Ugh!" I had to twist the arrow to retrieve it. The sound of it squishing through his innards was sickening.
"Why exactly do I have to do this?" I complained, the arrow shaft felt slimy to the touch. The rider's one good eye stared back at me; the other couldn't stare. It was too busy housing an arrow.
"We're not lords, boy. Do you know how much a full quiver costs?" Grantho asked from the fireside. He held Neul down, pouring a pungent mixture onto a gash on the boy's arm. Neul squirmed, trying to escape, but Uncle was too strong for him. Too strong and too wicked.
"We could make more. I could make more."
"Aye. We'd be fletching arrows while the King's men scour the country for Norsemen." Neul let out a sharp cry and received a knock on the head for his trouble. "Shut up," Grantho growled.
I turned back to the corpse and pulled. The man's jaw came loose with the shaft.
"Gods," I muttered in disgust. Something caught the firelight—a faint glimmer beneath his chainmail.
A locket.
I reached for it, careful to avoid the slack jaw. Inside was a painting of a girl with black hair and blue eyes. The name Sofia was engraved on the side. I looked at the dead man and thought of the family left waiting... then remembered the village. He was a Kingsman. He deserved it.
I continued retrieving arrows, but now I stopped to check for personal items. A lock of hair tied in parchment. A letter. A painting of a lady. They all deserved it.
Sodscub returned to the fire, his muzzle gleaming with fresh blood and brown fur that wasn't his. Grantho rose in excitement.
"You greedy bastard. Where's the kill?" The bear sat on its rump like a man and began to groom itself. Grantho studied the beast for a moment, knuckles whitening, before giving up. He made his way toward me. "You find anything of value on them?"
"No," I lied, my bounty stashed deep within the quiver.
"Ugh." Grantho ran a hand through his matted beard. "We'll need coin." He kicked a log into the flame. "Alright lads. Stay close to that greedy bastard. I'll go find what's left of whatever he killed." He turned to me, his gaze hard. "If anything moves, shoot it."
I nodded, my jaw set. I watched Grantho wander out of the firelight and disappear into the trees.
I waited for a few minutes, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading into the woods. Soon it was the flies, the heavy breathing of Sodscub and Neul shuffling next to him, that remained. I pulled several arrows out of the quiver and reached for the locket. Its silver caught the dying fire.
"He didn't talk about them," Neul said, his voice low and hollow. I jolted, nearly dropping the silver.
"What?"
"Uncle." He ran his hand through the bear's belly fur. "He didn't talk about Mother and Father."
"Oh." I lowered the locket. The memory of my parents' faces in that hell, their eyes unseeing... the Red Woman. Grantho didn't have to say a thing. I knew they were dead. "It's better that way."
"Do you think they're in heaven? Mother always said when we die, we go to the Great Mother." He looked at me, and I almost choked on a sob. Neul's eyes were boring so deep I had to turn away.
"Yes... I believe they are."
Neul sighed. I looked at the boy in amazement. I expected him to cry his heart out, but there he was, removing ticks from a bear's fur while I was barely holding it together. The chase had been good in its own sick way; I hadn't had the time to feel sorry for myself. But now, sitting with my brother surrounded by the dead...
"You were good with your bow," Neul remarked, his voice high against the silence.
I chuckled lightly and bowed my head. "You think so?"
"Yes. You've been practicing?"
"Mhmm." I nodded, staring at the raw wounds on my fingertips. A month ago I couldn't hit a target; today I didn't miss one. I couldn't understand the logic of it, no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was going mad, but even my brother noticed. Grantho had no idea I was the one who made the kills. He wouldn't believe it.
I looked up to find Neul sleeping, his head nested in Sodscub's fur. My own eyelids suddenly felt heavy.
If anything moves, I'd notice. Plus that stupid bear is here, nobody's stupid enough to harm kids with a bear.
My eyelids dropped and I immediately fell asleep.
***
SMACK!!
A brutal slap brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to see my uncle standing over me, his eyes filled with apprehension and an angry smear of blood across his face.
"Ouch!" I cried.
"You can't even protect your brother!" he hissed.
"That's enough!" another voice called out.
I spun to see arrows pointed at us from every shadow. Sodscub was growling, a low sound in his chest, ready to slaughter—but there were hundreds of them.
Grantho already had his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Don't even think about it, Norseman. I'd have you riddled with arrows before you draw your blade."
Their banners flapped in the night sky. They were not the banners of the King. They all dirty and worn and the emblem of a red woman with fiery eyes lay stitched on them.
"Leave us be," Grantho said, his voice level. "We have neither coin nor birthright for you."
"Aye." A tall, slender man walked out of the shadows."But you have life. And there's a market for everything."
He barked a command and lassos whistled through the air, wrapping around Sodscub. The bear dragged the man on the first rope several meters forward like a toy, but more coils followed, tangling his limbs. Grantho watched helplessly, pushing me and Neul behind him for protection. Sodscub fell to the ground, thrashing and roaring at his captors.
"That's a fucking big bear," one of the men remarked.
"Aye, haven't seen one this big." One man produced a knife and eyed the beast. "I wonder how it'd taste."
"You Norsemen are strange," the leader said ignoring his men. "You travel with beasts of unpredictable nature. I have to admit, your feral lives impresses me."
"Let the children go," Grantho stepped forward, his voice gravelly. "You outlaws need men-at-arms. I am a good one."
"That I can see." The leader gestured toward the bodies of the King's men. "But we can't leave children alone in the woods. Especially with bears and Kingsmen roaming the country. That would be uncharitable."
Sodscub snapped at the leaders boots, straining against the ropes. The leader turned back toward my uncle and offered a gloved hand.
"Fear not, Norseman. An enemy of the King is an ally of mine."