Tooth And Claw by K.T. Davies

Author:K.T. Davies [Davies, K.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-10T22:00:00+00:00

16

“It’s raining,” one of the mercenaries mentioned in passing, as though I might have missed it. I jumped off the cart and plodded towards the cull with the babe, taking the rain with me. As I drew closer I strengthened the spell and turned the light drizzle I’d created into a lashing downpour. By the time I reached the miserable tableau of startled burners, screaming woman, and tearful elders, I was soaked to the skin and smoke was rising twenty feet in all directions where the flames had been extinguished by the deluge.

“Don’t even think of relighting those fucking torches,” I said to the burners as I passed. They wisely took note of the warning in my tone, because as one they cast the smoking, tar-dipped brands away. “Look at me, being the bleeding hero,” I muttered to myself as I hitched up my silks and tiptoed through the mud.

The would-be immolationist didn’t hear me coming. He was squatting in what looked like the village square, weeping over the squirming, yelling bundle. When he felt the rain, he looked up and cursed. Buildings began to smolder and hiss as the fire was extinguished. Confused and overwrought the daft cull looked around, his tears lost in the blur of rain. “What a fucker, eh? Can’t even burn yourself to death,” I said.

“What?” He rubbed his eyes.

“The rain.” I gestured to the sky. “It’s as though the gods themselves don’t want you to fry yourself or the kid.” I made a space in the storm so that I didn’t drown those I’d come to rescue.

“Why do you care?” He narrowed his gaze as he saw me clearly for the first time. “What are you? Did Blight send you to torment me further? I’m going to kill us, isn’t death enough for you bastards?” Spit flew from his trembling lips. Despite his fury and his avowed intention, I noticed that he held the child protectively to his chest and half turned away from me, as though I was the frothing, murderous lunatic fixing to slay the brat.

“In truth, I don’t much care, but I have a friend who does, so it’s your lucky day.” He didn’t show any sign that he understood, his mind was spinning like a flywheel unable to grasp the simplest logic. “Listen, if it was up to me, I’d let you kill yourself and the brat, but then I’d get it in the ear, so, you know, I can’t let you burn to death, sorry.”

“You don’t understand.” He shook his head.

I laughed. “No, my friend, you’re not listening. I don’t care.” He stared at me, face as blank as a paving slab. “I tell you what, you seem like a fellow who’s reached his majority and as I’m not a monster, if you’re fixed on self-immolation I won’t stop you. Just hand over the babe.”

He clutched the child tighter. “I can’t. He’s cursed. The Holy Briar says we cannot suffer the unclean to live.” Snot and tears dripped from his nose.

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