Red Country by Joe Abercrombie

as a board, brushed away the leaves stuck to his face with fumbling fingers.
    ‘Is it your brother?’ muttered Leef.
    ‘No.’ She was almost sick with relief. Then with guilt that she was relieved, when this boy was dead. ‘Is it yours?’
    ‘No,’ said Leef.
    Shy slid her hands under the dead child and picked him up, struggled up the slope, Leef behind her. Lamb stood staring between the trees at the top, a black shape stamped from the glow of
sunset.
    ‘Is it him?’ came his cracking voice. ‘Is it Pit?’
    ‘No.’ Shy laid him on the flattened grass, arms stuck out wide, head tipped back rigid.
    ‘By the dead.’ Lamb had his fingers shoved into his grey hair, gripping at his head like it might burst.
    ‘Might be he tried to get away. They made a lesson of him.’ She hoped Ro didn’t try it. Hoped she was too clever to. Hoped she was cleverer than Shy had been at her age. She
leaned on the wagon with her back to the others, squeezed her eyes shut and wiped the tears away. Dug the bastard shovels out and brought them back.
    ‘More fucking digging,’ spat Leef, hacking at the ground like it was the one stole his brother.
    ‘Better off digging than getting buried,’ said Lamb.
    Shy left them to the graves and the oxen to their grazing and spread out in circles, keeping low, fingers combing at the cold grass, trying to read the signs in the fading light. Trying to feel
out what they’d done, what they’d do next.
    ‘Lamb.’
    He grunted as he squatted beside her, slapping the dirt from his gloves. ‘What is it?’
    ‘Looks like three of ’em peeled off here, heading south and east. The rest struck on due west. What do you think?’
    ‘I try not to. You’re the tracker. Though when you got so damn good at it, I’ve no notion.’
    ‘Just a question of thinking it through.’ Shy didn’t want to admit that chasing men and being chased are sides to one coin, and at being chased she’d two years of the
harshest practice.
    ‘They split up?’ asked Leef.
    Lamb fussed at that notch out of his ear as he looked off south. ‘Some style of a disagreement?’
    ‘Could be,’ said Shy. ‘Or maybe they sent ’em to circle around, check if anyone was following.’
    Leef fumbled for an arrow, eyes darting about the horizon.
    Lamb waved him down. ‘If they’d a mind to check, they’d have seen us by now.’ He kept looking south, off along the treeline towards a low ridge, the way Shy thought those
three had gone. ‘No. I reckon they had enough. Maybe it all went too far for ’em. Maybe they started thinking they might be the next left hanging. Either way we’ll follow. Hope to
catch ’em before the wheels come off this cart for good. Or off me either,’ he added as he dragged himself up wincing into the wagon’s seat.
    ‘The children ain’t with those three,’ said Leef, turning sullen.
    ‘No.’ Lamb settled his hat back on. ‘But they might point us the right way. We need to get this wagon fixed up proper, find some new oxen or get ourselves some horses. We need
food. Might be those three—’
    ‘You fucking old coward.’
    There was a pause. Then Lamb nodded over at Shy. ‘Me and her spent years chewing over that topic and you got naught worth adding to the conversation.’ Shy looked at them, the boy
stood on the ground glowering up, the big old man looking down calm and even from his seat.
    Leef curled his lip. ‘We need to keep after the children or—’
    ‘Get up on the wagon, boy, or you’ll be keeping after the children alone.’
    Leef opened his mouth again but Shy caught him by the arm first. ‘I want to catch ’em just as much as you, but Lamb’s right – there’s twenty men out there, bad men,
and armed, and willing. There’s nothing we could do.’
    ‘We got to catch ’em sooner or later, don’t we?’ snapped Leef, breathing hard. ‘Might as well be now while my brother and yours are still alive!’
    Shy had to admit he’d a point but there was no help