Blood Red Road

things’ll look a lot brighter.
    We lead the horses to a lean-to. There’s a few horses there already, includin a big piebald mustang an a sturdy little gray donkey huddled together fer warmth. They flick their ears an whicker softly as we tie our horses next to ’em.
    See? says Jack. We ain’t th’only ones here. We’ll git settled in first, then we can deal with the gear an the horses.
    There’s a candle burnin in th’only window, a narrow slit set halfways along the wall. Jack rings the bell beside the battered old wood door. Right away, the candle goes out.
    Looks like yer friend Ike don’t want company, I says.
    Probly heard you was comin, says Jack, all sour faced.
    He tries the rusty latch. It don’t move. He bangs on the door with his fist. Thud thud thud. Thud thud thud.
    Ike! he shouts. Ike Twelvetrees! It’s me! It’s Jack! Let me in!
    Nuthin.
    Hey! Open up! I yell an pound on the door. I go to try an shoulder it open, but Jack holds me back.
    Hang on, he says. There’s a knack to it. He leans back, lifts his leg an gives the door a almighty kick. It flies open. He goes in an we trail behind.
    We see ’em right away.
    I snatch my crossbow an take aim.
    Beside me, Ash an Epona do the same.

    Hold fire! says Jack.
    My heart pounds wildly. We keep our crossbows up, bowstrings drawn, arrows ready to fly.
    We stare at the men who face us, their weapons at the ready. There’s at least twelve of ’em. On their feet, with blades, bows an flintsticks pointed straight at us. They’re the most scurfy lookin pack of villains I ever seen in my life. A knife scar here, a eyepatch there, busted noses, missin ears, three fingers. They make the low-life scum of Hopetown look sweet as spring clover.
    I do a quick sweep of the room. Take everythin in. It’s one long room with a low ceilin. The fireplace in the center’s got a blazin fire goin. In front of the fire, there’s a large table with a stewpot in the middle an stone drink kegs.
    Wooden benches lay on their sides. Kicked over when they all jumped up.
    There ain’t no sound but the cracklin fire an the rain poundin down on the roof.
    Hello boys, says Jack. Nice to see y’all.
    Jest then, a man comes through a door in the corner that I didn’t notice before. He’s tall, at least six five, six six. He’s got a huge platter of roasted meat hefted onto one shoulder. He don’t even look our way as he goes over to the table an dumps the platter down. Then he starts over to us.
    Ike! says Jack. He steps forwards, smilin a big smile an holdin out his hand. Hey man, long time no see!
    But Ike don’t smile back. An he don’t take Jack’s hand.
    He walks straight up to him an punches him in the face.

    Jack goes sprawlin on the floor.
    Jack’s down. Hurt. The red hot rips through me. I ain’t felt it since Hopetown.
    I aim my bow at Ike an walk at him—fast—till he’s backed aginst the wall with his hands on top of his head. I press the arrowhead into his throat. He gulps.
    There’s a quick rush of feet an the men surround my back. Without takin my eyes offa Ike, I can feel their weapons pointed at me. Hear their breathin.
    It’s all right, Saba, Jack calls. Don’t kill him. I deserved it.
    Tell these dogs to stand down, I says to Ike.
    Weapons down, boys, or supper’s off, he says. He don’t move his eyes from mine.
    There’s a pause, then a clatter as guns an bows an knives hit the floor behind me.
    Epona? I says.
    Yer okay, she says. It’s all clear.
    I step back from Ike. Lower my bow. He feels his throat. Grins an shakes his head.
    Gawdammit, he says. I bin waitin fer a woman like you my whole life. Jack, I think I’m in love.
    Ferget it, Ike, says Jack. She’s far too dangerous fer the likes of you.
    Oh, says Ike, it’s that way, is it?
    He goes over to Jack, reaches down a hand an gives him a tug up. Jack rubs his jaw where Ike punched him.
    Don’t worry, says Ike, I didn’t do yer pretty face no harm. I should of though. After what you done to me.
    He glares at Jack an Jack actually looks shame-faced. Ike jabs him in the chest with a big meaty finger.
    You left me, you sonofabitch, he says, hangin upside down, stark naked, with all them women in their—
    Jack grabs his hand. Not now, Ike, he says. We’ll talk about it later.
    Not to mention the time you was supposed to meet me at Pat O’Dooley’s an I waited there like a stooky fer two months, with that little dog of his that’s always bitin at yer ankles, an all the