The Hob's Bargain

Jarol? You lost your brothers in the fighting at the manor.”
    â€œAye,” replied Jarol’s laconic voice from somewhere behind me. I was dizzy, so I didn’t turn to look at him. “But I’ve another brother, a wife, and two children. Happen I would be happy if the fighting stopped.”
    Jarol was a mild-mannered farmer, slow to anger. A clever man, too. I wasn’t surprised by his reply. Nor would Merewich have been. That Merewich called upon him told me the headman wanted this truce, and was too smart to jump enthusiastically at it until the village was behind him.
    â€œAren?” asked Merewich without looking at me.
    He took me by surprise, for I’d no idea he’d noticed me—besides, who would listen to me? “About what, exactly? I just got here.” The spirits I held, sensing my preoccupation, chose to fight for their freedom again. I could have drawn on the strength of one and held them all. I felt the power gathered for the asking, but I chose not to ask. Instead, I drew on the remnants of stubbornness that were all mine to use.
    â€œAren?” Merewich frowned, turning his head.
    Kith shouldered his way to my side and gripped my arm, but I shook him off irritably. “They’ve come to ask for truce,” he said. “Their captain is dead, deposed by this man.” He nodded toward Rook.
    â€œShe’s the one who warned us when the creatures attacked us from the hills,” said Rook after a moment. “It’s because of her actions I thought we stood a chance of sharing this valley.”
    I nodded my head. That was right. Silly me, they’d killed my family and …I bit my lip to clear my head. The impulse to cry “Kill them all” came from the blood lust of those I held and not from any need I had for revenge. Revenge I would save for the bloodmage. At that thought the spirits grew silent, but there was an eagerness now in their waiting stillness.
    For now, I had to think. I was a speaker; that should mean something here, too. If only I could think clearly. I had a talk with Kith once. He’d said something about the men he’d fought with….
    â€œFighting men learn to follow the man who leads them—not just orders, but obedience.” My voice was slurring a bit, and I had to overpronounce everything so my audience could understand me. “They have to know what he wants and do it before he asks—otherwise they will die.” That much was true. “They cannot afford to ask themselves if what he wants is right or wrong, not if they want to survive. If they cannot fight together, they will die. Just like Fallbrook.”
    Poul’s mother was there, and I met her gaze. “The deeds of the mercenaries must fall upon their captain’s back.” Each person is responsible for his actions , I thought. But there was too much guilt here. If we didn’t give some of it to the dead, we would all drown in it.
    I took a deep breath through my nose. “Their captain was a ravening beast—I saw him slay one of his wounded out of hand. The mercenaries had to follow his lead. Would you blame a herd dog for following the directions of the shepherd?” I looked at Rook. Who would have named a blond man for a raven? Perhaps it was all the sparkly things on his clothes. Steady, Aren , I thought, keep your mind on the business at hand.
    â€œThis man is a decent man. I have seen that.” I paused, looking at the smith’s wife, Poul’s mother, and the others who’d been in the yard when I’d killed the pikka. “You all understand what it is to do a wrong thing because you feel you must.” Suddenly I was so tired I could barely form the words. “Let us have peace.”
    There had been magic in my words, but I couldn’t tell if it had done any good. I was too tired to worry about it.
    Merewich called another’s name, but I didn’t hear who it was. Merewich would make peace if the villagers let him. I worked my way through the crowd toward the stable.
    The morning sun was rising, and I had a place to be.

TWELVE
    I saddled Duck, fumbling with the knot of the cinch. My fingers were clumsy, so finally I took the saddle off altogether. Holding the spirits seemed to be affecting my coordination; moving was like wading through deep water.
    Slowly, I climbed the side of the stall to mount. Duck gave me an odd look, but stood patiently while I steadied