Duskfall (4 page)

He’d stayed because Bahc was kind. And because Bahc’s daughter was beautiful. He was ashamed to admit it, but there it was. He’d also stayed because he had nowhere else to go. His memories of whatever life he’d had before waking up in Bahc’s house were incomprehensible. A jumble of impossible images, faces he couldn’t name, blurry and dark.

But, most of all, he’d stayed because of the life he thought he could make here. These were simple folk, and Knot was drawn to that simplicity, living day by day on what he caught in the freezing gulf. He liked tiellan tradition, conservative and unobtrusive. Whether the rift between humans and tiellans had bothered him in the past, Knot didn’t know. But it didn’t matter now. He liked the pragmatic way they looked at things. Made the best they could out of the hand life had dealt them.

Which was why Knot hadn’t told anyone about the things he
could
remember. And now, because he had stayed, because he had put himself before everyone else, there were nine bodies to account for.

The snow fell heavier, large flakes floating down in the darkness, covering the road and rooftops and fields. Pranna was hardly more than one main street that led north to the Big Hill and the dock, where a number of boats, including Bahc’s, were moored in the small harbor. The tiellan quarter lay off to the east, away from both the main street and the dock, connected only by a small footpath. The tiellan homes were hardly more than shacks, with thin driftwood walls and roofs in constant need of repair, in contrast to the sturdier human homes and shops—some even with multiple levels—in the main part of town. The Cantic chapel, the largest building in town, loomed to the west. Knot would have to cross the main street on the way to Darrin’s home on the east side.

As Knot neared the town’s edge, he heard footsteps crunching towards him, saw a light in the distance. Knot hid instinctively, crouching behind the smithy, cradling Winter close. He let her weight rest on his legs for a moment as he rotated his right arm. His shoulder had never fully recovered from the arrow wound received a year ago. It ached often, and carrying Winter made it hurt all the more.

“You believe the disciple? Seemed a bit off her rocker to me,” a man said. Knot could see the two men clearly now in the lamplight, dressed in light armor and carrying spears. Town Watch.

“She said the elf-lover and the other humans did all the killing, attacking the tiellans and the disciples and then going after each other. The elf-lover and one of the foreigners escaped, leaving everyone else to die.”

Knot frowned. “Elf-lover” was a term he’d heard more often than he liked in the past year, always in reference to himself. They were blaming
him
for the massacre?

Silence for a moment. Then the second watchman spoke again. “Good riddance to the elves. Should all be gone by now, makes no difference to me if they’re dead. What was done to the disciples, and a
priestess
of all people, now that’s a real crime.”

“Aye. Only reason I’m out here in the snow searching for the bastards. Sure as Oblivion wouldn’t be out here for no damned elves.”

“Hope we come across the elf-lover first. Been wanting to rough that one up since he arrived.”

The other man grunted in agreement, and they walked past Knot towards the town center. If the Town Watch had been alerted, then the Goddessguard surely had been as well. Knot also knew, though not how, that word would have been sent to Cineste and a brace of the City Watch would arrive within the week. Nine mysterious deaths, including those of three members of the clergy, was too big for Pranna to handle on its own. The Cantic Denomination might even send a Crucible to investigate.

Knot’s original surprise at the Watch accusing him was already beginning to fade. The humans in this town had never liked him. Just as bad as the tiellans, it seemed, was a human who fell in with them.

“The other dead humans don’t make much sense,” the first watchman said. “Chief says they’re from Maven Kol, says he’s seen robes like that down there.”

“Chief has never been down to Maven Kol,” the other man scoffed. “He don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Try telling him that.”

Knot twitched. The men were wrong. The robed attackers weren’t from Maven Kol; their accents had been Rodenese. He knew Roden by name only; he had no recollection of being there. Nevertheless, something tugged at him, deep within his mind.

The conversation faded. Knot waited until their lamplight was gone, then lifted Winter. If they were blaming him for the deaths, all the better. His plan wouldn’t change.

* * *

“Knot, you’re all right!” Eranda ran towards him, looking down at Winter with fear in her eyes. Knot had trudged through fresh snow that was already nearly a hand deep to the small hut.

“Oh, Goddess,” Eranda whispered. She looked up at Knot. “Is she…?”

“Unconscious. But she’ll live.”

Darrin, Eranda’s husband, stepped forward. “Let me take her,” he offered. “You’ve carried her all this way.”

“No,” Knot said, surprised at how much he wanted to continue holding her. “I… I’ve got her.”

Lian walked in with Darrin and Eranda’s youngest boy, Tohn, in his arms. Sena, eyes red, and the younger daughter, Lelanda, followed close behind. Lian glared at Knot, eyes dark.

Knot let out a slow breath. Lian must’ve come straight here after what happened to make sure Eranda and Sena were alright.

“Knot,” Eranda said, her voice strained, “what in Oblivion happened? Lian refuses to speak about it, we don’t know—”

“Please,” Knot said. “I need to settle her down first. Make sure she’s okay.”

Darrin looked at Knot, then down at Winter. The man had never been particularly friendly to Knot, but he’d never been hostile, either. Knot had brought Winter here because he was gambling on the man’s integrity.

“Very well then,” Darrin drawled. He glanced at Eranda. “Let’s get the children out of the bedroom. Give these two a moment.” He looked back at Knot, his eyes hard. “Then Knot’ll tell us what happened.”

Knot eased Winter onto the bed, gently covering her with all the blankets he could find. She stirred, her body twitching once in the darkness. Knot froze. Her injuries were not severe; she would wake by morning, weak and groggy and with an aching head, but otherwise all right. He felt a momentary rush of fear at the thought that she might wake now, while he was still here. But she remained still.

Knot remembered telling her once, while they were out on a rare trip alone on her father’s boat, how he had always felt a pull to leave Pranna. It was one of the few times he remembered genuinely catching her attention. She had always wanted to leave, too. Tiellan tradition, it seemed, had never sat quite right with Winter.

“Then why
don’t
you?” she had asked, looking out at the gray sea. The sky had been cloudy, a light fog misting over the gulf.

“Because I’m afraid,” he had told her. “This place keeps me sane. If I left… I fear what I’d become.” He had laughed, then. “Which ain’t sayin’ I don’t worry about what I could do if I stay.”

She had looked at him strangely. He had come close to telling her, in that moment. Telling her about his nightmares, the faces he saw when he closed his eyes. He had come close, but not near close enough.

“Being around you, around Bahc, and everyone,” Knot had said instead, “I feel like I can do this thing. Live a good life. Be a good man, maybe.” It hadn’t been a lie, exactly. He had felt that way. But he couldn’t be around them
all
the time.

He could still remember the waves, cresting gently with small white ridges of foam. How Winter’s black eyes seemed to take in the beauty of the world, bright and shining, despite their darkness.

“Being around you,” he’d said, “somehow… I want to be better than I am.”

In that moment, he remembered thinking that he could love this girl. But he knew she didn’t feel that way about him. Then Bahc had approached him with an offer of marriage, and had made it seem so fine a deal for both of them… and Knot had said yes. Put himself first. He had chosen to marry her, despite knowing what she really wanted. He had chosen to marry her because he needed someone to fix him, and she had been the nearest tool at hand.

And now her father was dead. Because of him.

Knot shivered. The thin walls, made of driftwood, did not block out the wind. Kneeling, he rested his head on Winter’s sleeping form. He stayed there, feeling her beneath him, and slowly the fear he felt tugging at his gut was replaced by hollowness as he thought of what he would do next.

He stood and touched her face with his fingertips. It was his duty to protect this woman, now. He owed her a debt. And the best way he could do that was get as far away as possible.

* * *

“Bahc’s dead,” Knot said. “Dent, too.” He regretted his bluntness, but time wasn’t on his side. He ignored Eranda’s gasp and continued. “The priestess and two of her disciples were killed as well. I left Gord unconscious.”

“What about Winter?” Lian demanded.

“She’ll be fine,” Knot said, avoiding his eyes. Tohn was asleep in Lian’s arms now, and Lelanda clung to his leg. Lian would make a good father one day. Knot felt another pang of guilt that Bahc had asked him—and he had chosen—to marry Winter. If he hadn’t, she and Lian probably would have had a happy life together. And Bahc would not be dead.

What’s done is done
, he told himself.

“She’s the reason I came to see you,” he said. His gaze moved to Eranda, then to Darrin, and finally rested on Lian. “Take care of her. She won’t wake ’til morning, but someone needs to be with her when she does. Someone needs to watch over her.” Knot clenched his jaw. He was having trouble finding the words. “One of the robed men escaped. The one who killed the priestess. When I leave, he’ll follow.”

“You’re leaving?” Eranda asked. Her stare was vacant.

“Tonight,” Knot said. “I don’t belong here. Never did. The Watch’ve wanted an excuse to run me out of town since the day I showed up. They blame me for the massacre, and that stays on my shoulders. But I need you all to take care of Winter. You’re all she has left, now.”

“
You’re
her husband.” Lian’s eyes flashed. The young tiellan hadn’t been happy about the marriage, and, now that Knot was abandoning Winter, his distrust would only grow.

Knot didn’t have time to make him understand the alternatives.

“She’ll be safest here with you. Far as I’m concerned, the ceremony last night never happened.” Anger glinted in Lian’s eyes, but Knot could tell he agreed when he didn’t say a word. It seemed Knot had gambled wisely.

“Will you do this for me?” Knot asked.

“We’ll do what we can,” Darrin said, “for her.”

That was good enough. Knot turned to Lian. The tiellan glared at him a moment longer, but finally nodded.

“Where will you go?” Darrin asked.

“I don’t know,” Knot lied. No use giving them a reason to follow. “Cineste first, but after that… I don’t know. Best you don’t, either.”

Before anyone could respond, the door rattled on its hinges. “Town Watch!” a voice shouted from outside. Dust shook from the frame.

Knot cursed. “Do as I say, don’t argue,” he whispered. In one swift movement, he lifted Eranda up from the floor and grabbed a cooking knife from the table, the blade scraping against her throat.

The door burst inwards and three watchmen shuffled in, wearing leather and chainmail, brandishing spears and clubs.

Knot looked at them defiantly, hoping his ruse would work.

One of the watchmen sniggered. “Come to finish the rest of ’em off, have you?” He had a wide, round face made even larger by his thick beard. “Can’t say that’s a service we wouldn’t want, but you were involved with murdering a priestess.”

Lian started to speak, but Knot shot him a glare and shoved the knife harder against Eranda’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. He didn’t have to see Eranda’s eyes to know they showed real fear.

“Move and I’ll kill her,” he growled at Lian.

The watchmen advanced, trying to surround Knot.

“Why don’t you just come with us,” the fat-faced man said. “Leave these elf-folk alone.”

One of the other men sniggered. “Not like we really care what happens to ’em anyway. You kill her, fine by us, but then you’ll have her husband
and
us to deal with. Not in your favor, friend.”

Looking around wildly, Knot finally dropped the knife, shoving Eranda towards her husband. “Get me out of here,” he mumbled, trying to sound beaten. “These elves stink.”

The watchmen rushed in, grabbing his arms. He shot one last look at Lian, who nodded almost imperceptibly as the men dragged Knot away.

* * *

Knot waited until they were far enough from the hut to avoid suspicion falling on the tiellan family. It was still dark, dawn was an hour or so away, and snow floated down in large flakes.

He had at least two things in his favor. The first was the snow. If it kept up, it would cover his tracks out of town. The second was the fact that the watchmen hadn’t bound him. They dragged him along, one man on each arm, the fat-faced man behind him with a spear point pressed against Knot’s back. Their mistake.

Knot planted his feet, and the men stopped.

“What the—”

Knot crashed his heel sharply into the knee of the man who held his right arm. Bone snapped, and the man sank to the snow, screaming. Knot’s body seemed to know what to do instinctively. The man to his left still gripped him tightly, so Knot turned and pulled him in front of his body in time to catch a spear-thrust from the fat-faced man behind. He fell limply to the snow. The fat-faced man stared dully at the comrade he’d just impaled.

The man with the shattered leg was still screaming. Knot kicked his face, and he went silent. Wouldn’t do to have the entire watch closing in before he’d even left town.

Knot dodged another stab from the fat-faced man’s spear. Fat Face must not have been used to the weapon; the swing threw him slightly off balance. Knot weaved in and smashed the palm of his hand into the man’s nose, shattering it. Then Knot ducked around him, picking up a club one of the other watchmen had been carrying.