Read Online I Know Not (The Story of Fox Crow) by James Daniel Ross - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Daniel Ross
Ads: Link
passing clouds, except now when they had all decided to stop barking. Even more obvious was the lack of children. Country women are either nursing, pregnant, about to become pregnant, or some combination of the three. Old children work the fields. Young children work around the house. Infants yell and play. All of them make a great deal of racket, except now when they decided to be quiet little darlings all at once.
I felt like standing up in front of a crowd and announcing my brand new motto: ‘If I ever approach a village and I hear no children and no dogs, I will not go in.’
I moved to the side of the road, almost into the field of winter rye and, slowly, I raised my hand. Theodemar followed the line made by my outstretched finger. There, far down the road near the gate in the village stockade, the grain was disturbed. Well, I say disturbed, but that is a lie, I mean it was flattened, churned like a few dozen energetic people had burst through there and stormed inside.
That’s when I discovered an addendum: ‘If I ever approach a village and I hear no children and no dogs, AND there is evidence of an armed attack, then I will not go in under any circumstances.’
I waved Theodemar over and leaned in so close my breath bounced off of his ear. “Just back off slowly. We’ll head back down to the crossroads and meet the carriage. We will take the other track.”
Theo shook his head and whispered back, far too loudly, “That will take us around the Sorrow Wood. We don’t have time before the bidding starts.”
Bidding? The lady is supposed to be negotiating a trade deal . I glanced back down and up the road. “Do you think we can skirt the village?”
As the words cart wheeled past my teeth Theo looked askance at me and I realized the answer just as he whispered, “The village is called River’s Bend. There’s only one bridge across and it’s in the middle of town.”
“Of course.” Stupid, stupid, stupid .
Of course there would be an unhappy corollary to my motto: ‘If I ever approach a village and I hear no children and no dogs, and there is evidence of an armed attack, AND I have some kind of motto that says I should make my way anywhere else, then it is an absolute certainty that I’ll have to go inside.’
I shook my head, wondering at what god in heaven or devil in hell was enjoying watching my misery. I quickly came to the decision that one of each were in a bar called limbo, having a friendly drink, and laughing at me. “Looks like Barbarians. Hang back ten paces. If you see something, shoot it and then draw your sword. If I run; don’t ask, don’t yell, just try to keep up.”
Theo nodded and rubbed his chest, obviously missing the weight of his chainmail hauberk. I clapped him on the shoulder and screwed my courage to the sticking point.
No, that is a lie .
It would be normal to say I was afraid, but not accurate. I was cautious. I was even apprehensive. I was blindingly aware of every detail, but I was not afraid. I was pretending to be for the sake of Theo, but it was not in me. The Dark Thing, half–hidden by the Fog, was muttering that this was a waste of my time, and provided no reward for moderate risk.
At least the way in would be easy: I knew the gates would be thrown open for the morning chores in the field. Harvest of this late growing crop would be chilly, it would be quick, and it would involve everybody. We passed the agitated winter rye and I could look down the corridor of trampled plants that led all the way back to the skirts of the forest. The slightly soft soil was torn up by hard boots.
We made the gate without alarm or challenge, but then the smell of rotting meat and pierced bowel wafted across our position. Theo retched far too loudly. Inside me icy cold walls sprang up, transparently separating
I felt like standing up in front of a crowd and announcing my brand new motto: ‘If I ever approach a village and I hear no children and no dogs, I will not go in.’
I moved to the side of the road, almost into the field of winter rye and, slowly, I raised my hand. Theodemar followed the line made by my outstretched finger. There, far down the road near the gate in the village stockade, the grain was disturbed. Well, I say disturbed, but that is a lie, I mean it was flattened, churned like a few dozen energetic people had burst through there and stormed inside.
That’s when I discovered an addendum: ‘If I ever approach a village and I hear no children and no dogs, AND there is evidence of an armed attack, then I will not go in under any circumstances.’
I waved Theodemar over and leaned in so close my breath bounced off of his ear. “Just back off slowly. We’ll head back down to the crossroads and meet the carriage. We will take the other track.”
Theo shook his head and whispered back, far too loudly, “That will take us around the Sorrow Wood. We don’t have time before the bidding starts.”
Bidding? The lady is supposed to be negotiating a trade deal . I glanced back down and up the road. “Do you think we can skirt the village?”
As the words cart wheeled past my teeth Theo looked askance at me and I realized the answer just as he whispered, “The village is called River’s Bend. There’s only one bridge across and it’s in the middle of town.”
“Of course.” Stupid, stupid, stupid .
Of course there would be an unhappy corollary to my motto: ‘If I ever approach a village and I hear no children and no dogs, and there is evidence of an armed attack, AND I have some kind of motto that says I should make my way anywhere else, then it is an absolute certainty that I’ll have to go inside.’
I shook my head, wondering at what god in heaven or devil in hell was enjoying watching my misery. I quickly came to the decision that one of each were in a bar called limbo, having a friendly drink, and laughing at me. “Looks like Barbarians. Hang back ten paces. If you see something, shoot it and then draw your sword. If I run; don’t ask, don’t yell, just try to keep up.”
Theo nodded and rubbed his chest, obviously missing the weight of his chainmail hauberk. I clapped him on the shoulder and screwed my courage to the sticking point.
No, that is a lie .
It would be normal to say I was afraid, but not accurate. I was cautious. I was even apprehensive. I was blindingly aware of every detail, but I was not afraid. I was pretending to be for the sake of Theo, but it was not in me. The Dark Thing, half–hidden by the Fog, was muttering that this was a waste of my time, and provided no reward for moderate risk.
At least the way in would be easy: I knew the gates would be thrown open for the morning chores in the field. Harvest of this late growing crop would be chilly, it would be quick, and it would involve everybody. We passed the agitated winter rye and I could look down the corridor of trampled plants that led all the way back to the skirts of the forest. The slightly soft soil was torn up by hard boots.
We made the gate without alarm or challenge, but then the smell of rotting meat and pierced bowel wafted across our position. Theo retched far too loudly. Inside me icy cold walls sprang up, transparently separating
Similar Books
