The Hob's Bargain(45)



That the raiders were listening at all was close to miraculous... or magical. I shot a glance at the pony calmly nibbling at the grass a few paces away. There were tales of the White Beast... but I'd seen the Beast today, and he was a deer. Besides, the White Beast wouldn't wander about with a branch of mountain ash tangled comically in his forelock.

"Uneasy allies become battle comrades after the fighting is over," said the hob. "Death has no friends, and there is much that might be death coming to these lands. The wildlings are free, and they've driven men out of these lands before."

"The captain will never agree."

"Ah," said the hob, "that is so. Perhaps, though, you might think on what we've said." He pulled a small feather from his cloak. "If you wish to speak again, burn this feather. If you are in the valley, I will find you."

"In a week there won't be a village to join," said the older mercenary softly, making no move to take the feather. "I am sorry." He sounded it.

"This rout hasn't been as one-sided as you think," replied the hob. "Most of the serfs are safely hiding in the fields. They'll come in when you're gone. There are five men dead at the bridge, but most of the village horses are running in the woods. I can see to it that they return to the villagers. See what results this day has produced before you make your decision." He took the mercenary's hand and set the feather in it. "Things are changing here faster than you know. A smart man learns to be ready to change with them."

The mercenary didn't look happy, but he put the feather in a bag at his hip. Jaw set, he nodded. "I'll keep it in mind. Quilliar, come. Skyboy should have been back a while ago. Let's see if we can locate him."

I waited until the mercenaries were gone, then said, "We've got to get to Kith."

The hob nodded, took a step toward the pony, and stopped. "You'd better go alone. He'll not trust you if I'm there. Do you know where he is?"

"I think so. There's a hiding place we used when we were children. It's not far from the Fell Bridge." I hesitated a moment, then said, "Wandel is here - the harper who was with us on the trip over the Hob. He knows more about what's wrong with Kith than I do. Do you think you could find him and tell him to meet me at the cairn by Fell Bridge? I think he knows where it is."

"Your wish is my command," he said softly, taking my hand in his and kissing it, as if I were a lady. "I'll have to keep the pony, though - he won't go with you unless I do. Tell your elders I'll meet them at yon manor house tomorrow late morning."

I thought I felt the bare touch of fangs on the back of my hand for a moment when he kissed it, but that could have been my imagination.

Since I didn't know the lay of the land here very well, I'd blundered about for some time before I caught sight of the old cairn. Buried under a thicket of thorn, the old stone mound held a good defensive position. Some long-ago lord had emptied the thing of its bones and treasures to use it to store grain for his pastured horses. The village boys often spent the night there to prove how brave they were.

As I started carefully down the steep slope, I found that as long as I didn't bend my knee, it didn't hurt much. It must not be badly hurt, which was a relief, but it made my progress pretty slow.

"Now, just where do you think you're going?" The raider who stepped out from the brambles was careful not to turn his back to the cairn. He held his sword easily as he smiled.

"Does it matter?" I tried to keep my voice even, though he'd startled me badly. I moved my right hand cautiously near my knife.

"No," he said softly, approaching me with all due caution. "It doesn't matter at all."

I didn't see anything, though I'd not taken my eyes off the raider. For an instant I wondered why he fell so abruptly. Then I realized the warmth on my face was blood. Finally my eyes registered Kith, shirtless, his knife in his hand. The blood from the raider's throat covered his knife, but his movement had been so swift I hadn't caught more than a suggestion of motion.

"Kith," I said, relieved. Then I looked into his eyes.

"Berserker" they had called him, both the hob and the raider, but I hadn't thought about what it meant. The man who stood before me had nothing human left in his eyes. I'd thought that a berserker's face would be twisted with rage, but Kith's expression was mild. I had no doubt, though, that he intended to kill me.

Remembering a trick Albrin had taught me when we were trying to catch a horse someone had brutalized, I collapsed to the ground, ignoring the pain from my knee. My position had made it clear to that mare that I was no threat; I didn't know what it would mean to a man - easy prey, perhaps. I dropped my eyes from his and sang some stupid children's song, just as I had to the mare.

I'd never been so frightened in my life, not even in the cellar the day the raiders came. It wasn't just my death I was afraid of, but of what it would do to Kith if he killed me. I finished one song and started another.

"Aren?" he asked, sounding bewildered.

Some instinct kept my eyes away from him. "Yes, Kith. It's all right now. Most of them are gone. It's time to go home."

"My father," he said. "He's in the cairn. I... bandaged him, but - "

"He's alive?" Forgetting my caution, I pushed myself to my feet, swearing as I twisted my knee again. "Plague it, Kith, help me get down there."

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