Around her, men and women were cooking, or washing, or harvesting more reeds. There was nothing unusual to be seen anywhere, unless some sharp eye noticed that the tiniest children were all somehow invisible.
The soldiers came in on bald-legged oxen. Arla counted fast as she dropped to her knees and raised her hands in homage to the higher ranks. A dozen of them. Narroways Heretics, by the clothes. They were armed with swords and clubs and shields, but they didn’t look particularly alert. She noted that Branch in the River had had the sense to keep herself out of their ranks. She was probably lurking behind them somewhere, wondering if her absence from the clan had been noticed.
Arla raised her eyes a little and caught her breath. A Skyman rode in the ranks. She recognized him. He’d been the one who sank the needle into her arm when Cor had taken her to their shelter. She glanced involuntarily toward Shaper’s steps, where Eric had taken up his position.
He was not there.
Arla had no time to curse.
“We are looking for the family of Stone in the Wall,” said the troop’s leader. He was a big man with Nobility’s swirls on his hands. Green and scarlet. Arla faced one of the rulers of Narroways.
Well, she thought with a mix of satisfaction and sourness, let’s see how astute this Lord of Narroways actually is.
“My lord, forgive this despised one. She can say only that they are not here. When Stone in the Wall was cursed as a Heretic by the Teachers, the Nameless Powers preserve them all, we hurled that tainted blood from our clan. If they live yet, this despised one doesn’t know where or how.”
The totally expected happened next, which was why Arla had insisted on being the one to deliver the bad news.
The Lord of Narroways took a foot out of his stirrup and aimed a kick at her head. She covered, ducked, and rolled backward, but the blow set her ears ringing anyway.
“Don’t lie to me, Notouch!” he bellowed. “Where are they!”
“My lord?” said a voice. “If I may?”
That was a surprise. Arla took great pains to blink stupidly as she heard the sounds of someone dismounting. A shadow bent over her. She felt the weight in the air as the entire clan stood silent in the face of this startling gentleness.
“Stone in the Wall’s family is in no danger.” She heard the accent under the voice and she saw the blue-and-white swirls against sun-browned skin as the Skyman’s hands reached to help her up. Arla shrank back under her poncho hood.
“We come as the Servant of the Nameless came to their ancestors,” he went on. “To get help.”
How dare you … Arla forgot to keep her eyes down.
“Got you, Stone in the Wall.” The Skyman hauled her to her feet.
In that second, the clan poured out of their doorways and the fight was on.
The Notouch hefted the kettles and sickles. Arla tore her sling off her belt and whirled it over her head. She brought it across the Skyman’s temple while the Narroways lord was still fumbling for his sword. She whirled it again and took down the soldier unlucky enough to get in her way. Then she had to start ducking and running. The noise of metal on metal, and the screams of battle surrounded her. Eric appeared out of nowhere, dragging soldiers off the oxen and throwing them to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him haul off one in Teacher’s robes, dragging him back toward the huts.
What’s he doing? She had barely time for the thought before she was nose to nose with another of the soldiers and had more important things to deal with.
It probably didn’t last that long. Arla lost track. All she knew for sure was that there came a moment when she looked wildly around her and the only people standing were also of the clan.
A flash of brown and black darted out from a thicket of bamboo. Without even stopping to think, Arla took off at a run. Her quarry ran like an expert, dodging the worst of the mire and ducking low tree branches without breaking stride. A Notouch poncho and headcloth flapped behind them. Arla realized whom she must be chasing and adrenaline and anger gave her an extra burst of speed. She launched herself forward and threw all her weight against her quarry. With a “whoof!” of lost breath they both hit the marshy ground.
Branch in the River rolled over and swung her fist out. Arla scuttled backward and snatched her sling off her belt as they both scrambled to their feet. For a moment, they did nothing but stare at each other. Then Arla swung her arm slowly backward.
“You try to run and I will drop you like a dog before you get thirty feet,” she said.
“Do it, then.” Branch in the River gulped air and wiped soil off her face. “You want me dead anyway.”
“Oh, no.” Arla shook her head. “I want you alive. I want you to face the clan with all of them knowing who brought the soldiers and the Skyman down on us. You can either walk back or be dragged back. It’s your choice.”