Part 11 (2/2)

s.h.i.+m shrugged.

Bosser was indignant. ”Lords, man. I'd rather die, rather run every member of my house with my own sword than join myself with abomination.”

s.h.i.+m said, ”Our good captain here saved us last year with his seafire. Of course, the Bone Faces obviously have adjusted their tactics. Still, he might save us again. So I'm not talking about casting our lot with monsters”-he c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at Argoth-”or am I?”

A warning shot through Argoth like lightening. s.h.i.+m knew. At the very least, he suspected. What was s.h.i.+m doing? Talk like this would get Argoth killed.

Bosser turned to Argoth with a look of disbelief and indignation on his face. ”What is he going on about?”

Argoth had done all he could to not reveal his lore, to make his fighting look like that of an unmultiplied man. He stroked his neck and felt the husk of the brilliant, blue beetle one of his daughters had found and made into a necklace for him. She and her sisters, his son, his courageous wife-they would bear the brunt of the violence that would be directed against him. Even if some individuals in the Clans trusted him, many more would fear him. And they would exercise their fears upon his children.

Argoth relaxed; looked as surprised as he could muster. ”Lord s.h.i.+m, I do not know what you suggest.”

”Don't you?” asked s.h.i.+m.

Arogth looked at his lord, his friend. Well, as much of a friend as one might have and still keep the kinds of secrets Argoth did. He bowed his head. ”I am sorry, Lord. I truly wish I knew how to help.”

11.

Hunters DA RETURNED IN the early evening and whistled Talen and the others in from the fields. Talen was more than happy to oblige. Most of the injuries from the villagers had receded to a dull throb. But one close to his kidney had not. It hurt every time he tried to stand straight.

They loaded the saws, axe, billhooks, hoggin, and bush knives into a push cart and began to walk back, Prince Conroy following behind. As they approached the yard, Conroy must have heard the new hens, for he let out a squawk, made an end run about the dogs, and raced to the yard.

Talen put away his tools and joined his father. Conroy stood on the handcart eying four golden hens in their baskets and vocalizing whatever thoughts roosters did to their new ladies.

”Only four?” asked Ke. ”I thought we had enough for six. Has Mol raised his prices?”

”No,” said Da. ”Mol's in a bad way. So I advanced him a payment for a load of goose down and a few hat feathers.”

”Did you see anything in the woods?” asked Talen.

”In fact, I did.” Da paused and took on an air of one about to tell a harrowing story. ”Trees. There were lots of trees.”

Ke laughed. Talen shook his head and sighed.

”Of course, there was that one hatchling swinging about on a vine. But he wasn't bothering anybody.”

Da's joking in the face of danger had worked when Talen was younger, but this wasn't funny. Talen had almost been brained into oblivion this morning, a monster was running about, and people had died.

”Your trees are nothing,” said Ke and pointed at Talen. ”The mighty hunter here saw one in the yard.”

”Did you now?” asked Da.

”Oh, yes,” said Ke. ”He got a fine view of its leg and wicked b.u.m.”

Talen folded his arms. ”I also found a spoon wet with fresh porridge.”

”I wondered where that had fallen,” said Da. ”I got to the barn this morning with my bowl, but no spoon. And I knew I'd put one in.”

So much for the spoon. ”I saw somebody,” Talen said.

”I'm sure you did,” said Da.

But Talen could see he was going to give him the same lecture River had, and so he decided not to push it. Still, something odd was going on; if they didn't want to take him seriously, fine. He'd follow the evidence and find the truth of it on his own. ”Come on, Nettle,” he said. ”Let's go check the weirs.”

Nettle handed his hay fork to Ke with a smile and followed Talen down to the river. The river ran so low this time of year that the gravel bars stood high and dry. Frogs croaked back and forth to each other from the edges of the slower pools. There were a number of fish caught in the weirs. Talen fetched eight pan-sized trout out, and then he and Nettle took the fish back to the house. They filleted them, throwing the bones and guts into a bucket for the garden.

Talen looked over the meadow where they kept their mule. That person he'd seen today, if it was a hatchling, could be out there in the shadows of the forest line right now looking at him, and he'd never know it. And the dogs were clearly not going to be any help.

Talen said to Nettle, ”I've been working this through. I'm thinking a snare is the way to go. We have a bunch of hunters working the whole district. Let them beat the bushes. We'll sit back and let the hatchlings walk right into their own doom.”

”If it was a hatchling today,” Nettle said, ”I don't know that a snare will hold them for long.”

”We'll have to be ready,” Talen said. ”Have to have our bows at hand and shoot first. There can be no hesitation.”

Nettle nodded.

They went in the house and laid the fish fillets on the table. Ke sat in his chair mending a tear in his tunic. He looked up at the fish. ”You've got to make it hard for me, don't you?” he said.

Ke was beginning yet another fast to purify his heart. He'd started fasting after the battles last year where one of his best friends had fallen and been taken by the Bone Faces. The Bone Faces hadn't removed his finger and enthralled him. Nor had they fed him to their G.o.ds. Instead, they put out his eyes, shredded his ears, broke his feet so he'd be lame the rest of his life, and cut off his manhood. Then they left him by the side of the road to die or tell his tale.

Ke had killed with a ferocious rage after that. And even though there was something new in Ke's eye that scared him, Talen had still wished he could be like his brother. And then Ke began to fast and ruined it. At first, his fasts consisted of pa.s.sing up red meat. Now he would go without food or water for a day, sometimes two.

Talen didn't understand all the fuss. It was right and good to defend home and hearth. It was right to take pleasure in the death of an enemy.

When he'd brought this obvious fact up to Ke, his brother had said, ”Yes, but what happens when you begin to relish it like a roasted apple? What happens when you cannot slake the hate?” And so Ke fasted. But the fasting didn't appear to give Ke any new insight. The only thing it produced, as far as Talen could see, was a loud stomach and a short temper. Besides, Da had killed, and he didn't fast.

Talen jiggled the basket of fish a bit. ”They're going to be tasty,” he said. ”Are you sure you can't wait? Given what's happened, I would feel more comfortable with you at full strength.”

”You've got to get the weeds when they're small,” said Ke.

Talen grunted. There were things about Ke he just couldn't understand. He went back out to the well to wash up. Da had picked up this Mokaddian was.h.i.+ng habit from Mother. Talen wondered if Da demanded they clean themselves because he truly believed in cleanliness or because it was his way of remembering her. Either way, Talen wouldn't eat until he'd scrubbed with soap.

A large basin sat on a table next to the well. Da had lined the ground around the well with bricks. He'd also laid a brick path from the well to the house. Another was half-built from the house to the privy, all to keep the boarded floor of their house clean.

Talen took his s.h.i.+rt off and scrubbed his arms, neck, and chest. He dumped a bucket of cold water over his head, and that's when he saw the footprint in the soft dirt at the edge of the bricks.

He walked to the edge of the bricks and looked down. There were three foot prints heading away from the well toward the old sod house. The prints weren't deep. In fact, you had to be standing just right to see them, but they were most a.s.suredly there.

”Nettle,” he said.

Nettle was slick with soap.

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