Servant: The Dark God Book One (Volume 1) (14 page)

By the time they hiked back up the bank and to the run between the barn and the garden, it was dark. Da had shuttered up the windows against the evening insects, and so they only had starlight and a half moon to guide them. Talen had wanted to wait until dark so the hatchlings wouldn’t be able to see much of what they were doing. Now he wondered if he had enough light to set the snare properly.

First, they pushed the wheelbarrow and eight empty barley sacks out to the cross-post fence that enclosed the mule pasture. A long mound of stones, taken from the field, stretched along the base of the fence. They doubled the sacks and then filled them with enough stones to equal the weight of a large man. Then they pushed the sacks back and into the barn underneath the pulley that allowed them to lift loads up to the barn loft and bound all four sacks together.

Next, they pushed the empty wheelbarrow out to the run between the garden and the barn. They set it next to the side of the barn and angled it out into the path in such a way that it would direct someone walking here to step right into the trap.

They dug some beets and carrots, complaining loudly about having to work in the dark as punishment for fighting earlier with Ke and River. Then Talen announced that he would leave the vegetables just inside the garden gate and finish in the morning. Anyone listening in the woods would have heard and known a meal was waiting in the garden.

Then he and Nettle coated their hands, the noose, and trigger pegs with the mud.

Nettle disappeared into the barn. A few moments later, he opened the loft doors. Talen threw him the end of his rope and waited until Nettle had fed it through the outside pulley to the one that hung above the stones.

When Talen heard Nettle’s soft whistle, he knew Nettle had fastened the end to the sack of stones, and he began to pull. Both he and Nettle had to work to lift the stones aloft. When they’d finally lifted them to the pulley crane inside the barn, Talen began his work. He set the noose, trigger line, and pegs.

Talen had caught deer with counterweight snares before. It was possible that the noose would grab a leg, but it also might tighten up around the neck. If all worked well, they’d have a hatchling before dawn. Of course, a real deer might trip it as well. But Talen didn’t think so. The dogs were usually very good at chasing most things off.

And that reminded him: the dogs would have to come in. This trap could very easily choke and kill one of them. He went to where Blue lay then picked him up and carried him back to the house.

A soft light from one lamp spilled from River’s room. In the main room, a double spout lamp burned on the table. Da held the waste basket to the edge of the table and brushed wood shavings into it. He’d been working on a rose carved in cherry wood. Ke sat at the other end of the table rubbing sheep’s tallow into his boots.

Queen went to Da silently, wagging her tail and asking for attention.

Da looked up. “I don’t want the dogs in here.”

“I’ll keep them in the loft with me,” said Talen. “Blue needs to be close.”

Da grunted. “So what were the two of you doing out there?”

“Nothing,” said Talen.

“You were doing something.”

Talen glanced at Nettle and back at Da. Talen knew he’d make them take down the snare. “We were just talking.”

Da grunted again and then went back to his work.

“What are we going to do about the watch?” Talen asked.

Da motioned at a harness of parade bells. “Ke’s going to take first watch. He’s going to string a line around the property. That line will be rigged to these bells. Anyone trips that line and we’ll hear it.”

“And then what?”

“Then we see what tripped the bells,” Ke said.

That didn’t sound like much of a plan, but Talen didn’t argue. He took Blue upstairs. Nettle and Queen followed behind.

When they reached the loft, Nettle said, “If something comes, we won’t have time to be looking for our bowstrings in the dark. We’d best get them ready now.”

It wasn’t good to leave a bow strung, but in this case Nettle was right. So they strung their bows and leaned them and their quivers against the wall, and then they lay down in their narrow beds. Queen came over and licked Talen’s face until he told her to settle down.

The light coming up the stairs diminished. Someone scraped open River’s tin candlesave and closed it. She loved the smell of beeswax and herbs, even if it did cost more than oil or tallow. But the mice loved beeswax so the candles had to be put beyond their nibbling. Soon the light from downstairs disappeared altogether.

Talen heard Da go outside and draw up water from the well then come back in and retire to his room. The house quieted. An owl hooted outside.

He lay on his bed unable to sleep. He waited for what seemed a long time, staring at the ceiling.

A jingle sounded from below.

“Nettle,” Talen said.

“I heard it,” said Nettle.

Another small jingle, then one big one.

Talen and Nettle jumped out of bed, startling Queen, grabbed their bows and quivers, and dashed down the stairs in the dark. Nettle slipped on the narrow steps at the bottom and crashed into Talen. They would have both sprawled out onto the floor, but Talen held onto the railing and swung into the wall instead.

“Ho!” said Talen. “The alarm!”

There was laughter in the darkness, and then Da lifted on side of a lantern to illuminate himself and River. Da was shaking so hard with laughter he almost knocked the lamp over. River sat next to him holding her sides. Ke stood across the way in the doorway of his room grinning like an idiot.

Da grabbed the alarm line, gave it a good shake. “Just testing your speed, son. Just testing your speed.”

Da! He was worse than River. “Very funny,” said Talen.

That only set all three of them to laughing again.

“Come on,” Talen said to Nettle and marched back upstairs.

They had both just lain down when the bell jingled again.

“I’m busting my sides with laughter,” Talen called down.

Da laughed again. But he was going to find crickets in his boots this week. And next week, he’d sink to the ground while sleeping with loose bed ropes. And then it would be Talen’s turn to laugh.

He heard three more jingles and laughter, and then Da called up a good night.

After everything that had happened today, Da was joking. It was ridiculous. It was—

Talen stopped mid-thought. He suddenly knew why Da was making light of it. He was trying to relax them, just as he did his bowmen when they went into battle, which meant that Da was taking this very seriously indeed. Maybe Da was concerned about sleth after all. Maybe all of his arguing against the Fir-Noy was just a way to help them keep cool heads. This comforted Talen, and he suddenly found he could close his eyes.

14

Fugitives

SHOUTS JOLTED TALEN out of bed.

“Hold,” Ke said from below. “Identify yourself.” There was no joking in his voice now.

Talen grabbed his bow in the darkness. This time when he and Nettle reached the bottom of the stairs, the door stood open and Ke had his own bow drawn, pointing it out in the moonlit yard.

“Zu,” the soldier said. “We are part of the barbican watch. I bring Captain Argoth’s summons.”

The moon had risen and Talen could see one man wearing a helm and a chain mail shirt standing out in the yard. Men and horses stood behind him.

Talen’s first thought was of the armsmen they’d beaten earlier. But there were no Fir-Noy markings on the soldiers he could see. Only Shoka. Furthermore, this soldier’s wrist also bore the tattoo weave of Shoka bull horns. But, then, it had been Shoka that had beaten him at the village. Talen nocked an arrow and silently moved closer to the hearth in order to get a clear shot at the man outside the door and those beyond.

“What’s this about?” asked Da.

“You know the sleth woman?” the soldier asked.

“You’re referring to Purity, the smith’s wife?”

The soldier said nothing.

“I know Purity,” Da said, “and she’s no sleth woman.”

“You are summoned to be in Whitecliff within the hour.”

“For what cause?” asked Da.

“Captain Argoth wants help interrogating her. I can only suppose he thinks a Koramite might win her trust.”

Ke pitched his voice low. “It’s a trap,” he said.

“Only a fool rides at night,” said Da.

“We’ve got a moon,” the soldier said. “And we will escort you back.”

“That’s not enough assurance.”

“No,” said the soldier. “But this should be.” He withdrew a linen handkerchief from his waist pouch and held it out for Da to take.

Da took it. It had embroidery upon one of its corners—three trees and red circle underneath. It was Uncle Argoth’s sign.

Da took in and held it to his nose. “Spearmint,” he said.

Uncle Argoth loved spearmint, planted it around his house, carried it with him. Talen lowered his bow.

Da sighed. “Let me saddle my mule.”

“We have a mount.”

“I’ll trust my own, thank you.”

Da turned to Nettle. “Your father, it seems, can’t wait until morning.” Then he turned back to his room to dress. Before disappearing within, he called back to Ke. “Get Iron Boy saddled up.”

Ke put down his own bow, lit the lamp Da had left on the table, and walked outside with it to the barn to get the saddle. And then Talen realized Ke would notice the snare’s counterweight there.

He hurried to the door and past the Shoka, but before he made it to the well, Ke called out. “What’s this?”

“Don’t touch anything!” Talen called.

Moments later Talen heard a loud crash and the clank of the cow bell he’d attached to the snare.

Ke cursed then stormed out of the barn holding the cow bell in one hand the lamp out in front of him with the other. “A snare?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Talen replied, “and a good one at that.”

“A good way to cause problems. You don’t go laying snares where others might go without informing us!”

Da walked out of the house dressed for riding. “You two. Again?”

Ke held up the cow bell.

“What’s that?” asked Da.

Talen turned.

Ke motioned behind him in anger. “Around the side of the barn. You’ll see. I’m going to fetch Iron Boy.” Ke stormed past two of the fortress watchmen drawing water for their horses and to the horse pen.

Da called to River and asked her to get the men something to eat. With them distracted, he turned to Talen. “Let’s go see.”

Talen sighed and led Da around the side of the barn to the snare. Da looked up at the rope and noose hanging limply from the pulley in the moonlight. “You know, it’s one thing to give a man a beating. It’s quite another to kill him. Then you’ve got blood debt and revenge and families to deal with.”

“It wasn’t for the hunters,” Talen said. Then he pitched his voice low. “You weren’t going to believe me until I had one of the hatchlings swinging in the yard.”

“Right,” Da said. “And what if River had come here in the morning to fetch a few potatoes, sleep still in her eyes?”

“I’d thought of that,” said Talen.

“No,” said Da. “You hadn’t. The best way to avoid accidents is to not hide traps from your fellow defenders. But I give you credit. It’s a good idea. Still, you’re not going to reset this. Not tonight.”

It wouldn’t do any good now anyway because the hatchlings had surely heard all about it. “You’re right,” said Talen. “I won’t.”

“Now you’re being sensible,” Da said and clapped Talen on the shoulder. “You can clean this up in the morning. Right now you can help me saddle up Iron Boy.”

Talen did. Then he watched Da mount and ride off into the moonlight with the men. When they disappeared into the moon shadows of the forest, Talen wondered: Da was formidable, so what would they do now if the armsmen returned? Or if the hatchling worked some evil?

Ke restrung his bell alarm line then pointed at Talen. “Since you’re so eager to catch something, I think I’ll let you take the next watch. In fact, you and Nettle can have the next two.” He didn’t wait for their reply, just yawned and walked back to the house.

Nettle and Talen followed. When they entered, they found River by the fire, a kettle over the flame. “The water’s heating. I suggest you make a cup of nightwatch tea.”

“Thanks,” Talen said.

River smiled and retired to her bedroom. Talen looked at Nettle. “First or second watch?” he asked.

“First,” Nettle said.

Talen nodded and retrieved the kettle from the hot coals in the hearth. He made a cup of tea for Nettle and handed it over. Talen didn’t think he would be able to fall back asleep, but unrolled his blanket on the floor by the table and lay down on it anyway.

Nettle rummaged through the pantry. He soon found a thick heel of two-day-old bread upon which he spread salted lard. He said around his mouthful of old bread, “I don’t know who to worry about more—hunters or hatchlings. I’m beginning to think we should have laid half-a-dozen snares.”

“Call me when they attack,” Talen said.

Nettle opened the shutters to look out on the yard full of dark moon shadows. “Queen’s out there. Although I don’t know how much good that will do.”

“Listen for the bell,” Talen said. He relaxed, listened to the crickets outside, and surprisingly found himself drifting to sleep.

Sometime later, Nettle nudged him awake. The stars still shone outside.

“Did you see anything?” asked Talen.

“A family of skunks,” said Nettle. He yawned. “Came right up to the window, but they must have gotten a whiff of you, because they turned tail and ran.”

“Funny,” said Talen.

“But true,” said Nettle.

Talen rose and put the kettle back over the coals. Before his tea had finished steeping, Nettle lay asleep.

Talen waited at the window into the small hours of the morning. Twice he heard something and brought his bow up to the ready, but nothing materialized. Nothing moved but the night shadows as the moon made its way to the western horizon.

He thought about the upcoming Festival of Gifts, where the people celebrated the end of the fall harvest and all the gifts of the Creators. There would be no Divine bestowing gifts of healing and Fire, but that would not stop the merchants and entertainments.

He had planned on going and buying a few sweets and being content to look at everything else. But now he sat listing out in his mind what a hero and his reward might buy. He was going to surprise everyone. Nobody seemed to think he would amount to much of anything. But what would they say when he hogtied the hatchlings and carted them into Whitecliff?

He waited and watched and waited and began to tire of waiting. A pressure began to build in his bowels. He stood, tried various positions to hold it, but soon he realized that if he didn’t get to the privy immediately, he was going to have other problems besides hatchlings.

Lords and lice, he thought. There was an old chamber pot in the back room, but he couldn’t imagine the ribbing he’d get from Ke when he found out he’d been scared to go out. Besides, there was nothing in the yard.

He nudged Nettle, but Nettle only rolled over to his other side. Talen looked out at the yard, the moon shadows about the barn, and the dark woods. He did not want to go outside, but he could not wait. So he picked up his bow and a clutch of arrows, the walked to the front door and opened it just a nudge. He scanned the yard again and found nothing. Then he slipped out the door, hurried across the yard past the well with his bow and a clutch of arrows, and ran to the privy.

Just before he flung open the door, he realized the privy would be a fine place to hide. A hatchling could lie in wait there, waiting for some groggy soul to stumble into its clutches.

Talen froze, then nocked an arrow, took a step back, and waited for the creature to come out. But the privy was silent as stone. So he carefully stepped to the side towards which the door opened, reached out, grabbed the door handle, and counted to three. Then he ripped the door open and stepped back. The door banged into the side of the privy. Talen drew his bow. Aimed.

Nothing emerged. Nothing but the night insects made a sound. He skirted round the front to get a clear view, but the privy was empty.

Thank the Six, he thought then rushed in and closed the door behind him. With a great sigh of relief he dropped his trousers and went about his business. As he did, he began to think of the story of the sleth woman cutting people up and curing them like hog meat. And then he realized he’d just put himself in a box—if some sleth abomination was out there, grabbing him would be like grabbing a fish out of a barrel, like fetching a chicken out of a bird basket.

Goh! The hackles rose on the back of Talen’s neck. He was a fool. He should have used the chamber pot, not come out here in the middle of the night when everyone was sleeping because it was quite likely—with all the noise and theatrics he’d made—that the hatchlings had seen him enter the privy and were now waiting in the dark shadow of the house to steal his immortal parts as he made his way back.

It was true they hadn’t attacked him earlier, but that was during the day. Everyone knew sleth powers waxed at night. He was an idiot.

Talen finished his business and drew up his trousers, but didn’t dare open the door. Instead, he dropped to his knees and peered at what he could see of the moonlit yard through a knothole about a foot from the bottom of the door. He spent what seemed at least half an hour at it and saw nothing. He held his breath and closed his eyes to hear better. Nothing.

Maybe he’d slipped by them. Maybe they hadn’t seen a thing. Talen rose up and sat on the seat and realized he could stay the whole night in the privy if he had to. But that would leave everyone else back at the house exposed.

He sighed. His job was to stand watch, and by Regret’s hairy arse that’s what he’d do. He reached for the door and heard the distinct creak of the well crank. He paused. Surely, it was a floor board underneath him. But the well crank creaked again, high and light.

Talen dropped back down to the knot hole. Two dark figures stood at the well. The larger one was cranking the bucket up ever so slowly. It was a woman or girl with one long braid of hair. The smaller figure was a boy. He just stood there holding what looked like a goat’s bladder.

The girl drew up the well bucket and then had the boy hold the bladder as she filled it. They filled it good and plugged its mouth shut. The girl quietly hung the bucket back on the peg. And then the girl turned toward the privy and began walking. The boy grabbed the back of her tunic and followed like he was blind.

Blind. He was blind!

Walking across the yard was a girl and a blind boy, no doubt her brother—the precise description of the hatchlings.

One part of Talen felt the satisfaction of being right. The other shrunk in dread. The hatchlings
were
here. And coming his way.

There was no way Talen could get to the house now. If he were a coward, he might lift some of the loose boards off the seat and jump down into the cesspit. But the hatchlings would hear him prying the boards. They would know to look down there. After all, it wasn’t so uncommon for people to string a rope from underneath the privy bench to hang their valuables above the cess below.

He was trapped. They were coming for him.

And Nettle and the others, especially that cretin Sabin, would talk about how he’d died his pants down, shivering on the stink throne with fright. It would be the talk of the whole district. They’d come for miles to see the spot where Lord Anal Thunder had died, his bow in hand and not one shaft released. He’d be forever known as the Bung Boy or some other such nonsense.

The shame of it washed over him.

He would not die here. Regret’s eyes, he would not die at all! What was he thinking? This was his opportunity. He wouldn’t be able to trap the hatchlings and take them in alive, but so what? They were wanted dead or alive. He had his bow. He had four arrows. Da had taught him well.

He would take them now, despite the fact that he couldn’t hear anything but his heart banging in his ears.

He’d have one shot. If it flew wide of the mark, they’d be on him. But if he made the first count, they’d hesitate just long enough to let him nock a second. And that’s the one he would send into one of their hearts. Or lungs. Either was fine. And with the one crying out in pain, he’d nock his third arrow and take the other deep in the chest.

It all depended on that first arrow, which meant he’d wait until they were a bit closer, until it was impossible he’d miss.

Talen bent and looked out the knothole again. It was definitely a girl and a boy. It was definitely the hatchlings. He gauged the distance between them and the privy then stood and slowly lifted away the bar that secured the door. He took a calming breath, picked up his bow, and nocked the first arrow. He reminded himself that he was an expert shot. He might not pull a bow as strong as Ke’s, but what he did pull was deadly enough for a girl and a boy.