Plow and Sword
Page 4
“Aw, Pa,” protested Fren. Then he punched his brother in the shoulder and challenged him to race back to the house. Only when they were halfway back did Beeah step up.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “How—?” She looked at Suvarian, then jerked away from the gory sight.
“No one threatens my family or my land.”
Fear widened her eyes—fear of her husband.
“We have work to do.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut once more as she shook her head.
“I’ll plow. When the boys are done with the house, send them back. There will be work for them in the fields.”
“He was a lord,” she said, her voice cracked with emotion. “He will have an heir.”
“He was nothing but a brigand.”
“Someone else will come. If not his heir, then another in his company. What will we do then?”
Rorr looked at his wife and held up the shovel. She recoiled. He drove the blade into the ground, then heaved the dirt high into the air. Wind caught the soil and scattered it. Beeah backed off, then almost ran to the farmhouse.
Rorr took a deep breath, threw the shovel aside, and went to harness the plow horse. It took close to a half-hour to return to the field with the horse dutifully pulling the plow. Rorr spit on his hands and bent forward to guide the plow. There was real work to be done.
He didn’t even look up when the cougar howled in the distance.