Servant of a Dark God (7 page)

“Purity does not lie,” said Da.

“Then you have nothing to fear from the ordeal,” said the Crab.

“My Lord,” said Da. “I respect your office. But you are no Divine. An ordeal—”

“Master Sparrow,” said the Crab. “Would you rather I let a mob deal with the problem? This is what prudence demands. Now, pick up the collar.”

“There’s not one of you that can revive us if the ordeal turns fatal. Let us wait for a Divine.”

“That is not an option.”

Of course, it was. But they thought Da was Sleth, and everyone knew you did not bargain with Sleth. You never gave them any quarter. Sleth were both fearsome and wily and too quick to escape their bonds.

“You live with me all these years and suddenly conclude I’m one who could devour his own children?” Da pointed at Barg. “Who was it last autumn, after those bloody battles on the Fingers, that cast aside prudence and rowed back at night to an island crawling with Bone Faces to save three doomed friends?” It had been Da who had rowed back. Da who had saved, among others, Barg the butcher.

Sugar looked into the faces of the soldiers. There were a number she recognized. Some had laughed with Da in the yard. Others had eaten at their table. Many of the villagers of Plum had drunk ale and been entertained by Legs singing his ditties. All had accepted the water he drew and delivered to the villagers as they worked the fields, him leading his goat and cart, feeling the road as he went with his stick. But those smiling faces were gone. They were replaced by faces grim and fixed on their purpose.

Mother grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward the house.

“I’ve drunk and danced with you,” said Da. “I’ve shoed your horses. I probably fashioned most of those spearheads. You’ve nothing to fear from me. My heart is as clean and fresh as well water and you all know it.”

“What we know is that all the evidence points here,” said the Crab. “And now we’ve come to the end of our discussion. If we were uplanders bent on murder, you would already be dead. I’ve done more than give you the benefit of the doubt. This is the last chance I’m giving you. Pick up the collar and irons.”

“You will kill us and learn nothing.”

“Zun,” said Barg, using the title of honor meant for warriors who were equals. “Just pick up the cursed irons.”

Da did not move.

“Bowmen,” said the Crab. “Ready yourselves.”

The bowmen drew their strings to their cheeks.

Sugar could not believe her eyes.

She and Mother now stood at the doorway to the house.

Da looked back at Mother. Some communication passed between them that Sugar could not decipher.

The Crab raised his arm to signal the bowmen. “Let all here witness that Sparrow, smith of the village of Plum, has refused an ordeal.”

“Stop!” said Da. “I’ll take your wretched collar and irons. But you know only Divines can conduct hunts. The only reason you haven’t killed us already is so that you can avoid the fines levied on mobs like this. Let it be known that on this day the laws of the Glory of Mokad have been set aside. Your blatant disobedience will be made known. And your own Divines will come to collect the debt of blood.”

The Divines would come. And they would punish these men, for the laws on this matter were clear and ruthlessly enforced: no man could take upon himself even the slightest part of the honor of a Divine. But the Divines would come too late.

Da walked forward and picked up the collar and irons.

They would almost surely use water for the ordeal. And Sugar’s family would drown. She’d once touched the cold, bloated body of a boy who had drowned. She envisioned Legs as that boy, and panic ran through her.

Da examined the irons and said, “It looks like your smithing is as bad as your judgment. I’ll need a hammer to assemble these pieces properly.”

“Those pieces are just fine,” said the district lord.

Mother turned to Legs and in a quiet voice said, “Get the shutters. Slowly now.”

Da began walking toward Mother and the open doorway.

Legs closed the shutters on the front of the house then moved to the back.

The district lord called out, “Stop!”

Da stopped only a few paces from the front step and looked back.

“Put on the collar,” said the district lord.

“Of course,” said Da. He dropped the irons in the grass. And then he dashed toward the house.

At that moment Mother moved back from the door and pulled Sugar in with her.

A cry of alarm rose from the soldiers.

“Shoot him!” commanded the Crab. “Shoot!”

THE COURAGE OF WOMEN

A

t the moment of the Crab’s command, the bowmen released their arrows, and Sugar saw the arrows fly.

Da took three, four strides. He leapt to the porch. Then an arrow struck him in the back below the ribs. Another flew like an angry insect into the house above her head and struck the wall behind her.

“Sparrow!” Mother called.

Da’s momentum carried him into the house, and Mother slammed the door shut.

More arrows struck the door. A man cried out, “I got him! I got him!”

Midnight and Sky had not followed Da. They barked viciously outside.

Mother pulled the crossbar on the door in place.

More bows thrummed outside and the dogs’ barks turned to screams. Then the dogs fell silent.

Da winced and looked down at his side. The arrow had not gone into the thick of his back, only cut the flesh on the side. But the blood still spilled from him like water. He pressed his hand to the wound.

“Those cursed blackhearts,” he said. He pulled his hand away wet with blood. “Get me a wrap,” he said to Mother. “All these years, and then they treat me like some feral dog.”

Mother took a knife to her dress and cut a long strip. “We should have ridden when I first suggested it. Why you can’t listen to me I’ll never know.”

“Well, you won’t have to fret about that much longer, will you?”

Mother was furious. She made the final cut, then came and tied it around Da to cover and hold the wound. When Da took his hand away it was dark red. Heavy drops of blood fell to the floor.

“Did you get your mother’s horse?” Da asked Sugar.

“I did,” she said, and the enormity of that almost overwhelmed her. One horse was not enough for all four of them. She cursed herself for not having thought to get Sot.

Da nodded. “It’s enough.”

From outside, they heard the Crab yelling at his men. “I want all here to witness that Sparrow has refused the proving. Fire the smithy and the house.”

Moments later Sugar heard arrows snake into the thatch above their heads. Those would have their points wrapped and burning with pitch-soaked rags.

“Fetch me my armor,” said Da.

“What are we going to do?” asked Sugar.

Da looked down into her eyes. “You, my dear, along with Mother and Legs, are going to ride Fancy out of here.”

“You fool,” said Mother. “It’s too late for that.”

Sugar thought Mother had said that in anger, but when Sugar looked up, she could see Mother was not angry—she was wracked with grief.

“I’m going to draw them away from the back,” said Da. Then he took Mother’s hand and kissed it. “It’s not too late. Not for a fool to remedy his foolishness. You three will ride away, and not look back.”

“I don’t want to ride away,” said Sugar. “Besides, where can we go that they won’t find us?”

“Mother will know,” said Da. “Now fetch me my tunic.”

Sugar hesitated, but Mother nodded, so she ran and brought the quilted under-tunic and helped Da tie it shut. Then Mother dressed him into the mail tunic that extended down to his thighs.

Da couldn’t rout so many men. They were all going to die, yet Da made her cinch the buckles on his breastplate as if he were dressing for a parade.

Legs found his way over and grasped Da’s wrist. His hair stuck out, and fear shone plainly on his face. Da took Legs’s hand and kissed it. “Be brave, Shen, son of Sparrow, son of Sparrow, son of Shen.” Shen was Legs’s given name. He was an ancestor who had been a powerful man, and Da loved telling his stories. Da kissed Legs’s hand a second time.

By the time they had the breastplate buckled about him, Sugar could hear the fire above their heads and smell the smoke coming in through the cracks of the shutters.

“Peer out the back and tell me what you can see,” said Mother.

Sugar looked out a small hole in the shutter and surveyed their garden. Fancy neighed nervously and clopped about trying to pull free from the post. The soldiers stood away from the border of the yard.

“They’ve backed up,” she said.

“Did you see their faces?” asked Da. “Half of them are petrified. Those are not children out there. I should be stuck like a pincushion with arrows. But their fear has affected their aim. Would that I were a soul-eater. Then this whole so-called hunt would be at risk. With average luck, I’d kill the lot of them and green our garden with their blood.”

Mother came away from the window. “Perhaps we can make the break together,” she said to Da. “You can take off this armor. The children and I will ride off first. And in the confusion of them chasing us, you can get on Sot.”

Da fastened his helmet on. “It’s too risky. We need to split them. I should have run to the smithy to draw them away from you, but none of the pieces there would have fit me well. There’s no armor there but what’s made for these short whoreson Mokaddians.”

Heat began to press down upon them as if they were loaves in an oven. Smoke hung about the room in hazy streaks.

“It’s time,” he said. Then he took Legs’s face in his hands and kissed his cheek, embraced him, then kissed him again. He did the same to Sugar, but she could not let him go.

She would not. Lords, she would rather die with him. She had her knife.

“You are a delight and solace,” he said. “We named you perfectly. Take care of your brother.” Then he gently forced Sugar away.

He stood and looked at Mother with a fierce light in his eyes. “I could never have found a better woman,” he said. “Even in your arguing.”

“Take off the armor,” Mother said.

“We’re not going to be able to make the break together,” said Da. “It won’t work.”

Mother seemed oddly calm. “Sparrow, my heart. Haven’t you learned yet that I’m always right?”

What was Mother thinking? Then Sugar realized she had given up. She’d always said that if her babies died, she wanted to go with them. Sugar saw this logic extended to Da as well. And perhaps that was right. They would all die together.

“No,” said Da. “We’ll not take that route. We’ll not walk into their spears and arrows without a struggle. If they want my blood and the blood of my fine wife and children, then they will pay for it. You’re feeling battle dread; hold your course until it passes. You have a chance, Purity. A slim one. Don’t throw it away.”

“I’m not talking of giving up,” said Mother. “We do have a chance, but not in this way. They’ll cut you down before those out back even know what’s happening. You’re a mighty man, Master Sparrow, but even you cannot stand against fifty spears.”

Da’s face was full of confusion. “What better plan is there?”

“
I
will face them.”

Da’s face softened. “That, love, is my task. Now ready yourself.” He turned, but Mother grasped him by the shoulder and held him back.

She had gone mad with panic and grief.

Da tried to pull her hand away.

“I will face them,” she said calmly.

“Purity,” he said. “Love.” He removed her hands and tried to stride to the door, but Mother grasped him again.

“No,” he said and removed her hand. But she took him by the rim of his breastplate and, like a man heaving a sack of meal, threw him across the room. He stumbled over a chair and slammed into the far wall.

Many men came far and wide to wrestle Da. Few had thrown him. None had handled him with such force.

Da looked at Mother, his face full of shock. He shifted his mail tunic, then tried again to reach the door. But Mother planted herself in his path. He tried to push her out of the way, but could not budge her. He renewed his efforts, his arms and neck straining. But it was to no avail.

His expression turned from shock to angry determination.

He took a step back and then lunged at her, but Mother simply stepped out of his way and with one sweep of her foot took his legs out from underneath him.

Mother reached down to take his war maul. “I will face them,” she said calmly. “Take off your armor so you can ride more easily.”

Da grasped the head of the maul. “Purity,” he said.

“I will draw them to me,” she said. “And you will ride with the children. It will be best that way. They will not be orphaned or caught and sold as chattel. You can provide for and protect them as I never could.”

“I don’t understand,” Da said.

“Yes, you do,” she said, then she tugged the maul out of his grip.

Sugar stood back, confused and alarmed.

Mother turned to her. “The way to the woods will be clear. Be ready to fly.”

Then she walked to the front door and put her hand on the crossbar. She paused, taking them all in with her gaze. “I will be waiting for you in brightness.”

She lifted the bar, and in one fluid motion she flung open the door and raced outside. Clouds of smoke billowed in. The roar of the fire above them surged. Out back, Fancy cried with wild panic.

Luckily, neither Sugar nor Legs were standing anywhere within the line of sight from the doorway, for moments later more than a dozen arrows hissed through the smoke, some sticking into the walls, others glancing off a table or chair. Da had only just gained his feet when two struck him. One glanced off his breastplate, the other hit him in the mail over his thigh. He grunted at the second, but it did not have an armor-piercing head, and the arrow fell away.

Da stood and raced after Mother, but halted at the door. He coughed at the smoke and squatted to get under it. “Goh,” he said with a look of wonder on his face.

“Da,” said Sugar and rushed to shut the door. But as she grabbed the door, she saw what Da was looking at.

Mother had already reached the soldiers. Two men lay on the grass. One was dead. The other screamed out at the wound that had nearly taken his leg.