The Darkness Comes (The Second Book of the Small Gods Series) (30 page)

Trenan glanced at the sergeant, then back at the woman, his expression hard. His gut churned with anger and worry—for Teryk’s safety and for how the queen would take the news. He glared at her for a time, jaw flexing and releasing as he ground his back teeth, barely keeping himself from jerking his arm away and slicing her throat. Finally, he took a step away.

The swordmaster raised his gaze, glancing out toward the sea at a sail in the distance. What happened to the prince? Did he come to his senses and wander off, either headed home or to embark on his journey? Did the magic befuddle him? If so, he might have plunged off the end of the pier and into the ocean to be carried away by the tide. Or maybe another brigand set on making a ransom had found him and stolen him away.

Trenan lowered his eyes and shook his head. The search must continue.

“Bring them,” he said, pivoting to head back the way they’d come. “They’re enemies of the king and they must be made an example of.”

“No,” Stirk cried. “It wasn’t like that. We was trying to help.”

“And shut him up.”

Trenan walked away, the meaty sound of a fist contacting the side of Stirk’s head in his ears and the taste of bile on his tongue. Today, he’d take the heads of Bieta and Stirk for what they’d done. And the horse doctor’s, too.

Would the king take his when he found out the prince was lost?

XXX Juddah - Going on a Trip

Juddah woke with a start, snorting air and mustache hair in through his nose. He shifted his ass on the uncomfortable chair of driftwood he’d built himself, its seat fitted with a cushion made out of a sack stuffed with duck feathers. A pleasant sensation quivered in his belly and he found he’d awakened with a bulge in his britches.

“Must’ve been a good dream, Juddah,” he said to the empty room, rubbing his palm over the top of the mound hidden in his overalls. The touch sent a shiver up his spine.

“It’s been too long, ain’t it?” he said peering at his crotch. “Gonna have to take care of you right quick, aren’t we?”

He pushed himself up out of the chair, struggling his bulk to his feet with the dubious support of the chair’s bent driftwood arm. When he made it upright, he glanced across the room. Dim light still squeezed through the space between the shutters. It shone across the dog’s dark pelt where he lay on a straw-stuffed sack on the other side of the room, watching his master expectantly. The quality of the line of sunlight illuminating the dog’s hindquarters suggested the approach of sunset. Juddah stretched his arms above his head and broke wind.

“Woo,” he exclaimed, waving his hand in front of his face. “What’ve you been eatin’, Kooj?”

The dog lifted his head at the sound of his name, heavy tail thumping the floor.

Nostrils flared, Juddah crossed the room to the window, scratching his sack through his britches, but being careful not to further excite his shrinking manhood. He pushed open the shutter and gazed out at the man in the white shirt and red breeches.

“Forgot about you.”

The man stared into the forest instead of digging the well, the shovel’s blade stuck in the dirt while he leaned on the handle. Juddah sucked on the stray mustache hairs hanging over his lip and leaned forward, readying to give a good shout, but he pulled up short, wondering what the man found so interesting out amongst the trees.

“Maybe a rabbit. Or a deer,” he muttered. His gut rumbled in response.

Wiping the last of his nap out of his eyes, he rushed to the door, the loose heel of his boot clomping against his foot.

“Come on, Kooj.”

The dog padded across the room and waited at his master’s side while he opened the door carefully instead of throwing it open in anger the way he wanted. With the door left ajar, he stepped off the uneven porch into the knee-high grass and bulled his way through the yellowed blades toward the idle man.

“Psst,” he hissed to gain the fellow’s attention. The man didn’t look, so he repeated the sound, louder this time. “Psst.”

The fellow squinted toward him and Juddah raised his hands questioningly, not expecting him to understand; the man pointed into the forest.

Juddah amended his path, moving toward the tree line, and saw movement. Leaves rustled, a branch snapped. A flash of dark fabric between the foliage and tree trunks told Juddah it wasn’t an animal creeping up on his property. His stomach gurgled in disappointment, but his throat growled angrily.

“Birk! Is that you?” He stopped and grabbed a stone big enough to fill his wide palm off the pile of dirt the stranger had created. “I told you to stay off my land, fucker!”

Juddah heaved the rock into the trees. It crashed through foliage, setting bushes and limbs shuddering, but thumped to the ground without a pained cry from the mouth of a man.

“Get him, Kooj.”

The dog launched into the scrub, his broad shoulder crashing through leaves and branches, wide paws thumping the ground. Juddah stood up on his toes, stretching to peek over or through the curtain of green, but he saw nothing except shivering brush. Kooj growled, barked; a man cried out, the dog yelped.

Silence.

Concern leaped into Juddah’s chest. “Kooj!” No sound. “Kooj! To me!”

Nothing happened for a moment, then the bushes shuddered. Juddah tensed, hands clenched into fists until the dog bounded out of the forest. Relief eased his worry, but the indignation at the intrusion on his land remained.

Juddah raised his fist and shook it in the air.

“Don’t you come back, neither. If I catch you here again, I’ll kill you.”

He stared into the trees, teeth clenched along with his fist, his breath short and hard as though he’d run a long distance. Nothing moved until a bird flitted out of a bush. Juddah lowered his arm.

“And don’t come back, you bastard.”

Hand resting on Kooj’s head, he surveyed the forest for a half dozen heartbeats until he heard the soft clink of metal behind him and remembered the stranger—the stranger holding a spade suitable for cracking open a man’s skull.

Juddah jumped away and spun around, arms raised to catch the shovel before the blade bit into his head. To his surprise, the stranger continued leaning on the handle, watching his captor.

“Give me that,” Juddah demanded, hand held out to receive the tool. The man didn’t move. Juddah sighed, annoyed. This saying everything twice thing was wearing thin quick. “Give me the spade.”

Kooj growled and the stranger leaned back to consider the tool, then pulled it free from the ground and held it out, handle first. Juddah snatched it out of his grasp.

“Enough digging for today,” he muttered and surveyed the hole the stranger had made.

He estimated it to be twelve handspans wide and the same in depth. A good amount of work accomplished; not quite a well yet, but heading the right direction. Satisfied, Juddah nodded, then gestured for the man to step back. To his surprise, the stranger complied without him having to repeat himself.

“You don’t get my words, but you’re okay at understanding signals, I guess. Kind of like Kooj.” He glanced at the dog, held his hand out palm up, then flipped it over. The dog sat.

Juddah kneeled beside the stake and fished in his pocket for the key, his gaze fixed on the stranger. He hadn’t taken the opportunity to club him over the head with the spade, but it didn’t mean he could be trusted.

“I found Kooj same way I found you, you know.” The lock clicked open and he pulled both it and the chain off the stake. “He was a damn bit more aggressive than you’ve been so far though, weren’t you, Kooj?”

The dog bounced forward on its ass, tongue hanging. When his master didn’t admonish him for the movement, he trotted to Juddah’s side and dragged his tongue across his master’s cheek, saliva sticking in long whiskers. Juddah laughed, pushed the dog’s snout away and stood, chain in hand.

The stranger stared, expressionless except for the shine of confusion in his eyes. Juddah yanked the chain, pulling the stranger in the direction of the barn, the shaggy dog up and trotting along beside him.

“Yep, I found him and added him to my collection, just like I did you,” Juddah mused aloud despite knowing his companion didn’t understand any more words than the dog. “Same as everything in the barn and my shack. Even the cow.” He chuckled to himself. “Found her at Birk’s place. Might be why he’s creeping around in the forest.”

He jerked the door open, setting the birds in the rafters fluttering, and ushered the stranger through the door ahead of him. The man obliged without resistance.

“Go stand yourself over by the sacks,” Juddah said, but didn’t gesture. Sure enough, the man did nothing but gaze at him blankly, proving Juddah’s suspicions. He waved his hand in the direction of the stack of burlap bags. “Get over there.”

The man obeyed this time and satisfaction at figuring him out washed over the stocky man. He didn’t much enjoy being around other people—except on the odd occasion he woke with a tent pitched in his britches and decided to take care of it, maybe—but he began thinking it might be handy keeping this fellow around. At the very least, he’d get the well dug. Who knew what might happen afterward? He might prove good at repairing the roof. Or his bones might eventually end up in one of the burlap sacks, like the others.

Juddah attached the chain to the stake then backed toward the door, Kooj at his side the entire time. He stopped in the doorway and crossed his arms in front of his barrel chest. The stranger staggered to the pile of hay gathered against the far wall and lowered himself down. When he’d settled, he held his hands out toward Juddah, palms turned upward. The stocky man leaned forward to get a peek.

Blood smeared one of his palms where a blister from shoveling had burst and the handle rubbed through. Angry redness covered his other hand, the white skin of blisters that had made it through the digging without bursting standing out against the raw background.

“Can’t do much about them.” Juddah shook his head. “I’ll get you water, though. Some to drink, some for washing up. Other than that, you’re on your own. I’m going out tonight to take care of my boy.”

***

Jud-dah stood in the doorway, peering at the man’s chewed-up hands and speaking his nonsensical words. He seemed pleased with himself, but the man didn’t know why. All he really wanted was food and drink; the day’s work had highlighted how long it had been since he’d had either.

After a while, Jud-dah left, though not much time passed before he returned with a small pitcher of water. He set it on the ground between them, one hand held up with a finger pointing upward. The man guessed it meant he should wait, so he did, his mouth flooding with sour saliva at the sight of water sloshing around within the ewer. When Jud-dah disappeared through the door again, the man crawled across the dirt floor and gripped the jug’s handle in his tender hands.

A pained breath whistled between his teeth and he bobbled the container of precious, replenishing liquid. Instead of drinking immediately, he splashed water over the edge onto his hands, rubbed his palms lightly together to wash away the blood and dirt ground into the lines. The flesh beneath was raw and torn on one hand, red and sore on the other. He clenched his jaw and clasped the jug in both hands. His arms shook with exhaustion, but he raised it to his lips, a wave of the fluid spilling over the edge and muddying the dirt floor where it landed.

He filled his mouth, held the liquid in his cheeks for a few seconds, then choked and spit it out. The man gasped for breath and peered into the pitcher at bits of dirt, bark, and hair floating in the water. He spit a chunk of unknown detritus out onto the ground.

Despair knotted his chest and he thumped the jug on the ground, slopping more water over the edge. Was he supposed to drink this? Survive on this vile fluid?

What choice do I have?

Despite the foul taste of the water, his mouth filled with saliva, his throat ached for whatever refreshment it might provide. He sighed and raised the container to his lips again, this time sucking the fluid slowly through his teeth, using them to filter out the detritus. He swallowed, spit debris out, then repeated the procedure.

Jud-dah returned leading the cow by a short rope. He tethered the animal to a ring beside the door that didn’t appear solid enough to keep one of the rafter birds from taking flight if they were tied to it. Task complete, Jud-dah faced the man, one arm leaning against the cow’s shoulder.

“Gudinninit?”

The man watched him in silence, the pitcher’s cool clay surface soothing his palms. The cow lifted its tail and let go a stream of greenish-brown chunks of manure. Jud-dah slapped the animal on the back and laughed.

“Thatsincaze yagetungree.”

He canted his head and whistled through his teeth. Two heartbeats passed, then Kooj came trotting through the door, tongue lolling, and took a seat at his master’s feet.

“Koojelsleeperetanite,” Jud-dah said scratching the dog behind the ears. “Beehaver hillbiteov yercawk.”

He laughed again and pointed at a sack beside the door, opposite where he’d tied the cow. “Lied owan, Kooj.”

The dog sauntered to the sack, spun two tight circles and settled. Jud-dah directed his gaze to the man, his eyes stern, and jabbed his finger toward him threateningly. He didn’t know what the stocky man meant—perhaps that he shouldn’t leave—but chained to the floor with a dog watching him, he didn’t have any other choice.

“Elbeebak innacubla dazeboy.”

Jud-dah scratched the dog behind the ears once more, then exited the barn, slamming the door behind him. It rattled briefly—a latch being set—then all fell quiet.

Pitcher in hand, the man scrambled back to his pile of straw, putting as much distance between himself and the dog as the room and the chain allowed. The animal eyed him—hungrily, he thought.

Overhead, the rafter birds settled in for the night. The light shining through the cracks between the boards glowed orange and red with the setting of the sun. The man set the pitcher of water aside and leaned back against the wall, his gaze flitting from the dog, to the door, to the row of tools. Another time, he might have devised a way to escape, but the exhaustion in his arms left them unable to do more than sag by his side, hands throbbing. He sighed a long breath, hoping for sleep to take him quickly and relieve his aches and pains, though he knew both hunger and the discomfort would remain when he awoke.