Reclamation(158)

Branch glanced toward the open marsh and back toward Arla. Arla locked her elbow and held still, even though her arm was beginning to feel the strain. The adrenaline rush was leaving her and a slow trembling was taking hold of her limbs. If Branch did try to run, Arla wasn’t sure she could stop her.

With more dignity than Arla really wanted to see, Branch lifted her chin and began walking back toward the huts. Arla followed warily, her sling still in her hand.

Although the fight was over, the clan was still engaged in a flurry of activity. Several of them had picked up swords and were making sure no soldier would rise from the ground again. Others clustered around the oxen and the supply sledge, laying claim to the spoils of battle.

A shout went up as Branch in the River stepped into the clan’s view and Arla heard the distinctive whistle of a sling being swung. Before she could do anything, Nail in the Beam broke through the shifting crowd. A blanket of silence dropped across the clan. Arla’s breath caught in her throat.

Nail in the Beam stood directly in front of his second wife.

“Go home.” His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. “And know that I am glad my children have already been sent away.”

“I did what was right,” said Branch loud enough for every, ear to hear her. “I will answer any who challenge it.”

“You will answer.” Nail’s hands were trembling. “I just hope we will not have to answer with you. Go home.”

Branch, chin still held high, walked a straight line through the crowd and the clan returned to its grim work. Arla turned away, suddenly weary beyond belief.

“Mother?” Storm Water laid his hand on her arm.

“Your mother is all right,” Arla said, although she was not certain she spoke the truth. She squeezed his hand firmly and straightened her shoulders. “What’s happened to the Skyman?”

“He is fallen here.” Storm Water led her to the prostrate Skyman on the edge of the pond.

He was sprawled on his back. Arla laid her hands against his chest to feel for his breathing. It was ragged, but strong. He had a bruise from her sling, but was probably all right. Iron Shaper made his way through the crowd to them. He had a captured sword in his fist and he raised it over the Skyman’s head.

Arla held up her hand. “This one we keep. He’ll be able to tell us what’s going on.”

The smith grunted. “We need to sink the bodies.”

“Go ahead. Storm Water, go help unload the sledge.” Storm Water stayed where he was until she gave him a long, stern look. Then he ducked his head and trotted toward the gathering around the soldier’s supply sledge.

Awkwardly, Arla hefted the Skyman across her shoulders. He was deadweight and she was tired. She staggered into Shaper’s house and dropped him into a heap on the floor.

Eric stood by the fire circle with a burly man in Teacher’s clothing.

“Stone in the Wall dena Arla Born of the Black Wall,” Eric said, “this is my brother by marriage, Heart of the Seablade.” He spoke evenly. “He’s a Heretic, too, and he’d better understand something.” Eric’s stare could have set the walls on fire, the heat of the anger behind it was so intense. “If he tries to play any sneaking games this time, I’ll kill him with my own hands.”





16—The Lif Marshes, the Realm of the Nameless Powers, Afternoon


“May the universe be merciful and keep from me the truth about my ancestors.”

Tiac Hsi Chai, from “Genealogies”

ERIC STARED AT HIS BROTHER-IN-LAW. “And then what?”

“And then I accepted Jay’s advice that we try to find the family of this Stone in the Wall.”

Eric and Arla sat beside Iron Shaper’s fire, between Heart, the Skyman Jay, and the door. Shaper himself was outside with the rest of the clan, hopefully telling the rest of the clan to keep away while Eric and Arla “questioned” the Teacher and the Skyman.

It didn’t take much looking to see that the Notouch clan was getting nervous. Sunken corpses were one thing. Live witnesses to treason and heresy were quite another. Arla had pointed out, in her usual blunt style, that if the clan had too much time to think about what they had just done, it would not go well for the ones who had urged the attack. Eric believed her.

So he tried to remain quiet while Heart told him the story of the war between Narroways and First City, of his dealings with “Messenger of the Skymen,” and, finally, of the delegation to Narroways and the attack that came with it and how he had elected to go with the Heretics rather than stay with the delegation.

Yes, with them you had at least a chance of survival, thought Eric disgustedly. “So where is Mind of the Seablade?” he asked.