The Hob's Bargain
own bootlaces without help. Had she encouraged these people to kill him?
Since everyone was too scared to come closerâscared of me or the pikka, I didnât want to guessâI left the pikkaâs cloaked body and hurried to Poul. Poul, whoâd saved me by using magic to give me the knife.
Poul lay limp, but I could see his chest rise and fall. His shoulder was a mess. Someone should have been trying to stop the bleeding while I was fighting the pikka. Heâd lost a lot of blood.
I could almost hear Gramâs dry voice saying, âThe bleeding will ensure the wound is cleanâif it doesnât kill him.â
I stripped out of Caulemâs green tunic, wadded it up, and pressed it into the wound. Poulâs mother knelt on Poulâs other side and pulled off her apron. She ripped it into strips and began wrapping the cloth around his shoulder over the tunic, to hold it in place.
âItâs bled freely enough to take care of most chances of infection,â I said, my voice sounding shaky to my ears. âMy gram would tell you to leave the bandaging alone for a bit to let the bleeding stop.â
âIâve been tending my menfolk long before you were born,â she said in the same sour tones sheâd always used to hide her soft heart.
I backed away from Poul, glad he wouldnât dieâat least not today. My cloak lay in the mud where Iâd thrown it. Like me, it was covered in blood. Clad only in Caulemâs thin linen undershirt, I shivered in the cold.
I couldnât look at any of the people in the yard. They were the core of the hatred that threatened the village every bit as much as the bloodmage and the earth spirit. I couldnât bear it. So I walked to the pikka Torch had killed. Kithâs horse had done a fair job at pounding it flat. I took a close look at the wounds and noticed blistering where Torchâs iron-shod hooves had touched flesh.
I pulled the cloak off the one Iâd killed. This one had taken far less damage. Long, black fangs showed through lips pulled back by death. It looked more like a small bear than a dog or cat, but its face was narrower. The pikkaâs side was caved in where my staff had hit it. It would have died soon even if I hadnât managed to slit its throat.
Someone threw a dry cloak around my shoulders. I looked up to meet Poulâs motherâs eyes.
âIâve got to go,â I said abruptly. âI have business to attend to. Someone might get the priestâhe and Koret have been studying the new creatures thatâve been plaguing us. Tell him that I think itâs a creature the hob called a pikka.â
âWeâll take care of it,â she said.
I looked away and nodded. âThanks. If more show up, you might try fighting them with steel. The hob says that some of the wildlings are sensitive to it.â
Torch was waiting patiently, his rump turned so he wasnât facing into the rain. I looked him over for wounds as best I could in the dimming light. His legs and underside were covered with mud. He didnât limp when I walked him out. I swung to the saddle and settled the cloak so it didnât interfere with riding.
âAren,â she said.
I looked up.
âWhen people are hurt and scared, they do stupid things. Cruel things.â
I thought about Touched Banar and glanced around the yard at the people clustered about Poul, people who almost certainly had something to do with Banarâs death. The smithâs wife looked up and met my eyes briefly.
I rubbed my face wearily, heartsick, and said, âI hope that thought comforts you, madam.â I was going to do something evil myselfâwho was I to judge these people? âI hope it comforts me, too.â
I think she would have said something more, but I leaned forward and Torch lifted into an easy canter, then popped back over the hedge.
I CALLED THE SPIRITS OF THE BOG FIRST, THINKING IT was only just to follow the order Caefawn had laid out. Ghosts, with their ties to bloodmagic, I would leave alone.
The ground gave off sucking sounds as I stepped closer to the bog. My call was strong, driven by my anger and by my hatred of the kind of person I was soon to become. My call echoed in my head like a shepherdâs horn.
The noeglins came, not just one this time but all of them. As my call strengthened, I could feel them inside my head, a great, dark wave of maliciousness.
Iâd
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