“Bax is a fool,” Mirela said. “We do not send children to war. Neither do we kill them when our enemies do, if we can in any way help it. If he did not see his brother die, then he is still alive.”
“But we’d never be able to convince him of that,” Dane said.
She was silent. She winced again and let her breath out in a slow sigh. “So where does that leave us?” she said. “Bax loves me too much to get rid of me and you can’t get over me.”
“There is another way,” Dane said. “An older way.”
She looked up at him quickly. “What are you talking about?”
“I could challenge him to single combat.”
“Fighting over me like two animals in rut. I’d be flattered.”
“It wouldn’t be like that,” he said. “I’d be fighting for your freedom.”
“My freedom?” She sniffed. “I’d have the run of the whole island, huh?”
He ached for her. He was hardly more free than she was. But he did not like her reminding him how powerless he was to help her. To truly help her.
“No,” she said. “That is not the way.”
He leaned closer to her. “I know I could kill Bax.”
She did something then that surprised him so much he had trouble forming words for the next minute. She put her hand to his cheek and looked him steadily in the eyes. “Kill Bax? How much time have you spent thinking about this?” She took her hand away. “Don’t you think I’ve had plenty of chances to kill him?”
“But if you did it, you’d be killed. If I did it, you’d be free.”
“Killed? Do you think that threatens me? Don’t you realize there are many times I prefer death to the way I live?”
“You’d be free,” he said.
“Free? And what would happen to you? Even if you were unscathed in body, what would it do to you? To kill the best friend of your childhood?”
“We were never that close.”
She almost smiled. “Lies can’t cover up something so clear. I think in his own way he still admires you, adores you. I think that’s why he hates you so much.”
“I don’t need your permission to do this,” he said. “I can do it of my own will, for myself, something between me and Bax.”
“Would you do it regardless of what I felt?” she asked. “Would you do it knowing I would not buy my freedom at the cost of another’s life? Not even one such as Bax.”
“Why do you have to make this so impossible?”
She brought her hand to his face again. “The situation is impossible, Dane. But it’s not beyond hope.” Her face changed suddenly, grimacing as though in pain, and she doubled over, bringing both hands to her stomach.
He caught hold of her and held her but did not force her to stand. Instead he dropped nearly to his knees so that he was looking into her face. “You need to see Leech.”
“I need to be going,” she said, straightening. “Bax will be waiting.”
***
Rawl was up on the wall. He thought it must be about midnight but he wasn’t sure. He was on the eastern side of the wall, Joseph was on the north, Rundal on the west, and Ira on the south. Forsythe had supposed to have been watch captain this shift but Ira had taken his place since Forsythe would be steersman for Dane’s trip to Tira tomorrow. News of the trip had already leaked out. But Dane was only taking a handpicked crew, and, like always, Rawl wasn’t one of them. Rawl tried to focus on the task at hand. Maybe if he excelled at the little things he could one day hope to be picked for missions like sailing to Tira.
Suddenly, from down in the courtyard, one of the dogs began to bark. Rawl turned to look. By walking a little ways northward along the wall he got around the houses that blocked his view so he could see the dog. It was Tipper’s dog, Dioji, the best dog of the company in Rawl’s opinion. Dioji was pacing back and forth across the north gate, sometimes with his nose to the ground, other times looking right at the solid timbers of the gate and snarling, other times rearing up and placing his forepaws on the gate and snapping and barking. Rawl watched Tipper come out of the barracks and try to calm his dog. Dioji continued his assault on the gate. Tipper took him by the collar and dragged him to the stables, which stood nearby. He tied Dioji to a staple set in one of the stall walls. The dog continued to lunge towards the gate.
Rawl trotted down to the north end where Joseph stood above the gate.
“That dog’s going crazy, huh?” Joseph said.
“Yeah,” Rawl said. “What do you see out there?” He nodded toward the forest.
“I don’t see anything,” Joseph said.
Rawl scanned the darkness beneath the trees. He did not see anything either. After a moment he turned back towards his own post. As he started back, the other dogs started howling and barking and snarling. Rawl had not made it halfway back when a new sound, far worse than the first, rose to join the cacophonous chorus. The sound was one of agony and fear. It was coming from inside the compound. It was the sound of a man screaming.
Rawl’s eyes darted around, trying to locate the source in the dark courtyard. It was coming from the holding cell. Rawl raced to the nearest ladder and slid down it. As he charged across the courtyard the screams continued.
“No, no, no.” Then inarticulate shrieks of pain or fear. Though it was too dark to see into the cell, Rawl knew the voice was Aaron’s.
Rundal beat him to the door of the cell and began banging on the bars. “What’s going on in there?” he shouted.
“Move,” Rawl said, shoving him aside more roughly than was necessary.
The cell door had no key-lock but only a long bolt that could not be drawn from within. Rawl released the catch and slid the bolt out and opened the door. It was so dark he could see only vague forms. He could make out Aaron’s figure of as it writhed on the floor. Rawl threw himself on top of Aaron, pinning his arms with his hands and his legs with one knee. Aaron continued to whip his head back and forth.
“Aaron,” Rawl shouted. “Aaron, wake up.”
Now it was Rawl’s turn to be pushed aside. Rundal knocked him aside with his knee and doused Aaron’s face and chest with a bucket of water. Aaron lurched up spluttering.
“What is wrong with you?” Rawl asked.
For a moment, Aaron was breathing too hard to answer. “Joseph?” he finally said. “Where’s Joseph?”
“He’s up on the wall,” Rawl said.
“But he’s alright?”
“Yes, he’s fine. What’s the matter with you?”
Aaron seemed to relax. He sat back, leaning on his elbows. “Then it was only a dream?”
“What are you talking about?”
Aaron looked into Rawl’s eyes. Aaron’s eyes were like two pits ringed in white. The look of them was so discomfiting Rawl looked away.
“I dreamed They were here,” Aaron said. “I saw Them.”
He hesitated and Rawl made himself look him in the eyes. “Them?”
Aaron’s voice was so low, Rawl thought at first he’d heard wrong. “What did you say?”
“They killed him,” Aaron said. “They killed Joseph.”
Rundal chuckled. He stepped out of the cell and shouted to the wall. “Hey, Joseph, you still there?”
“Here,” Joseph called back.
“You’ve got Embries worked up into a real lather down here.”
“You staying warm enough in here?” Rawl asked Aaron.
Aaron nodded. Rawl exited the cell and relocked the door. “I’ll get you a dry shirt,” he said through the bars.
Rundal was still shouting at Joseph, who had turned around to face them. “I don’t know what I’d be more worried about,” Rundal said. “The fact he saw you dead or the fact he’s screaming your name in his sleep. Joseph, oh, Joseph.” Rundal moved his hips back and forth, mixing anguish and passion in his voice.
In the light of the torch that burned beside him on the wall, Rawl could see Joseph’s face flooding with color. That’s when Rawl remembered the dogs. Th
ey were still barking and snarling. “Be quiet, Rundal,” Rawl said.
Rundal turned towards him. “What’s the matter? The dogs’re making more noise than I am.”
“That’s what’s worrying me,” Rawl started to say, but he never finished his sentence because at that moment several things happened at once.
Dane and Bailus emerged at the same time from their respective rooms; Dioji dropped to the ground in mid-lunge and backed away on his belly, whimpering with his tail between his legs; and the torch beside Joseph was snuffed out like a candle.
“Joseph, look out,” Rawl screamed, for with the extinguishing of the torch a dark shape swung over the wall directly behind his friend.
Joseph spun, swinging his crossbow with him, but the figure blocked the bow with its body. For a moment the two men stood there, it looked almost as if they were embracing, their figures nearly indistinguishable from one another. The thing that had come over the wall was dressed all in black so that it was almost impossible to pick out its form from the backdrop of dark trees that towered beyond the wall.
Rawl had already pump-loaded his crossbow and brought it to his shoulder but the two combatants were too close together and too far from him to risk a shot. He was vaguely aware of Dane tearing up the stairs. In the time it took Rawl to try sighting his shot and realize it was hopeless, it was over.
The darkman struck Joseph on the side of the head, whether with some weapon or with only its fist Rawl never knew. Joseph gave a grunt and slid heavily to the floor as the black figure released him and disappeared over the wall.
Dane reached Joseph first. Joseph was lying face down on the cold planks of the wall-walk. Dane rolled him over. One look at his face and Dane knew he was dead. But he couldn’t believe it. He pulled back Joseph’s cloak and inspected his body. There were no wounds, no blood. Dane had seen men so lacerated in battles their bodies were no longer recognizable as those of men. He might have taken the wholeness of Joseph’s body as a mercy but instead it only mocked him. It seemed Dane should be able to call him back to life, as though merely waking him from sleep, if he could only find the right words. Joseph’s eyes, already clouding, were staring sightlessly at the stars above them. Looking at the passive, almost peaceful expression on his face, Dane rejoiced for one second that Joseph’s spirit was already far from this place.
Then he rose to his feet. He was already shaking. Rawl had gained the wall short seconds after Dane had. The young man swung his bow out over the parapet, scouring the tree line, swore, kicked the battlement, and dropped to his knees beside Dane. Bailus and Rundal and Leech joined them on the wall-walk at nearly the same time.
“You idiot,” Rawl shouted, rounding on Rundal. “If you hadn’t been shouting at him he never would have turned his back on the woods.”
Rundal just stood there as Rawl threw him against the wall and drove his knee into his gut. Rawl pinned him with one arm and kept shouting, “You killed him, you killed him,” punctuating every sentence with a blow to Rundal’s stomach with his free hand.
Rundal, his head hung, let Rawl tear into him, giving little grunts with every blow Rawl landed.
Dane stepped past them like a sleepwalker.
“They were grappling; that man that came over the wall only landed one blow, as I saw,” Bailus was telling Leech behind him.
“One blow to the side of the head is all it takes if it lands just right,” Leech said.
Dane dropped down the stairs, and when his feet hit the hardpan of the courtyard something finally snapped inside him and he was fully awake. He ran to his room, shoved the door open, and picked up his crossbow. He ran for the gate. Leech, who had seen him sprint to his room, came flying down the stairs. He caught Dane as he was drawing the bolt on the small gate in the north of the wall. He hit Dane with his full momentum and knocked him nearly off his feet.
“Leave me alone,” Dane said.
Leech hardly recognized his voice.
Dane lunged for the bolt. Leech got between him and the gate and Dane smashed him against it. The burs of the rough timber digging into his back, Leech shoved Dane away.
“I can’t let you do this,” he said, when Dane had regained his footing.
For a second both men stood facing each other. “Get out of my way,” Dane said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Dane, I know you’re upset, but this won’t fix anything.”
“Upset? Upset? I swear to Kran I’ll kill every last one of them.”
“You’d never find them now.”
“They’re still out there; I know it.”
He started for the door again and Leech sighed and got in his way once more. Dane was the stronger man but Leech was desperate and determined and Dane’s left arm was hindered by his death-grip on his crossbow. Dane drove Leech against the wall by sheer force, but Leech managed to wrap his arms around Dane, pinning his arms to his side, and held on. Dane continued shoving with his legs, knocking his friend against the gate as though he meant to use his body to batter it down.
“He trusted me,” Dane said, his voice was starting to crack and he could feel hot tears in his eyes. “He trusted me to get him out of this.”
“What about all the others who are trusting you for the same thing? What’ll happen to them? Who will lead us after you run off into the woods? Bailus? Bax?”
“Let me go.”
“Don’t you see that’s exactly what they want?”
“It’s what I want.”
As Dane crouched back for another thrust with his legs, Leech twisted and flung himself forward, spinning Dane off balance and driving him to the ground. Leech sprung back to his feet and got between Dane and the gate once more. But Dane just lay there on his back looking up at the sky and gulping down air. His knees were bent and his feet were drawn up close to his body. Leech, leaning back against the gate, slid down to a sitting position. He took several deep breaths before he spoke. “There’ll be chances to avenge Joseph. But if you go running off like this it’s only to escape your own hurt and fear, and we’ll all pay for it.”
Dane did not even acknowledge he had heard him. He just lay there, his only movement the rise and fall of his chest. He made no sound, but Leech saw tears running from the corner of his eye under his temple.
Looking up, Leech saw Bailus standing a short ways off in silence. He was watching them.
After what seemed like years, Dane got up silently, picked up his crossbow, and walked back to his room. He shut the door behind him.
Leech glanced at Bailus. The older man seemed to sway on his feet, but Leech thought it was only his own weariness and the tears in his own eyes that made him see this.
Leech looked at the back of his hands, crisscrossed with cuts and scrapes from being dashed against the timbers of wall and gate. He studied the lines as though they were a map that might help him find a way forward. He did not know whether he had done a good thing or a bad thing. He was too tired to feel one way or another about it. He pulled his feet under him and stood up. Beside him Bailus made a funny sighing noise. Leech looked at him, and as he did, Bailus’s knees buckled and he collapsed.
XVI
Fools’ Errand
Dane was seated at his hearth, leaning forward, staring into the embers, lost in himself, when a knock sounded at his door. He rose slowly. Good news never came at this time of night. Not on this island. Maybe not on this planet. He opened the door to Rawl Johnson.
“Sir,” the young man said, stepping back as though the opening of the door had surprised him.
Dane just stood there, waiting for it, like a lamb in a slaughterhouse.
“Sir, its Bailus. He’s with Leech in the infirmary.”
Dane nodded. He was not sure what he intended this action to mean. Whether he had expected it or whether he would follow Rawl there immediately. At any rate, he expected Rawl to depart with it. But Rawl did not depart; he stood there looking like he was trying to figure out how to say something more. Dane gave him
no encouragement or hindrance; he just waited patiently.
“Mara’s there, too. We thought you should know.”
It was more how Rawl said it than what he said that allowed Dane to catch his meaning. Rawl turned on his heels and headed off in the direction of the infirmary. Dane followed him, not even bothering to close the door behind him.
Rawl held the door to the infirmary open for him and looked away as he stepped in. Bailus was in the bed closest to the door. His eyes were closed. “Bailus,” Dane said, stepping to the bedside.
Leech came up beside him. “He’s unconscious. But maybe it’s better this way. He’d never let me near him otherwise.”
“What happened?”
“His wound had opened up again. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d been wearing dark clothing to try to hide it from me.”
“Will he be alright?”
“I don’t know, Dane. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Dane lifted his eyes and saw Mirela. He caught his breath. He felt something tearing loose inside of him. She was lying under several blankets in one of the beds closest to the fire. She was lying on her side and was curled almost into a ball. She looked so small and vulnerable. Had it only been a few days ago that he had pulled the bed up to the hearth for her? It seemed years ago. He felt he was looking at a different woman. He glanced around the room once before looking back to her. Elias sat in a chair beneath the room’s only window. Bax was conspicuously absent.
Leech spoke beside him; he had seen where his friend was staring. “It’s the baby, Dane. She’s losing it.”
“Is there nothing you can do?”
“Not for the child.”
“But for her?”
“Nothing more than we’re already doing.”
Dane did not remember crossing the room. He only remembered kneeling at her bedside. Josie had been sitting beside her, holding her hand. How had he not noticed her before? She slid silently aside as he came up. He took Mirela’s hand in his. It was warm, and he was grateful for that, but he wondered if it was only the lingering effect of Josie’s touch. Her eyes fluttered open and then closed and remained closed. She smiled weakly. Something caught in his throat and he swallowed it down.
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