whiten his knuckles. “Stay at your post,” he mocks, as he bends down to cut a fresh piece of grassy sod and stuff it into the Guardsman’s mouth. “I’m just going to finish that steer.” Heldo-Bah drops the captive’s brass armlet on the ground. “Here,” he says. “Let your god keep you company. And pray, boy …”
Only when Heldo-Bah is out in the open plain does he realize that he and his friends have wasted too much time with their various amusements: other members of Lord Baster-kin’s Guard will arrive before long, to find out what has so upset the cattle. Heldo-Bah takes the ball of hatred that has been fixed all his life on Broken, and momentarily redirects it to the wounded animal: he locks eyes with the it, in a manner that transfixes the steer for an instant—long enough to allow Heldo-Bah to leap onto the beast’s thick neck and gain an unshakable purchase with his strong legs. Then, in one expert motion, he reaches around with his gutting blade and slits the animal’s throat, sending a spray of hot blood across the winded Veloc’s legs. In seconds the steer has collapsed, and Heldo-Bah leaps back to the ground, rubbing dirt into the blood on his tunic.
“Trust you to bungle it, Veloc,” he says, as Keera prostrates herself before the head of the dead steer.
“An excellent maneuver, Heldo-Bah,” Veloc answers angrily. “A pity you couldn’t have managed it earlier!”
“Be still!” Keera orders; and then she turns to the steer again, murmuring several phrases indistinctly, yet earnestly.
“She fears its wrath,” Veloc whispers. “It did not die quickly.”
“No—and we’ve tarried too long here, as a result,” Heldo-Bah replies—although not loud enough for Keera to hear.
Within seconds, Keera is on her feet, having begged the steer, as Veloc said, for mercy. “Hurry, both of you,” she says, as she cuts away one of the steer’s haunches. “Heldo-Bah, if you want your precious back straps, you can cut them out yourself.”
Heldo-Bah quickly gets the carcass of the steer open and its guts out onto the Plain in a steaming mass. Working deeper, he neatly harvests the long pieces of muscle that run astride the spine, delicacies he has dreamed of for many days; and he does all of this in less time than it takes the other two foragers to remove the second haunch. The three make ready to run back to the river and their waiting bags—but they go only a few steps before Keera stands alarmingly still, ordering the other two to wait. Heldo-Bah and Veloc see fear suddenly widen her eyes.
“The panther?” Heldo-Bah whispers.
Keera shakes her head once quickly. “No—wolves.
Many
…”
Veloc looks back at the remains of the steer. “Come for the carcass?”
Keera shakes her head, disturbed. “They may have smelled the blood, but—they’re in
that
direction. The place where we—”
The noises that erupt from the spot where the three Bane left the bound Broken Guardsman make further explanation unnecessary: none of the foragers needs to see what is happening to know that the pack of wolves has decided to move in swiftly on the easiest meal. The agonized screams of the helpless soldier indicate the pack is working fast: in half a minute the screaming is stifled, and the howls are replaced by the growls of feeding.
Keera knows that any wolves that do not get an immediate place at the Guardsman’s body will come looking for other meat, and the smell of the steer’s blood will so embolden them that they will take long chances against humans. “We must move in a wide circle and back over the river,” she says. “Quickly—the other soldiers must have heard that.” She starts to move, and Veloc keeps pace behind her; but Heldo-Bah hesitates.
“You two go ahead,” he declares. “I want that brass armlet.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Veloc snaps. “You heard what Keera said.”
“Take the back straps,” Heldo-Bah answers, tossing the bloody pieces of beef
Only when Heldo-Bah is out in the open plain does he realize that he and his friends have wasted too much time with their various amusements: other members of Lord Baster-kin’s Guard will arrive before long, to find out what has so upset the cattle. Heldo-Bah takes the ball of hatred that has been fixed all his life on Broken, and momentarily redirects it to the wounded animal: he locks eyes with the it, in a manner that transfixes the steer for an instant—long enough to allow Heldo-Bah to leap onto the beast’s thick neck and gain an unshakable purchase with his strong legs. Then, in one expert motion, he reaches around with his gutting blade and slits the animal’s throat, sending a spray of hot blood across the winded Veloc’s legs. In seconds the steer has collapsed, and Heldo-Bah leaps back to the ground, rubbing dirt into the blood on his tunic.
“Trust you to bungle it, Veloc,” he says, as Keera prostrates herself before the head of the dead steer.
“An excellent maneuver, Heldo-Bah,” Veloc answers angrily. “A pity you couldn’t have managed it earlier!”
“Be still!” Keera orders; and then she turns to the steer again, murmuring several phrases indistinctly, yet earnestly.
“She fears its wrath,” Veloc whispers. “It did not die quickly.”
“No—and we’ve tarried too long here, as a result,” Heldo-Bah replies—although not loud enough for Keera to hear.
Within seconds, Keera is on her feet, having begged the steer, as Veloc said, for mercy. “Hurry, both of you,” she says, as she cuts away one of the steer’s haunches. “Heldo-Bah, if you want your precious back straps, you can cut them out yourself.”
Heldo-Bah quickly gets the carcass of the steer open and its guts out onto the Plain in a steaming mass. Working deeper, he neatly harvests the long pieces of muscle that run astride the spine, delicacies he has dreamed of for many days; and he does all of this in less time than it takes the other two foragers to remove the second haunch. The three make ready to run back to the river and their waiting bags—but they go only a few steps before Keera stands alarmingly still, ordering the other two to wait. Heldo-Bah and Veloc see fear suddenly widen her eyes.
“The panther?” Heldo-Bah whispers.
Keera shakes her head once quickly. “No—wolves.
Many
…”
Veloc looks back at the remains of the steer. “Come for the carcass?”
Keera shakes her head, disturbed. “They may have smelled the blood, but—they’re in
that
direction. The place where we—”
The noises that erupt from the spot where the three Bane left the bound Broken Guardsman make further explanation unnecessary: none of the foragers needs to see what is happening to know that the pack of wolves has decided to move in swiftly on the easiest meal. The agonized screams of the helpless soldier indicate the pack is working fast: in half a minute the screaming is stifled, and the howls are replaced by the growls of feeding.
Keera knows that any wolves that do not get an immediate place at the Guardsman’s body will come looking for other meat, and the smell of the steer’s blood will so embolden them that they will take long chances against humans. “We must move in a wide circle and back over the river,” she says. “Quickly—the other soldiers must have heard that.” She starts to move, and Veloc keeps pace behind her; but Heldo-Bah hesitates.
“You two go ahead,” he declares. “I want that brass armlet.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Veloc snaps. “You heard what Keera said.”
“Take the back straps,” Heldo-Bah answers, tossing the bloody pieces of beef
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