up to, or the Ben-Elim’s rules; fair enough,’ Calder said, ‘but they’ll not come up here and act like there are no rules at all.’
Drem pulled his breeches and boots on, wincing as muscles complained and bruises throbbed. His nose was swollen from where he’d been headbutted, and he was still blowing thick clots of blood from it.
This’d better be good, he grumbled to himself as he went in search of his da.
Drem found him sitting on the steps of their cabin, looking out onto the courtyard as dawn leached into the world. His da had been quiet, impenetrably so since the fight. He’d been troubled and withdrawn before that, thinking on the lump of black rock that he’d buried in the paddock, but since the fight Drem had felt as if he was living on his own.
‘You all right, Da?’ Drem said as he sat down beside him, shivering as a cold wind clawed his skin. His da just pointed into the distance, into the darkness. Drem frowned. There was a light, flickering small and bright in the ink-black of night.
‘What?’ Drem whispered. ‘Is that a fire? In the Bonefells?’
‘Would have to be a big fire,’ his da said, a frown turning his face into a place of deep-shadowed valleys.
‘Don’t like the look of that,’ Drem muttered. Absently, he pressed fingers to his neck, found the soothing rhythm of his pulse.
‘And look, there,’ Olin said, twisting to point to the southwest. There was another pinprick of light, smaller and fainter than the first.
They turned back and watched the closer flame in silence as dawn pushed back the night, shadows solidifying, then slowly dissolving as darkness retreated before light, the fire up in the Bonefells dimming with the coming of the sun in a grey, cloud-bloated sky.
Looks like snow, Drem thought, his breath misting.
‘All my life I’ve tried to protect you,’ his da said, breaking the silence. ‘Ever since your mam …’ A muscle in his jaw twitched and he pinched his nose. ‘I swore to keep you from harm. To keep you from war, from the evil that men do. Not just men – other things.’
Aye, you’ve watched over me every step. But what is it you’re so scared of? What is it you’re protecting me from? What does ‘other things’ mean?
‘The Kadoshim?’ Drem whispered.
Olin shrugged. ‘Aye. And their kin.’ A silence settled between them again, Drem’s da clearly thinking on the past. Drem wanted to prompt him to speak, but feared to rush him, knew that his da could easily go the other way. He liked to hear him talking like this, so he took a long, steady breath and concentrated on controlling his frustration.
‘That’s why we have travelled, kept moving, just you and me, Drem,’ his da said with a sigh. He reached out a hand and patted his son’s knee. ‘And it’s worked, so far. For sixteen years I’ve kept us moving, running ahead of the tide. But it’s remorseless.’
‘What tide, Da? Running from what?’
‘I’ve told you,’ Olin said, waving his hand vaguely towards the south.
‘Never straight, you haven’t. More in riddles than facts.’
‘Never mind that, now,’ his da said, a clear end to that line of conversation. Olin fell silent, eyes distant.
Has he committed a crime, been hunted for something?
Olin shook his head, sucked in a deep breath and looked at Drem. ‘You don’t like to fight, I saw that in you the other day.’
‘I’m sorry, Da,’ Drem said. ‘I wish I was as brave and—’
‘You are brave,’ his da interrupted, a fierceness in his voice. ‘I asked Fritha what happened. She told me what you did. You, against eight men. Trying to protect the weak, the outnumbered. It reminds me of an oath I once heard …’ He was silent again. ‘Knowing what kind of man you’ve become, makes me prouder than I can tell you.’ He put a hand over his heart, his lips twisted, but no words came out.
Drem wanted to say something in response, but his da’s speech had hit him like a hammer, stolen his words and set a lump growing in his throat that words couldn’t get past, anyway.
‘I wish your mam was here to see you now.’
I wish that, too.
They sat in silence awhile, Drem feeling happier than he could remember.
‘You’re a good learner, Drem,’ his da said. ‘You listen; you think things through. Like talking sense to people, showing some kindness, and some manners.’
‘Aye, well, I’ve seen you do it,’ Drem said. ‘Seen it work.’
‘It does, most