Hobgoblins didn’t. They lived wild until someone or something killed them. Most of the ones Ree had seen were alone, the only things like them. Except for the snow bears, of course. Maybe several bears got caught in the same magic circle and then bred, but there seemed to be lots of those.
There was a kind of wolf creature that bred, too and hunted in packs. Ree hoped they’d never see any of those again. They were nastier than the snow bears, and there were more of them. But most of the hobgoblins were the only ones and couldn’t breed with anything even if they wanted to. He didn’t want to. All he wanted was Jem. And they already had Amelie to look after.
After a dinner eaten in silence, while Garrad, Lenar, and Jem traded cold looks, Ree excused himself and left to put Amelie to bed. He made up the spare bed with fresh sheets and obligingly turned his back while she changed out of her day clothes into a nightdress of soft wool that Jem had bought her. Once she was tucked in, he folded her clothes for her and set her boots at the foot of the bed, then blew out the lantern. He and Jem knew the room well enough to come in here without any light at all, and it wasn’t that dark. Ree’s cat-eyes could see everything from the patched plaster to the chests of bedding.
He closed the door softly and padded toward the kitchen. He’d just tell Garrad good night and go to bed.
But halfway through the great room he heard Jem’s voice. “Not going to ‘put it down.’ ‘It’ is Ree, and he’s saved all our lives.”
Ree froze as Lenar growled back—sounding like Garrad when he was angry or hurt. “That thing isn’t safe, damn it! None of them are. They turn on their owners, or you find dead men in alleys with their throats torn out.”
For a moment, Ree couldn’t breathe. Dead men in alleys with their throats torn out. . . . The memory returned to him. Gods above, he’d only been trying to protect himself! And then he’d found Jem and realized what the bastard had been doing. He couldn’t regret killing that man. It had brought Jem into his life, and Jem had called back the human part of him and stopped him from being all animal.
“Some men hurt and kill other men for fun.” Jem said in that cold voice that meant he was so angry he was shaking. “You don’t kill every man because of it. You don’t kill every dog because someone tormented or starved one until he turned.”
“It’s not a man and it’s not an animal,” Lenar said stubbornly. “It’s a magic-made unnatural thing!”
“So’s that lamp up there, son,” Garrad said. “You going to destroy it, too?”
Lenar made a sound of disgust. “Sure. It hoodwinked you too. No wonder they’re talking about hobgoblins ruling here and making the people their slaves.”
Ree didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The trick he’d used to scare the soldiers away, using everyone’s fear of hobgoblins to make them think he was a terrible creature who was ready to eat them right there, had stopped other people trying to bring soldiers in. And it made Garrad’s son think hobgoblins were secret lords here.
“I ain’t hoodwinked, boy. Ree has lived here for two years. He’s as human as you and I, fur face or not.”
Lenar didn’t get a chance to answer, because Jem started, his voice tight with fury. “You think your father’s an idiot? You think he’d let something dangerous stay with him?” He was on a right tear, and he was going to say what he thought, no matter what. “Gods above. I love Ree. Ree and I . . . we’re closer than brothers and always will be. He’s never hurt me, and he’s gotten hurt for me. I’m no idiot, and I don’t think anyone could be that close to someone for more than two years and not know who they really are and if animal or man.”
Ree’s throat tightened, and his chest hurt. His eyes burned so much he had to blink to keep them clear. Jem couldn’t know what he was saying or how a man like Lenar would react. He couldn’t. His pride in their love made his heart want to burst, but he was afraid now they’d both be thrown out into the cold night.
Lenar made a choked sound, then a disgusted one. “What do you know about love, boy? That is not only male, it’s not even human.”
“You’d better believe Ree’s human,” Jem snarled. “He’s better than damn near all men I’ve ever seen.”
Jem stomped from the kitchen in full high and mighty temper, very pointedly not slamming the kitchen door and walked past him, not seeing him in the dark of the great room, after the light of the lantern in the kitchen. Before Ree could speak, Jem opened the door to their bedroom and went inside, closing the door softly behind him.
Ree closed his eyes. He should go to bed too. The chores would still be there tomorrow, and no matter what Garrad’s son thought about him, stalls still needed mucking out and cattle needed milking. Garrad would probably be kept busy with his son, so it would be Ree doing the milking. And he doubted Lenar or his fancy guards would do any of it, so they’d better think twice about throwing him or Jem out. Or Amelie, for that matter.
Garrad’s voice echoed, calmer and full of dry amusement. “You ain’t making a good showing of yourself, son.”
Lenar sounded as though he felt a bit guilty when he said, “I know, Father. I shouldn’t . . .” He cleared his throat. “The thing is . . . I think . . . your Jem might be my son.”
“I thought he might be,” Garrad said. “Your by-blow or my brother’s, only my brother was never that much interested in women, you know.”
Ree raised his eyebrows, wondering how Lenar would respond to that, but Lenar just sounded resigned. “I got married in Jacona, nearly seventeen years ago now. I thought I was going to be posted there until I was old enough to retire. I was already an officer. I was going to bring her to see you as soon as I got leave. Pretty little merchant’s daughter. Myrrine.” He made a sound half sob, half laugh. “She was expecting when my division was sent south to deal with a minor uprising. We were going to call my son Jem, after her late father. We were gone nearly five years, and when I came back I couldn’t find her.” There was real pain in his voice, real anguish. “Nothing I did . . . I thought she must have died, and the baby. It was a miracle for him to get here, somehow . . . And he’s attached himself to that thing. How can he be happy with that? How can he not want a family, children of his own?” He paused. “Do they . . . do they sleep together?”
“There’s two beds in that room,” Garrad said. “And they use one. But it ain’t none of my business, and it’s not yours either, son, leastways unless they tell you.” Garrad just sounded matter-of-fact when he said, “They ain’t said much about it, but I reckon Ree saved Jem from a lot worse than just dying back in that city. There’s a look Jem gets sometimes, and when he’s sick, he talks in his sleep, and some of what he says would curdle your blood.” A short silence, as though Garrad shrugged. “And when Jem talks in his sleep and calls his mama, sometimes he says Myrrine.”
“Then he is mine,” Lenar said. “He’s all I got. He can’t live with that—that—I’ll never have grandchildren.”
“And you’re all I got, and I thought you were dead.” Garrad’s dry amusement came back. “Did you have him because you wanted to have grandchildren?”
“No, I was young, I—”
“You’re still young, son. And even if you weren’t, it don’t justify making Jem into something he ain’t. ’Sides, Ree and Jem . . . Ree brought Jem in, and Jem was dying of consumption. Ree risked getting killed so he could bring Jem in to get help. And then he helped me too. I’d tripped and fallen on that damn rug your mother made, and Ree nursed me and Jem both. Then they both worked hard as any ten men to get the farm back working again. Fact is, if you were to kick them out tonight, I’d have to sell most of my animals and give them the money. They bought those animals with the furs of the creatures they killed in the forest. And they never asked for anything.”
“It’s not right, Father,” Lenar insisted. “It’s just not. I mean, it’s not like I didn’t see enough of it in the army, but . . . with an animal?”
“Ree ain’t an animal.”
Ree couldn’t list
en any more. There was too much, and all it made him think was that Lenar was right. Who knew when the animal would take over?
He padded across to the bedroom and slipped inside. Jem sounded like he was asleep, and Amelie too. The old painting on the wall, of Garrad and his brother when they’d been young, made Ree think about families and how he couldn’t have one, not of his body. Nor would Jem as long as they were together. The two young men in the old picture looked happy and relaxed, and so like Jem it hurt.
Ree felt as if something inside him had frozen. Carefully he removed his clothes, all of them, even the boots with their warm felted lining. Jem belonged here. It was Ree who was in the way, Ree who would be a problem for them all the time. Ree who would make Jem’s life difficult. He touched Jem’s face, where it curved in the moonlight, and felt the close-shaved blond beard. The idea of never touching Jem again, never seeing Jem again made him hurt deep inside. But it was just him. He was a hobgoblin. They had no real feelings. Not like people.
“Ree, get in bed,” Jem said and smiled a little, but he didn’t wake up. Not fully. He didn’t move as Ree left the room.
Ree had forgotten how miserable cold he could get, even through his fur. He ached with it, and his feet hurt with each step on the frozen ground. Instead of going far into the forest, he curled in one of the abandoned burrows near the farm. He shivered and dozed till first light, and then he thought he should hunt.
A rabbit, he thought. They were sort of a fuzzier smell than cats and not musky like foxes. He was starving. But he remembered how nasty raw rabbit was, and it made his stomach clench and bitter bile come to the back of his throat.
Some wild hobgoblin he was. Hobgoblins did not use fire. They were animals. But his stomach refused to believe him, and he knew better than to force it. Later. When he was hungry enough.
He’d managed before, hadn’t he? There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t do it again. Let Garrad and Lenar and Jem be a family, without him in the way. There were enough places to hide and not be seen if anyone came looking for him.
His feet were so cold they hurt, and he felt every stone and fallen branch underfoot. His toe claws kept catching on frozen ground, until he thought he’d wrenched them. And no matter how hard he told himself it was better for everyone this way, and he’d get used to living wild, he couldn’t make himself believe it. He already missed Jem.
It was a relief when the long, lonely day faded to darkness and he could find an empty burrow and try to sleep.
A scream sounded, startling Ree awake.
Someone was in trouble. Ree scrabbled from the burrow and raced toward the scream. He ran blindly through the trees, then stopped.
Lenar was ahead of him fighting something. Something invisible.
A snow bear. Ree approached, carefully. He wouldn’t be able to see it unless he was right up close or it got in front of something dark.
Though Lenar knew how to use his sword, the creature was bigger and stronger than he was and would kill him and eat him. It took two people to kill snow bears. He and Jem hunted together. As he thought this, he had launched himself toward the creature’s back.
Ree scrambled to climb up, digging his finger and toe claws into the snow bear’s fur while it swung wildly, trying to dislodge the annoyance. Blood sprayed over the snow, shockingly red against white.
He wrapped one arm around the creature’s head, going by feel to get his claws into its eyes. It howled in agony, rearing to its full height. Lenar struck. His sword went all the way into the snowbear’s chest and came out the back, nearly skewering Ree as well.
Ree jumped off and rolled to the side while the creature collapsed. In the time it took him to climb to his feet and shake snow off his fur, Lenar had pulled his sword free and was staring at the snow bear with a grimace. He glared up at Ree. “Damn fool old man was out at first light chasing after you,” he said. “If there’s more like this, he’s probably got himself killed, and that damn stubborn young pup with him.”
Lenar wiped his sword on the snow bear. “I came looking for them both.” He gave Ree another sharp look. “That thing was waiting for me.”
“They do that.” Ree looked around, hoping that there would be tracks, something he could use to find Jem and Garrad. “You can’t even smell the damn things.” It was too confused here, with the snowbear’s musk and blood, but a little farther on he saw the rounded hole of Garrad’s walking stick and two sets of footsteps. “This way.”
Lenar didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t argue with Ree leading, only gave him more of those long, searching looks. “You’re like no hobgoblin I’ve seen,” he said.
“No,” Ree said. “You see, Jem thinks I’m human. He . . . I think he made me human, he’s so stubborn.” It sounded dumb, but Ree didn’t really care what Lenar thought. He had to find Jem and Garrad and get them home safe.
When he heard snarls in the distance, he started to run. It didn’t sound like snow bears, more like the wolf things. That was bad.
Lenar kept up with him. Ree couldn’t run too fast over the rough ground. Lenar didn’t answer when Ree told him about the wolf things and how the best way to stop them was to kill the queen bitch, because she ruled the pack and they’d be lost if she died. The queen bitch was always the biggest one, sometimes twice as big as the others, and she was usually all white, where the rest of the pack were gray and white.
Jem and Garrad were back to back, Jem using a pitchfork and Garrad his walking stick to keep the pack off them. The pack was playing still, wearing them down for the kill.
Ree slammed into the pack, throwing one of the smaller wolf creatures aside. The smaller ones were maybe hip high at the shoulder, long and lean with jaws that could crack bones and wicked curved teeth. The queen was almost as tall as Ree and more muscular than her packmates.
That didn’t stop Ree from jumping on her and holding on with his knees and toe claws while he scrambled for her eyes with one hand and her throat with another. He had gotten a good hold when one of the creatures crashed into him, and they all went tumbling. Ree felt flesh tear under his fingers, and at the same time he realized that his back and side hurt. The damn wolf goblin must have clawed him. It wasn’t moving now, though.
The pack ran, fast, deep into the woods. They’d be harmless until they found another queen.
It took him a while to pull himself free, what with his claws tangled in the pack queen’s fur and flesh and trying not to get the other hobgoblin’s claws any deeper into him when he moved.
Ree shuddered. He forced himself to look at Jem and Garrad. They weren’t hurt. Garrad stood and leaned on his walking stick, breathing heavily, while Jem and Lenar made sure that the wolf queen was indeed dead.
Garrad glared at him. “What possessed you to run off like that, Ree?”
Ree swallowed. “I don’t belong.” It was harder than he thought to say that. “I . . . Jem should have children. He doesn’t need me.”
“You’re a stubborn proud young cuss is what you are. Seems to me that kind of stubborn is right at home in my family.” Garrad sounded more like his normal self now. “What about Jem, then? Do you know how much he missed you, just one day? Did you ask him if he needed you?”
“But . . . you’ve got your family now. Why would you want me?” Why would anyone want him, really? He might turn bad, forget being human even though he didn’t want to.
“You’re going to tell me who my family is now, boy?” Garrad asked looking stubborn. “You’re family if I say you are.”
And now Lenar was glaring at him. He still looked furious, but somehow it was all different. “Family’s people who look after each other and fight for each other, too.” He shook his head. “And I guess love each other.” He pushed Jem toward Ree. “Help your young man, son. He needs to get those wounds seen to.”
As Jem’s arm came around him, supporting him, Ree could swear Jem said under his breath, “My damn stubborn young man.”
It was the best thing he�
��d ever been called.
Nothing Better to Do
by Tanya Huff
Tanya Huff lives and writes in rural Ontario with her partner, Fiona Patton and nine cats. One more and they officially qualify as crazy cat ladies. Her twenty-fifth novel, The Enchantment Emporium, a stand-alone urban fantasy, was recently published by DAW Books. In her spare time she practices barre chords instead of painting the bathroom.
Jors stiffened in the saddle, head cocked. He could hear bird song. The wind humming in the upper canopy, leaves and twigs rubbing together as percussion. Small animals moving in the underbrush.
:Chosen?: Gervais turned to stare back over his shoulder with one sapphire eye.
:I thought I heard a baby crying.:
:Out here?:
It was a good question. They were more than a day’s ride from Harbert on a path that would lead, by the end of the day, to a new settlement set up by three foresting families who’d been given a royal charter to harvest this section of the wood. Besides the usual responsibilities of a Herald on circuit, Jors had specific instructions to make sure they weren’t exceeding their charter.
Jors had never met one of the near legendary Hawk-brothers, wouldn’t actually mind meeting a Hawkbrother, and had less than no desire to meet a Hawkbrother because a forester had gotten greedy and begun cutting outside the territory they’d been granted. He’d grown up in such a settlement, his family still lived in one, and he knew exactly how tempting it could be to harvest that perfect tree just on the edge of the grant. And then the tree just beyond that.
Go far enough just beyond in this particular corner of Valdemar, and problems became a lot more serious than reestablishing the boundaries between feuding families.
Changing the World Page 21