I smiled so she’d hear it in my voice. “If it’s so pointless, why did you choose a name with five letters? Five is a powerful number, you lumbering, terrifying bunny-kisser.”
“I did not think about numbers at all. If you keep talking about kissing bunnies, I will stab you.”
“Five is an auspicious number all right. The only number that’s stronger is three.” I grinned. “Isn’t it?”
She walked away, I assumed to keep watch.
“You go on and wander in the dark,” I called after her. “Don’t feel inferior because I was the first one to strike a blow against Floppy-Ass.”
I checked that our horses were properly hobbled, and then I lay down to stare at the stars and maybe sleep.
Halla woke me after the yellow, gibbous moon had risen, and I took watch. Two calm, boring hours followed. I wished that I still drank, not that I would have drank on watch. It just would have been nice to contemplate a future drink. The moon was well up in the sky, and it washed the whole landscape from green into gray.
I spotted movement off to the west. The wind was calm, so I felt certain it wasn’t some blowing brush. “Halla.”
She rolled to her feet with hardly a sound, her weapon ready. I pointed west.
After ten or fifteen seconds, she shook her head. “What do you see? An antelope? Lion? Swarm of bees?”
“Hah! You may as well have both eyes put out. It’s two horses, one with a big rider.”
Halla hissed. “If you see them so clearly, what are they wearing?”
“Clothes. They’ll pass west of us unless they swing this direction.”
Halla knelt. “Let them pass.”
I knelt with her and watched for another few minutes. Then I stood up.
Halla’s raised eyebrows stood out in the soft light.
“It’s Whistler. And a woman on the other horse, or a big child.”
I shouted and waved. The riders stopped and scanned the area until they spotted me waving. They rode toward us.
I glanced at Halla. “Aren’t you going to say we should kill them?”
Her shoulders dropped a little. “I will wait to say it. Maybe they will decide to go away. Maybe they will stay here and build a farm together. This would make a nice farm.”
I turned to her with my mouth open. “That sounds almost sympathetic.”
Halla shrugged. “There is plenty of time to kill them later.”
Whistler’s horse blew and slobbered when he arrived. The woman joined us a moment later riding a side-stepping mule that looked as if it would feel more comfortable pulling a wagon.
I barked, “Lutigan’s piles! I’m going to break your gawky neck, Whistler!” Actually, he was much more physically imposing than me. “Why’d you come? I figured everybody was still at the party to celebrate my leaving town.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I saw those cut-up children back in Bindle. I swallowed and took a breath.
I squinted at the woman. “Why, you straggly little goat-knocker! Bea, are you possessed by some very stupid demon? That’s the only reason you’d be following us. I’ll have to cut off your hands and feet if you don’t ride right back home.”
Bea was a bar girl in the Bindle tavern, a wan, young widow with hair so dark brown it was almost black. Although I was a monstrous killer, she had sometimes smiled at me with kind eyes. I might have pursued her for a friendly romp or two before I left town, but the thought of such frolics left me empty these days.
Bea stared at me while her mule stamped.
At last, I turned to Whistler. “Why the hell are you here? Before you speak, understand that no matter what you tell me, I plan to chase you off anyway since you’re so plug-iron ignorant as to bring her with you.”
Bea slid off her mule while I was chastising Whistler. She walked toward me like she’d been planning her approach for a week. Her cheeks shone bright and slick with tears. In a throat-chafing voice born in her gut, she roared, “Give him back!” Then she hauled off and aimed a brutal kick at me. I’d have limped for a day if I hadn’t stepped aside.
She bellowed, “Running off like a coward! Murderer! Coward and murderer!” She lined up for another kick, and I skipped back.
I said, “Bea, I’m sorry I let that thing take your . . . ”
“My baby!”
“Your baby.”
“Give him back,” she grated.
I raised both hands. “I didn’t take him, or any of them! But I am headed, right now, to get him back. The others too.” I glanced at Halla, who stared at Bea with no expression.
Bea raised her chin. “I don’t trust you!”
“Normally, that would speak well of your instincts, Bea, but not in this case,” I said.
“Maybe you mean to get him, but you’re the kind who goes in for one drink and can’t find his way out for a week.”
“Two weeks,” Halla said.
I ignored her. “Bea, I feel for your difficulty. You can’t understand how much. But when the first arrow strikes, it will be in your heart. Or the first cut from an enemy will lop off your head. I see you’re brave, but you’ll be among hard killers and sorcerers. You’ll have no hope, and I will not haul you along to who the hell knows where just for you to die when you get there!”
Bea wrinkled her nose like she smelled something bad. “I’ll follow you.”
I glared at Whistler. “Look what you’re making me deal with, you squatting, box-brain, corncob-for-a-dick idiot!”
“Sorry.” Whistler didn’t appear scared, or even too sorry.
I stepped closer to Bea and risked a shattered kneecap. “I know that you’re a widow—”
Bea cut me off hard. “Yes, he’s dead. My other boys are dead too, and all my people. If Tobi’s dead, I’ll go on and die too.”
Halla stated, “You will not
