Free Servant of a Dark God by John Brown Page B

soul to seek justice.
    The smith’s wife, however, she was something else. She’d probably trapped Sparrow, trapped him like a spider. And like a spider, one day she would have eaten him. The clan lord had demanded they keep her alive for questioning. For bait. They placed the king’s collar they’d taken from the royal house around her neck, laid her in the back of a wagon, and had taken her away to the healers.
    And it was a good thing, for those that were sent to chase the girl and boy had searched past the river, they’d scoured the woods all the way to the swamps. Lords, they’d even used dogs. But they found nothing. It was impossible—a girl and a blind boy! But the hunt had come back before dark, haggard and empty-handed. That right there was evidence the children knew her wicked ways.
    No, Barg did not feel safe. But he wasn’t a coward. He felt a great welling satisfaction, for when others had run today, he had stood his ground. The Crab had noted it. And he wasn’t going to ruin that honor tonight.
    Barg looked at his daughter. She grew brighter each day. He was actually trying to win this game and failing.
    He turned to his oldest son. “You’re going to have to take my place,” he said.
    “Why should you go?” asked his wife. “Nobody else will be there. Nobody would dare.” She sat at the table braiding the youngest boy’s hair for bed.
    “They will,” he said. “They’re counting on me. But I’ll be back soon enough. And I think I know a way to take this whole bloody mess off of your mind. We’ll go fishing tomorrow.”
    She looked at him in disbelief. “Fishing?”
    He leaned in close, then whispered in her ear so the children couldn’t hear. “Happy plans will put the children at ease.”
    She looked down and said nothing.
    Barg kissed her gently on the cheek. Then he considered his girl and two boys. The firelight sparkled in their dark eyes. To think they had played with that woman’s hatchlings.
    “I’ll be back soon enough,” he assured them. “We’re taking quarter watches is all.” Then he belted on his sword and picked up his spear. Foss, their hunting dog, rose to go with him, and Barg opened the door.
    The smoke in the room curled out into the night. Barg pointed at the children. “You do your chores and get to bed and when you wake up in the morning, we’ll be off.”
    “To the river or the beach?” asked his oldest.
    They loved the beach. It would be a long day, but it would give them something to think about.
    “The beach,” he said. “We’ll roast crabs.”
    Then he shut the door behind him. He took a long drink of water from the bucket at the well then set off down the path that led to the smith’s ruin, Foss padding along at his side.
    He could see the last flames of Sparrow’s house burning at the other end of the field. The fires burned low, but they still cast enough light to silhouette the remains of Sparrow’s barn and outbuildings. The smoke of the fires hung heavily in the air.
    Barg glanced back at his house a few times as he walked. The shutters were latched and snug. His wife had barred the door. They would be fine.
    As Barg got closer to the flames he could see that something was amiss—nobody was there. There were supposed to be ten men on each watch.
    Perhaps they were all bunched up behind the barn.
    He rounded the corner of the barn and looked across Sparrow’s yard.
    Nothing. His wife had been right. None of the others were here.
    The house and smithy had burned down to coals and ashes. Here and there a few fires still burned, but they were small. Much smaller than it appeared from his house. Still, he could feel the heat of the coals. The whole mess still produced a blistering heat.
    A small flame rose at the edge of a blackened log close to him only to disappear moments later.
    All was silent except for the crackling and popping of the fire. The circle of light did not extend far into the swallowing darkness.
    Cowards.
    He’d roust