The Hob's Bargain

I sat forward and braced my elbows on the table, trying to put the hob into words. "He told me to call him Caefawn. I told him… I don't remember what I told him. He took me to the manor to show me what he could offer—in return for something the village has that he needs. The raiders were everywhere. He killed some. So did I. But most of them he put to sleep or had chasing a white stag hither and yon." I took a deep swallow of the mead, feeling the warmth of it seep to my bones. I decided I was more tired than drunk. "He wants to meet with the village elders tomorrow. He said something about a hob's bargain. I think he wants to help. I think he might be able to." Certainly I was more tired than drunk. More tired than anything now, with the mead taking the soreness from my knee.

"Tomorrow morning?" asked Merewich.

"What does the hob want?" asked Koret.

"Don't know." I yawned and folded my arms on the table, resting my forehead against my forearms. I closed my eyes.

I could feel the two men stare at me. The bench shifted as Merewich moved toward Koret.

"What do you think?"

Koret grunted, then said, "If I hadn't heard the stories of what the Beresforders faced getting here, I'd not believe it. But… I suppose we'll know in the morning, eh?"

"I want to believe it," confessed Merewich, almost in a whisper. "I want to believe it very much—but I don't trust in hope anymore."

We marched up through the earth and into the enemy's home. Wooden boards and a heavy cloth covered the dirt beneath my feet, but I could still feel the earth's reassuring presence…

I awoke wide-eyed and breathing hard through my nose. Without questioning why I was in a strange room, I swung my legs from the bed and darted for the door. I bolted down the i

Too late, I thought, too late—but I hurried anyway.

The night air was still. The moon shone silver and gilt as it touched the cobbles of the i

Too late, I thought feverishly, too late.

Only a short way down the street from the i

The moon's illumination allowed me to take the flight of stairs that led to the bell rope without slowing. Caefawn must have been right about my knee—I hardly noticed it. Rough hemp cut into my fingers when I set my weight against the rope. I had to do it twice before the clear tolling of the bell rang through the streets.

For a moment the stillness of the night continued, then people spewed from their houses, children in the arms of adults. The crowd grew with silent efficiency, gathering around the bell to find out where the attack was coming from. The response was better than the last drill Koret had run.

"Belis!" I shouted to the quiet crowd, leaving off ringing the bell. "Has anyone seen the baker?"

They were begi

If he could.

I had seen just enough of the house in my vision to recognize the rug Gram had given Belis in return for a winter's supply of bread. I still wasn't certain what had invaded his house, but I had the impression that his house wasn't the only one they'd tu

No one would listen to me without proof, not if matters had gotten far enough out of hand that the villagers killed Touched Banar. If Kith were in the crowd, it wouldn't have mattered. No one gainsaid Kith, and I could count on him to back me up. But Kith didn't come out of the i

Just as I was ready to give in to despair (too late, too late), I saw a group of people coming down a side street from the north side of town. Belis, tall and thin, stood out from the crowd, and I felt something inside me relax.

I set the nut and pulled out the goatsfoot, using it to draw the string to the nut and hook it. I pulled a bolt from the quiver and set it in place. The bow at the ready, I aimed for the darkness behind the small group of people who joined the rest of the village.

"Aren?" Koret's voice was a soft murmur as he mounted the stairs. Cautious.

It occurred to me that I must appear a bit touched, standing on the railing, wearing a man's nightshirt, and aiming a bow at the shadows no one… But they ought to expect madness from someone who saw visions. Visions that had saved at least one man this morning.

There! I loosed the bolt and drew again, swearing at the time it took. After half a season's drilling, I no longer felt the strain in my forearms every time I cocked the bow, but it was not effortless and I wasn't as fast as I should be. The crossbow was not as quick as a longbow, and Kith, using one of the stirrup-drawn wooden bows, could outdraw me even with only one arm. But I could shoot almost as far as a good longbowman, and I hit what I aimed at.

"Damn it, girl," bellowed Koret, reaching for my bow, but a shout near the northeastern corner of the crowd stopped him.

There was a shift in the people as they turned to face the enemy gradually emerging from the side street Belis had come from only a few moments earlier. Someone called an order; children began to filter in from the edges to gather under the bell podium. All at once the relative hush of night gave way to the roar of battle.

Koret charged down the ladder, drawing his sword and leaving me to shoot at will. I loosed a bolt at another movement in the shadows.

Finally, from the darkness of the side street, a swarm of… something boiled into the street. In the uncertain light, I couldn't see them well. Better, I thought, if I didn't.

As ferociously as the villagers fought, we could not press back the tide of creatures. They were smaller than a man—I could see that much—perhaps only half as tall, though wider in the shoulders. Like a plague of locusts, there seemed to be no end to them.

They weren't hillgrims. If they had been, there would have been a lot more villagers lying in the mounting pile of bodies. Instead of the graceful movements of the grims, these new creatures moved with the stolid slowness of a great bull. Their arms hung almost to the ground, muscular and wickedly powerful—but mercifully slow. The villagers quickly learned to avoid the blows, and after the first few minutes I didn't see anyone fall. All the same, they pressed the villagers back by sheer strength of numbers.

Before I ran out of quarrels, Manta dashed up the stairs with two handfuls of bloody shafts.

"Here," he said shortly. "Koret sent these, says to stay where you are. You're doing more damage here than you would in the thick of things."

He was gone before I could thank him. The arrows were warm and damp, and I wished for my gloves, which were, I supposed, somewhere in the i

In the end it was the sun that saved us. As dawn began to show over Faran's Ridge, the creatures turned and sped away faster than they had come.

Spent, I slipped from my post on the railing. Laughter came unbidden—for once my sight had been in time. Just this once—but it helped make up for all the other times when I'd been too late. It was quiet laughter with a slightly hysterical touch, so I let it drift to silence beneath the soft moaning of the wounded lying in the streets.