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Authors: Basement Blues
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dust.
Eventually he straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of one shaking hand, his eyes filling with tears of disgust and sheer relief. He limped away from his mess and leaned briefly against the corner of the house, calming his breathing and trying to think.
He had to keep this secret until he could get to someone outside of the village, unless he wished to join the tinker woman under the wood, for there was nobody other than Anna he could trust – and going to his aunt would be the death of them both.
She was a good woman, but she would tell her husband – and Garth was one of the men who spent time with Scrout, drinking his poison down with the ale.
Anna had started showing a lot of bruises, since Scrout came home.
There was no horse or mule in the village, he would have to walk, and market day in the big town wasn’t for another week.
He wouldn’t get five larna before Scrout caught him and dragged him back – if he bothered to do so, and didn’t just cut his throat and leave him the forest for the scavengers to feast on.
And Scrout would come after him, he knew; the man was mean, and probably crazy as well, but he was cunning. He would know why Ricky had gone, with the self-preserving instinct that drove his kind.
Go with Anna. She always goes for market day, sells her pies and bread there. Go to the hawks .
‘Oh, Goddess.’ He felt his heart thud dully in his chest at the thought.
Go to the hawks, or stay here, with Scrout, and pretend you know nothing.
Not an option.
He could avoid the man as much as possible for a week. But for the rest of his life? Could he spend it pretending he didn’t know, hadn’t seen?
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Her dusty, open eyes, asking him if he was really just going to pile that wood over her face and leave her there for the ants and the flies to feast upon.
Ricky shuddered.
And that was the way things sat in the village of Five Hands for the next few days.
Until the morning Dakron ripped his clothes off in the middle of the street and tore screaming into the shed, where he found two of his drinking cronies having a quiet game of dice.
Chapter 3
B right Lance squad had been at weapons drill for most of the morning when the message came that there was a lad in the Keep looking for the hawks.
Bright Lance squad had the closest practice yard, and was currently off-duty, so the message had come to Ariaan, the squad captain.
“He won’t say anything else, ser,” the human recruit who carried the summons said to him. “He’s a bit young, like, but stubborn. Says he needs the hawks and won’t say boo to anyone else.”
Ariaan grunted, wiping his face and hands with a bit of cloth. It was a hot, bright day, and they’d been hard at work from early that morning.
“Right, then. Call those two,” he nodded at Amber and Seiren, seemingly intent on skewering each other on the other side of the practice yard, “and send the lad to me in my quarters in, say, fifteen minutes.”
By the look on the young recruit’s face, it would take him nearly half that time to interrupt the hawks.
Ariaan bit back his impatience.
“Watch them for a few minutes, pick up a few pointers,” he said instead, and saw open relief in the young man’s eyes.
Sweet Mother, what do they teach their children about us?
‘ Try not to ignore him for too long, aye?’ He sent to the other two, whom he knew cursed well had been fully aware of his conversation, as had every hawk in the yard.
Hawk ears are sharp at the best of times, and a message sent during a practice session was unusual enough to have every pointed pair twitching, though politeness alone wouldn’t let them show it.
He sighed, shaking his head, and made his way into the building.
Sheer curiosity meant that his seconds waited a bare two minutes before turning to the nervous youngster watching them in the
Eventually he straightened, wiping his mouth with the back of one shaking hand, his eyes filling with tears of disgust and sheer relief. He limped away from his mess and leaned briefly against the corner of the house, calming his breathing and trying to think.
He had to keep this secret until he could get to someone outside of the village, unless he wished to join the tinker woman under the wood, for there was nobody other than Anna he could trust – and going to his aunt would be the death of them both.
She was a good woman, but she would tell her husband – and Garth was one of the men who spent time with Scrout, drinking his poison down with the ale.
Anna had started showing a lot of bruises, since Scrout came home.
There was no horse or mule in the village, he would have to walk, and market day in the big town wasn’t for another week.
He wouldn’t get five larna before Scrout caught him and dragged him back – if he bothered to do so, and didn’t just cut his throat and leave him the forest for the scavengers to feast on.
And Scrout would come after him, he knew; the man was mean, and probably crazy as well, but he was cunning. He would know why Ricky had gone, with the self-preserving instinct that drove his kind.
Go with Anna. She always goes for market day, sells her pies and bread there. Go to the hawks .
‘Oh, Goddess.’ He felt his heart thud dully in his chest at the thought.
Go to the hawks, or stay here, with Scrout, and pretend you know nothing.
Not an option.
He could avoid the man as much as possible for a week. But for the rest of his life? Could he spend it pretending he didn’t know, hadn’t seen?
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. Her dusty, open eyes, asking him if he was really just going to pile that wood over her face and leave her there for the ants and the flies to feast upon.
Ricky shuddered.
And that was the way things sat in the village of Five Hands for the next few days.
Until the morning Dakron ripped his clothes off in the middle of the street and tore screaming into the shed, where he found two of his drinking cronies having a quiet game of dice.
Chapter 3
B right Lance squad had been at weapons drill for most of the morning when the message came that there was a lad in the Keep looking for the hawks.
Bright Lance squad had the closest practice yard, and was currently off-duty, so the message had come to Ariaan, the squad captain.
“He won’t say anything else, ser,” the human recruit who carried the summons said to him. “He’s a bit young, like, but stubborn. Says he needs the hawks and won’t say boo to anyone else.”
Ariaan grunted, wiping his face and hands with a bit of cloth. It was a hot, bright day, and they’d been hard at work from early that morning.
“Right, then. Call those two,” he nodded at Amber and Seiren, seemingly intent on skewering each other on the other side of the practice yard, “and send the lad to me in my quarters in, say, fifteen minutes.”
By the look on the young recruit’s face, it would take him nearly half that time to interrupt the hawks.
Ariaan bit back his impatience.
“Watch them for a few minutes, pick up a few pointers,” he said instead, and saw open relief in the young man’s eyes.
Sweet Mother, what do they teach their children about us?
‘ Try not to ignore him for too long, aye?’ He sent to the other two, whom he knew cursed well had been fully aware of his conversation, as had every hawk in the yard.
Hawk ears are sharp at the best of times, and a message sent during a practice session was unusual enough to have every pointed pair twitching, though politeness alone wouldn’t let them show it.
He sighed, shaking his head, and made his way into the building.
Sheer curiosity meant that his seconds waited a bare two minutes before turning to the nervous youngster watching them in the
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