Free Gallow by Nathan Hawke

know?’
    Fenaric glanced at Nadric. He shook his head and fell to his knees and clasped his hands, begging. ‘Modris have mercy!’ He should have known better. Never cross a forkbeard. His bladder suddenly felt very full.
    ‘I did it,’ said Arda. She stood proud in the middle of the barn, pushing past the others to stand across from Gallow, hands on her hips. ‘I told him to do it.’
    The look on Gallow’s face was murderous. ‘Why, wife? Why would you do that?’
    ‘I told you I didn’t want that man in my house. I said that many times and you never listened.’ She pointed at Corvin and turned to the Marroc around her. ‘Do you know who this is? This is the Widowmaker, the Nightmare of the North. In
my
house.’ She rounded on Gallow. ‘You said he’d be gone in the morning. And he wasn’t. So yes, when Fenaric went to Fedderhun I told him to bring the Vathen, that I had a forkbeard from Lostring Hill in my house if they wanted him. I never said who, and I told no one else. Bluntly, I thought he’d be dead by the time they came and that would have been fine for all of us.’
    Gallow turned on Fenaric. ‘Did they pay you?’ Fenaric shook his head but he couldn’t help looking at the barrels of ale. ‘If they did then that’s blood money, and you give whatever they gave you to Arda and let it hang around her like a curse.’ He backed his horse away and looked at them all. ‘Do you know what you’ve done?’
    ‘
You
brought him here!’ snapped Arda. Sometimes she was the only one of the Marroc who wasn’t afraid of him.
    ‘I came from fighting the Vathen with a soldier who was hurt, defending our land!’ roared Gallow. ‘Does it matter who he was?’
    Arda matched him, thunder for thunder. ‘Yes! When it’s the Widowmaker, yes, it does!’
    Fenaric stared at Corvin. ‘I didn’t know who it was.’
Oh Modris. The Nightmare of the North! He’ll kill every one of us
. Gallow’s eyes were on him, hard and narrow. ‘I swear! I didn’t know!’
    ‘And that makes it somehow better? That you betrayed a man without even knowing his name?’ Gallow snarled and growled and turned his horse. ‘Listen well, Marroc!’ he cried. ‘The Vathen have come to Middislet. You did that, not I. Now two of their soldiers are dead. That?
I
did that. And Fenaric, you may not have told them who was in my house, but someone did. The Vathen know that the Screambreaker was here and more will come. Go! Hide in the Crackmarsh! Stay there this time and don’t wait for Vennic to see ghosts up in the hills – they
will
come. If they burn your homes, let that be all you lose. You’re fools, all of you.’ He jumped off his horse, grabbed Fenaric and dragged him towards Arda. ‘Screambreaker, if anyone leaves the barn before I come back, kill them!’
    The forkbeard nodded. He looked distant, as though he was barely listening. His eyes were half closed behind the curve of his helm. Fenaric whimpered as Gallow hauled him along.
Modris, but he’s strong!
    Arda looked at Corvin in disgust. ‘He’s half de—’
    Gallow slapped her before she could finish, hard enough to knock her down. Fenaric tried to pull away, certain now that Gallow meant to kill them both as soon as they were outside, but he couldn’t break free. He knew, because Arda had told him, that Gallow had never struck her in all the years they’d been married.
    Gallow didn’t break stride. He tossed his torch among the cringing Marroc and bent down as Arda started to rise. He grabbed her arm with his free hand and dragged them both out of the barn like a pair of naughty children, walked them past the bonfire, threw Fenaric to the ground and drew his sword.
    ‘No!’ Arda at last sounded scared. Fenaric couldn’t find his voice.
    Gallow pointed his sword at Fenaric’s face. ‘Now listen to me. I’ll leave with the Screambreaker tonight. I’ll take the Vathan horses and everything they had. There’ll be no sign they were here but that won’t save