The Dream Widow (19 page)

“You’re not him,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Wait! I know where he is.”

The man stepped back inside and squatted beside the bed close to Tran’s face. Tran caught the faint scent of roasted meat.

“What’s your name?”

“Tran.”

The pale man stuck out the tip of his tongue and licked his lips. “Listen to me carefully, Tran. My name is Darius. If you lie or betray my people, I won’t kill you. I’ll keep you alive for months in a state of such extreme pain that you’ll wish you were dead. That won’t happen until I’ve skinned you and sliced you to bits. Do you understand?”

Tran nodded.

“Good. I can see a few ways you could be useful. The problem is one of trust. No matter what evil threats I make, as soon as I turn you loose that tiny brain of yours will forget any promises we’ve made. And looking at it from your point of view, even if you deliver the moon to us I’m just an evil stranger who might kill you anyway. So let’s stop wasting time and forget all of this.”

“I’m not from the valley,” said Tran. “It’s not my home and I don’t care if it burns.”

Darius sighed. “I’ve got things to do ...”

“The blood oath. I’ll swear the blood oath,” said Tran. “In my people this can’t be broken.”

Darius pursed his lips and stared at Tran for a long moment. “Fine,” he said. “A blood oath it is.” He pulled a short blade from his belt.

“A blood oath is a trade between two people,” said Tran. “You haven’t asked what I want in return.”

“Your life? The lives of your family?”

Tran stared at him blankly. “Killed when you attacked David.”

“I’m sorry, honestly sorry. I was only after Wilson and that demon girl. I never meant to hurt the people in your village.”

“Whether that’s true or not, I will honor the oath,” said Tran. “I’ll find Wilson and Badger and bring them to you alive.”

“Badger? What a droll, backwards name she has.”

Tran coughed and winced at the pain in his chest. “For my trade I want two lives: mine and a girl.”

“You’ll have them,” said Darius.

He untied Tran’s right wrist and carefully pulled off a black leather glove. He sliced his own palm with the knife then carved a bloody line across the boy’s. They gripped palms tightly and rubbed the bloody gashes together.

“What’s the name of this girl you want?”

Tran twisted his mouth into a snarl. “Kaya.”

“So it is.”

Darius had the two guards untie the boy and instructed them to find Tran food and drink. He pushed his way out of the tent and into the snowstorm. As he walked through the orderly lines of canvas shelters a messenger ran up.

“Our men hold a line inside the valley,” said the messenger, a tribal boy. “But the savages aren’t giving up.”

“Run back to your captain and tell him I’ll be there shortly.”

A blood-curdling scream came from an azure-colored tent and the boy dashed away. A pair of guards bowed from the waist at the entrance flap and Darius pushed it aside.

He guessed the captured sniper had refused to talk––not that words could have stopped the Consul from a chance to practice her hobby.

The red-haired boy lay face-down on an unrolled mat, his arms and ankles tied fast with braided hemp. The Consul sat across the boy’s shoulder blades and faced his feet. She gripped the boy’s thumb tightly in one hand and the boy screamed as she slid a long silver needle under the fingernail.

Darius sat in a cloth-backed chair and watched. “Is this all the rage in the city?”

“Oh, yes,” said the Consul, standing up with the needle. “At least it was in the summer. Fashion changes so quickly these days.”

“I hear that it came from a book. Wasn’t your cousin the one who found it?”

The Consul nodded. “That lucky scamp. She left our estate and lives in the capital now. Before she was a homely country maid and now she tosses away men like used napkins. The book she found and translated explains how these needles were used in medicine.”

She stepped to a small table. Dozens of differently-sized needles glittered across a wide roll of midnight-blue velvet. Beside the velvet lay a small book with a golden cover.

“The body is crossed by thousands of pressure points and lines of energy. A master of this art can use thin metal slivers to puncture these points. A precise stab can speed up the heart or stop it. Deepen the breath or choke it away. Ease pain from the belly or turn the victim into a puking, gasping pile of tears.”

“Remarkable,” said Darius. “I’m always amazed at the things they could do in the old days.”

“True,” said the Consul. “All the same, I’m just a beginner and the boy’s told me nothing. As droll as it sounds, I may have to stick his head in a boring old bucket of water. Or strangulation––that should turn him fast enough.”

“Ah, yes––the old stand-bys,” said Darius. “I suggest that we let him go.”

“What? I’m having so much fun!”

“I can see that. I do want to give the savages a chance to surrender, however, and they’ll just kill one of our own men. They can read, so I’d like to have this boy take the message. By generously giving him freedom, I’m sure they’ll think better of us. Not all of them will lay down their weapons, but a few might. That fits with my other plans and is worth more than the life of this red-haired savage.”

The Consul rubbed her chin. She bent down with a squeak of leather and patted the boy on the rump. “I hope we meet again, little Robb. Compared to girls, boys are so much more fun.”

BECAUSE OF THE STORM, darkness fell earlier than normal for a winter evening.

Badger moved through the dim trenches at a crouch, all the way to the mouth of the rectory. The entrance was covered in slick ice and she stepped down carefully.

Even with the entrance hatch closed she could still hear the gunfire between the Circle and the first trenches. She opened the inner door and walked into another kind of noise. Medics with white armbands pushed through the packed corridors. Wounded villagers yelled for painkillers. Machines chirped and beeped from both treatment rooms.

In the first room Janna wrapped the midsection of a hunter in white bandages. Strands of hair from her tight ponytail had come loose and floated around her head like a blonde halo.

“I need a few painkillers,” said Badger.

“Drawer three, on the wall.”

Badger took two brown paper squares marked “AP” from the drawer. “Where’s Mary?”

Janna pointed with her chin. “Office.”

Wilson’s mother sat at the desk tapping on the viewscreen. She looked up as Badger entered the room.

“It doesn’t have those strange words anymore,” she said to Badger.

“That’s great,” said Badger. “I need your help with two things, Mary.”

“What is it?”

“Hausen wants to move the wounded and the women and children into the Tombs. You know both of the door codes, so if you can start organizing that––”

“But what about the machines?”

Badger shook her head. “Wilson and I shut them off so everything should be safe now. At least, safer than up here and that’s why Hausen wants all the non-fighters in the Tombs.”

“Where’s my son now?”

“He’s still down there,” said Badger. She held out the two painkillers. “He wanted me to bring these to him, but I need to stay and fight. We need every good shot with a rifle. Can you take them?”

Mary nodded. “Of course.”

“The Tombs has a bigger medical area so take the injured first. I’ve sent Alfie to round up the people left in Office and Barracks. By the time you come back they should be ready and waiting in the cafeteria.”

“Who’s going carry the criticals? Mina, Lizzie, and the others who can’t walk?”

The entrance hatch squealed. Badger stuck her head into the corridor and saw four tall boys, all Smashers, stepping through the wounded toward her.

“Don’t worry. Your help is here.”

She left the boys with Mary and walked out the entrance tunnel into a gust of stinging ice particles.

Men and boys shivered in the mud of the first trench. The rotund Brownie braved the filth and cold to bring a jug of hot tea to everyone. Furs and blankets were passed down the line.

The rifles of both Circle and villagers had become quiet aside from the crack of a bullet every now and then as some unwary soul on either side would stand up from cover. The Circle army seemed content to hold the entrance to the pass for the time being.

The snow brightened the fields and glowed like fairy dust against the dark forest and mountains. To give fair warning of an attack, the remaining students who could use the night-seeing trick were spread throughout the defenders.

Badger sat in the bottom of a trench and stamped her feet against the wall-boards to keep warm. She wrinkled her nose at a smell, thick and cold like frozen swamp water, and shifted under the bear pelt she shared with Mast.

“This isn’t going to work,” said the big teenager. A bandage covered his neck and he wore a thick fur cap.

Badger pulled the brim of an identical cap down to her ears.

“You sound like someone else I know,” she said. “Someone stubborn and male. If I give you boys two seconds, you’re jabbering away. Talk, talk, talk, like you can change the world by blowing hot air at it.”

“I’ll be quiet when I’m dead,” said Mast. “You’ll be happy to hear that’s probably not far off.”

“I told you to get patched up with the Medics.”

The fur pelt jerked as Mast shook his head.

“Can’t do it. If I see Mina, I won’t come back. I’m a coward like that.”

“We’ll see who the cowards are,” said Badger. “In the morning those little Circle bastards will be man-shaped blocks of ice.”

Mast sighed. “Hope springs eternal.”

“What?”

“Sorry. I meant you’re right.”

Frantic whispers broke out nearby. Badger threw off the pelt and moved at a crouch along the line of defenders to Simpson at the center.

“What is it?”

Simpson pointed over her shoulder. “Over there, Kira.”

Orange light glowed on the rock walls of the pass. After a moment two figures walked into view, each with a bright torch in one hand. They left the pass and walked slowly toward the defenses.

“Spread the word,” whispered Badger. “Hold your fire.”

The figures carried no weapons and held their arms wide apart. As their feet brushed through the snow, step by careful step, excited whispers spread through the trenches.

“That’s Robb!”

When the pair were five meters away, Badger raised her voice. “Stop!”

She climbed over the top of the trench and walked toward the two boys.

“They let us go,” said Tran.

“Don’t talk,” said Badger. “Drop the torches and take off your jackets. Then turn a circle. Slowly.”

Robb stared open-mouthed. “But it’s me, Kira!”

“Shut up and do it.”

Both Tran and Robb took off their jackets and spun in place.

“All right, come on,” said Badger, and waved them forward.

All three clambered down into the muddy defenses.

Mast slapped Robb on the back. “We thought you were dead!”

“Guess I’m just lucky,” said Robb.

Badger wrapped the red-haired boy in a thick blanket and watched his face carefully.

“Why’d they let you go?”

Robb shivered. “I don’t know. They were pretty rough on me at first, especially one woman. But a man gave me a letter to deliver. He said he was sorry for everything and wanted to make peace.”

“That’s it? What about Tran?”

The brown-haired boy shrugged. “They thought I was Wilson and kept me alive. After a while they found out I wasn’t him, but the same man said I could leave.”

Badger frowned, wrinkling her nose as if she’d stepped in something horrible. “But ... never mind. I’ll take the letter to Hausen. You two grab some food and get back here. We’ll need your help.”

Robb handed over the letter encased in a tight roll of deerskin and moved away at a crouch with Tran.

“I don’t trust that character,” said Mast. “Not one little bit.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t be silly. That Tran boy.”

“Everyone has a purpose,” said Badger. “Maybe Robb’s purpose is to annoy you.”

Badger left Mast chuckling to himself and half-crawled, half duck-walked through the defenses to a covered shelter in the rear. She found Hausen sitting inside, pieces of a black Circle carbine spread on a bench in front of him.

“Remarkable weapon,” he said. “Look at the finish on this receiver, and the magazine––”

Badger dropped the deerskin roll on the rifle parts, scattering them with a bang. “Here’s a message from the Circle.”

“Where’d you get this?”

“The Circle captured Robb and Tran today. They let them go.”

Hausen untied a thong around the small tube and unrolled it. Inside lay a yellow cylinder of paper. He pushed away rifle parts and flattened it on the desk.