Servant of a Dark God - By John Brown Page 0,57

enough to let him nock a second. A second arrow that he could send into one of their hearts.

That meant he had to wait until they were closer.

Talen bent and looked out the knothole again. It was definitely a girl and a boy. These were the hatchlings. He gauged the distance between them and the privy. He stood and slowly lifted away the bar that secured the door. Then he picked up his bow and nocked the first arrow. He reminded himself that he was an expert shot. He might not pull a bow as strong as Ke’s, but what he did pull was deadly enough for a girl and a boy.

He did not have enough space to draw his bow in the privy. He didn’t want to wait for them to open the door on him anyway. That would be far too close. So he’d have to kick the door open, then draw.

But he didn’t need to deliver a mortal shot the first time. He only needed to wound and surprise. Once he’d done that, he could take a bit more time aiming the second arrow.

This was not going to be hard. He could do this.

Talen took one more breath. Now was the time. They should only be a few paces away.

He kicked the door with all his might, but it banged off of something and swung back at him.

Someone grunted.

Lords, he’d kicked it into one of them.

The shock of his miscalculation panicked him. He tried to draw his arrow and step back, but the privy bench got in the way and he fell onto the wall.

He expected the door to fly open and one of them to rush him with claw and fang. But the door just hung ajar.

He heard the padding of feet running away, and felt relief. Then he realized they were running. They were getting away.

He kicked the door again, and this time it flew wide and banged against the outside of the privy.

The girl ran, holding the boy’s hand. They ran like the wind toward the old house and the woods.

He took a step forward and drew the string to his chin. Calm, he had to be calm. The string was locked behind his thumb ring. He had practiced this thousands of times. There were days when Da had demanded he draw and release his bow five hundred times. He had used up eight bows over the years, drawing, then relaxing the position of his thumb ever so slightly so that the string might jump away.

The precise moment of the perfect release, he had learned, would always come as a small surprise.

The string hummed and Talen watched the arrow fly. It snicked away into the dark, a perfect shot. But the hatchlings darted left toward the old house just as the arrow flew from his hand, and Talen’s first shot missed.

He strung the second arrow. “Ware!” Talen shouted. “Ware!” He yelled again, and saw Nettle throw open the door just about the same time the creatures disappeared behind the old house.

Talen ran to get a clear view of the open space between the old house and the woods. The thing would not escape this time. But when he got a view of the open space, he saw nothing.

Nettle came stumbling out with his bow in one hand and a half-lit torch in the other.

“They’re here!” said Talen. “I’ve seen them with my own eyes. They’re behind the old house.”

He and Nettle cautiously approached the old house. It was the first place his father and mother had built. Talen had slept in it now and again until a snake had come wiggling through the ceiling one night to land on him. Such were the hazards of sod roofs. Now it was only used to store things and shelter the dogs who had dug their warren underneath the old floorboards.

Talen and Nettle split apart, giving the house a wide enough berth, positioning themselves so that each covered two of the house’s four walls.

“Nothing,” said Nettle.

Where could they have gone? Talen realized he’d given the creature the opportunity to slip in the front door of the house both this and the time before.

He swung his bow and pointed it at the door.

“Open it,” said Talen to Nettle.

River called out from the house. “Talen? What’s going on?”

“We’ve got them in the old house!” he yelled back.

Talen nodded at the door. “Go on. Here’s something real. Open it.”

Nettle looked at the door. “Right,” he said. “Cover me.” Then he

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