Mortal Consequences by Clayton Emery

of his free hand at Sunbright’s face to break his nose.
    But the barbarian ducked, relying on nimbleness to save himself against the heavier man. Lashing out with both hands pointed, he struck Delmar’s throat with fingertips like blunt spears. The big man’s howl was cut off as he gagged. Yet he resisted doubling over into more blows; instead he snapped his head back. That suited Sunbright, who rammed the heel of his own hand upward from near the ground. Catching Delmar’s chin, he banged the man’s mouth shut with a frightful clack of bruised teeth. Stunned, the wrangler took three awkward steps backward, and crashed on his back.
    Still raging, Sunbright hopped after him, and landed with both moosehide-booted feet on Delmar’s belly. Shouting a war whoop, he jumped viciously on his fallen foe’s belly, and nearly ruptured the wrangler’s guts. Despite being stunned, Delmar folded in half around Sunbright’s big foot, but the barbarian kicked free, hopped back, and aimed to kick the man’s head off. Dimly he heard his lover cry, “Sunbright, no!”, but he never paused.
    Nor did he complete the kick. A noose sailed from overhead, dropped around his shoulders, snuggled around his elbows, and snapped tight. Someone strong tugged hard, and he crashed on his rump for the third time, and found it sore. He was dragged backward as if hitched to a horse, then someone grabbed his horsetail and slammed his head to the ground. A painful jolt shot through his skull as gravel bit his scalp.
    Struggling to get loose, Sunbright found a large boot pinning his chest. Aselli, caravan mistress, was silhouetted against the gray sky. In her hand bobbed an axe handle, inches from Sunbright’s forehead.
    “Lie still and settle down, northman,” Aselli growled, “or I’ll crease your skull, and leave you for the wolves.”
    Helpless, Sunbright laid still. Knucklebones crouched beside his head, searched for permanent damage, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye for shame.
    Actually, now that battle-rage had left him, he was ashamed of himself. He shouldn’t have been prodded into a brawl. Fighting for pride was stupid, and for the moment, so was he.
    Aselli stamped off, ordering Jun to plant his boot on Sunbright’s chest. A moment later, the caravan mistress returned, lugging Sunbright’s satchels, sword, and tackle. She dropped them in the dust, fished in a purse, counted out seven silver crowns, and sprinkled them over the pile. Her white-framed face was grim. “We’ll go on, but you lie quiet. If we see you follow, we’ll play at target practice. I’ve stomached your stiff-necked pride and bristly hide too long. We’re close enough to Quagmire that I don’t need a pigheaded bodyguard who picks fights.”
    “It wasn’t I who sneered—”
    “Save it! If I want an argument, I’ll visit my daughters-in-law. Give me back my rope, and don’t act cute, or I’ll coldcock you.”
    Relieved of boot and rope, Sunbright remained lying in the road with elbows propped. He and Knucklebones watched the dazed Delmar muscled up and across a mule. Aselli called, “Get ‘em goin’!”, and the caravan plodded down the road. No one looked back at the barbarian and thief.
    When the wagons rounded a bend under green, leafy oak trees, Sunbright picked himself up, and dusted himself off. Limping from hammered and sprained muscles, he trudged to a roadside stream, washed his face and hands, and slaked his thirst. Then he strapped on his tackle.
    “I hope you’re happy.” They were Knucklebones’s first words in a long while. “We don’t get pitched out of enough taverns and marketplaces and towns, and now you’ve been chucked off a caravan. What’s your object? To aggravate every human being in the empire so you can become a hermit in some mountain cave?”
    A slight exaggeration, but only just. Since leaving the Iron Mountains last winter, the pair had wandered north, and worked as needed. Sunbright had gathered game, split