’ve already sent out for five teams of hounds to follow trails in and out of that place. Now, if you please, I’m off to Lord Shim.” Then he urged his mount into a gallop and thundered away.
Talen and Legs took another step toward the beech. They only had one more step to go.
The Shoka with the spear turned and sprinted back down the path he’d first arrived on, probably to spread the word to those nine other men.
Talen took the last step back, then slid behind the fat beech and pulled Legs with him. He pressed his back flat up against the trunk and held his breath, shifting to make sure both of them were completely behind the tree. Legs stood up against him, his hair bushing Talen’s chin.
Dogs, Talen thought. Not only did he have to escape with a blind boy in tow, but now he had dogs to deal with. Before noon today everyone in Talen’s family would be famous. And the Bailiff wouldn’t give them an easy pass this time. They’d done more than make a fool of him. They’d stabbed him in the back. No, there would be no easy pass. He’d come with those ice cold eyes and there would be no deliverance.
Talen thought of Da in the hands of the Mokaddian Council. The reports of what Prunes saw was not going to help him. Resentment began to build in Talen again. If only Legs and Sugar hadn’t shown up. Why couldn’t they have gone to some other member of this sleth nest? Why couldn’t Da have turned them away?
But, of course Da couldn’t because Da never turned anyone away. And even if he had, sooner or later something would have happened. You can’t sow deceit and not expect to eventually reap its bitter fruit. But assigning blame wouldn’t get Talen out of this current mess. They had to get to the Creek Widow’s. They had to get there quick.
Talen counted to six hundred, the whole time his heart beating like a drum in his ears.
The squirrel they’d heard earlier chittered again in its tree.
Slowly, Talen turned around
so he was facing the beech. Then he leaned ever so slowly until he could just peer around the side of the smooth trunk.
Both of the remaining two Shoka were in the woods on this side of the road. They were crouched over, slowly moving forward, bows at the ready, listening and watching the woods. The one closest to Talen carefully stepped over the fallen pine where the lead Shoka had been sitting earlier.
Talen pulled back.
By all that was holy! They must have caught something of his and Legs’s last quick move to the beech. They obviously hadn’t seen the movement clearly enough, or they would have been focused on the beech. But that wouldn’t last long. If they continued forward, they would soon find Talen and Legs. The choice now was to run like idiots or wait and greet the Shoka with a pleasant hello when they found them.
Talen could try to shoot them with his bow. But there were trees and branches that could deflect his arrows. If the first shaft didn’t find its home, then it would be two against one.
Up ahead, a bunch of clumped short pines grew in a line. If he and Legs could get behind that greenery, it just might give him time to find better ground for this fight.
“We’re going to run,” Talen said and took Leg’s hand. “Are you ready?”
“Ready,” Legs said.
“Now!” Talen said and dashed out from behind the tree. Legs stumbled. Then he cried out and stumbled again. Talen gripped Legs’s hand tighter and kept him on his feet.
The Shoka shouted and called for them to stop, but Talen kept moving until he and Legs skirted the end of the clump and were well behind the thick boughs. This small line of pines ran to the dry bed of a brook. And while the undergrowth on the short banks of the brook might be tall enough to give them some cover, there was no way he and Legs could outrun the two Shoka. They’d corner them soon enough.
“Show yourselves,” one of the Shoka called.
Talen had a plan. He doubted it would work. But something at this point was better than nothing. The ground here was slightly rocky. He couldn’t imagine running on it blind, but that’s what had to happen—there was no time to dither. “Come on,” he said. “Just a little farther.”
Legs stumbled once more on the way to the dry brook bed, but he did not cry out and reveal their position.
“I want you to keep low and move down this dry brook bed. I need you to draw their attention.”
“You’re leaving?”
He couldn’t squat here and jabber. “Just keep their attention.” Then Talen rose and dashed back to the line of pines, bow in hand. He needed to get on the other side so he could circle around behind the two Shoka. Of course, this wouldn’t work if the Shoka had decided to split up.
Just before he got to the other side of the pines, Talen stopped. He looked down the edge of the line of trees. Nobody was there. His hopes rose: maybe they ran back to the road for help. That would give him and Legs time. But in the next breath that hope was dashed.
“Stop and show yourself,” one of the Shoka called. “We see you there in the brook.”
“I’m nobody of any account,” Legs shouted out.
“Then stand and show us who you are.”
Good, Talen thought. They thought both he and Legs were there. He slipped to the far side of the line of trees and carefully made his way down the line.
“Promise you won’t hurt me,” said Legs.
“We’ll promise you nothing.”
Talen had his arrow nocked, a second in his bow hand.
“I’m going to stand up,” said Legs.
Talen took a few more steps and realized that his way was clear from this side of the pines. He could leave Legs and save himself. He could be across the road and into the woods on the other side before these Shoka realized their mistake. Later, he could claim he’d been entranced by the hatchlings, taken prisoner after their monster had attacked their farm.
“There were two of you,” said a Shoka. “Where’s the other?”
“He won’t stand up,” said Legs.
“Get up,” the Shoka commanded. “Or we’ll shoot your friend. And then we’ll hunt you down and shoot you.”
“Stand up,” Legs pleaded. “They’re going to shoot me.”
The little man was quite the actor, and all while being threatened with death.
Talen took a breath to brace himself, then continued down the line and turned the corner back toward Legs.
Both the Shoka were facing Legs. One Shoka stood only a few paces away from Talen. The other was moving up and to the right, probably trying to flank Legs and his imaginary friend. Legs stood a few yards from where Talen had left him, his whole torso rising above the banks of the brook bed
“Stand up!” Legs said, flailing his arms at his imaginary friend as if Talen were hunkered down right next to him.
Talen took a careful step. Then another. He raised his bow. Took another step reaching out with his toes.
“This is your last warning!” said the Shoka. He pulled the arrow back the last few inches to his cheek.
Talen recognized the Shoka. He’d competed with him before in the practice musters. He was young, even if he did have the clan tattoo on his wrist.
“Put the bow down,” said Talen.
The Shoka startled and twisted to look at Talen.
Talen took the last step and aimed the sharp tip of his iron arrow point at the young man’s chest.
The bowman’s eyes went wide with alarm. “You,” he said. He glanced to the side looking for an escape.
“No,” said Talen. “You’re not quick enough. Don’t even think about it.”
The second bowman began to turn.
“You know who I am,” said Talen. “I could have drilled both of you with an arrow while you were doing your sneaking. And I will if you don’t listen to me.”
“You’re going to have to kill me, half breed,” said the one in front of him. His voice was full of fear and determination.
“No,” said Legs. “We’ve got something else that will do that for us.”
The bowman’s eyes widened.
“He can squish up both of you like rags,” said Legs.
Hu, Talen thought. It was one thing to threaten a Mokaddian. It was quite another to claim they had some sleth monster on a leash. This mire just got deeper and deeper.
“Nobody needs to get hurt,” Talen said. “Just toss your weapons.”
Neither Shoka moved.
“Should we call it?” Legs said.
The second Shoka looked about, then tossed his bow down. “Don’t hurt us,” he said.
The first Shoka looked at his companion in dismay.
“Put your bow down,” Talen said.
For one brief moment Talen thought he was going to have to kill the Shoka. He didn’t want to. He had nothing against him, and it would do their cause no good to add another Mokaddian death to it, but he would do it. Talen drew his arrow just a tad father back.
The Shoka licked his lips in calculation, then released his draw and dropped the bow and arrow onto the pine needles at his feet.
“Knives too,” said Talen.
Both Shoka unlooped the knives at their waists and cast them aside.
“On your bellies over there,” Talen said and pointed to a flat spot of ground.
Legs decided that was the time to step out of the brook bed. When he got to the top of the short bank, he walked, both hands in front of him, one high, one low.
“He’s the blind one,” the bowman said.
“Indeed, he is,” said Talen. “On your faces.”
The two Shoka knelt and then stretched out facedown on the needles. Talen kicked the two bows together. “Legs,” he called. “Unstring this bow at my feet. We’re going to tie them up.”
They didn’t have much time. The third Shoka could be returning this very moment to the road with the others and their dogs.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later Talen and Legs were making their way toward moving water. There was at least
one river and two creeks between them and the Widow’s and they’d have to use all three now that dogs might be involved.
The bow strings hadn’t been long enough to bind both Shoka to different trees. So Legs had cut two strips off his tunic to use as rope and two more to use as gags.
“Do you think they will stay put?” asked Legs.
“Oh, I think your little eye show gave them quite a scare.” That and the fact that he’d married his freaky eye-rolling with odd gaggings and contortions. It was quite an effective method to cow the two so they didn’t try anything stupid while Talen tied them up. It had almost put Talen himself on the run.
And when the one Shoka had asked what was happening, Talen had played up the story Legs told. And why not? How could the story get any worse? His family had already been caught harboring the hatchlings. They’d already been connected to the monster. And, despite the usefulness of claiming the hatchlings had enchanted them to do their bidding, there was no one else in the family who might be tempted to say such a thing. And, truth be told, even he wasn’t going to give into that. Besides, they needed time. An hour’s head start might not even be enough if the dogs came.
“You know full well what he’s doing,” he had said.
The Shoka had taken it, as intended, for slethery. And then the bright idea had come to Talen to say he believed Legs was calling the monster to watch them, to make sure they didn’t run.
Oh, yes. Talen was in this up to his neck.
Now the question was not if he was going to die. It was only when. And would it include a lot of torture?
He thought of Da in Whitecliff. He hoped Uncle Argoth would protect him. Surely, Uncle Argoth would be able to convince Lord Shim. Because Talen certainly wasn’t helping him any.
Talen stopped in front of a clump of poison ivy. They needed to get to the first creek and wash their trail away. Then they needed to get to the river. Maybe float a bit.
“We need to move faster,” Talen said.
“My feet,” Legs said.
Talen looked down. The boy’s feet were bloody in three places.
Servant: The Dark God Book 1 Page 40
