Free Gallow by Nathan Hawke Page B

not about to die, I suppose you might stay on that horse as far as Andhun,’ he said instead.
    ‘I don’t want you riding with me, clean-skin.’ The Screambreaker’s words were weak, his voice at the end of its strength. ‘You want to leave a trail for the Vathen to follow, you do that. I’ll make one too. I’ll make my own.’
    ‘You’ll have to speak louder,’ said Gallow.
    ‘You heard.’
    Gallow sniffed the night air. The trail towards the Crackmarsh was easy enough to follow in the moonlight. He still carried a burning branch from the festival fire and he’d walked the path a dozen times. ‘I think I must have taken a blow to the head in the battle too. Hearing’s been here and there ever since. You’ll have to shout to be sure I don’t misunderstand you. Probably not a good idea in the middle of the night.’
    ‘Go away! I do not want you with me,’ growled Corvin. It wasn’t exactly a shout.
    ‘I think,’ said Gallow, as if he hadn’t heard, ‘that if I were to go back, I might just kill my wife.’
    ‘Do you need me to do it for you, bare-face? For a betrayal like that I’d hang my own brother. You should have dragged her by the hair back into that barn and whipped her to death in front of the rest of them!’
    ‘Your brother’s at the bottom of the sea, Screambreaker, and when he was alive, I think most of us were surprised with each day that passed when one of you still hadn’t killed the other. The Marroc aren’t like us.’ He wouldn’t kill Arda, not for trying her best to look after what was hers. Couldn’t. But Fenaric was a different matter. Fenaric he wanted to hurt. Badly. His blood was up, his axe had tasted the enemy and that’s what Fenaric had made himself: the enemy. ‘Maker-Devourer. I have two sons by Arda and a daughter. They’re too young to ride with us.’
    ‘Good. Then go back and watch over them and leave me be.’
    ‘No, better I ride with you, Screambreaker. I’ll save my rage for cracking Vathan skulls, not Marroc ones. You can show me the road to Andhun, which I might not find were I alone, and remind me why I should grow my beard again. And I’ll return your generosity by hunting food and water for you.’ If he put it like that and made it sound like somehow the Screambreaker was the one guiding them and not the other way round then maybe Corvin would at least shut up about being left to manage on his own.
    ‘That woman took your beard. Is she why you stayed in Andhun?’
    ‘Not at first.’
    ‘But she’s why you never came back.’ The Screambreaker screwed up his face. ‘I’ve seen how you look at her. And how she looks at you. Women like that make men weak. You forget who you are.’
    ‘You’re wrong, Screambreaker. I’ve not forgotten. I chose to be something else.’ They rode in silence after that. Gallow watched Corvin’s shoulders start to sag and then the Screambreaker slumped in his saddle. They were only a few miles from Middislet but the Marroc wouldn’t start for the Crackmarsh until dawn and probably not for hours afterwards. Gallow reined in his horse. ‘It’s been a long night and I don’t trust these Vathan beasts not to trip and throw me. I’ll stop here and make my camp. I have food and water if you choose to join me.’ He half expected Corvin to refuse, to insist on riding on alone until he fell off his horse, but the Screambreaker didn’t answer. When Gallow stopped, Corvin’s horse stopped too. The old man was asleep. Gallow lifted him down and got a fire going. It had been a long night.
    He rose again at dawn. The fire was down to embers but they were enough to light some kindling and start a new one. He roused Corvin with warm water and soft bread and the smell of roasting meat. ‘Breakfast, Screambreaker. Make the most of it. We won’t eat like this again until Andhun. I’ve got food for another day and then we’ll be foraging in the Crackmarsh. You’ll not get another fire either, not with Vathen on our