The Brat's Final Gambit

Chapter 7



Davin watched Bode and his followers retreat like punished dogs with their tails between their legs. He looked over at Niam, and could tell that he had been shaken.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” he said when he felt reasonably certain Bode wasn’t coming back. “I still think they might wait for you to come home, Niam.”

Niam shrugged his shoulders. “No,” he said. “Something’s up. They’re heading up past the barrens today or tomorrow . . . and it’s about more than torching a bunch of poor dogs. It’s got something to do with the Vandin.”

“What on earth would they want to do with the Vandin?” Maerillus asked, incredulous. “Everyone stays away from them.”

Before Niam could answer, Davin broke in. “Look guys, I really think it would be best if we got going.”

Maerillus nodded. “I agree.”

Niam cracked a wolfish smile. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’d kind of like to stick around and wait until they come back. I wanted to see you guys pitch them over the side of the bridge.”

Maerillus frowned sternly and Niam’s smile faltered. He grew embarrassed and looked down.

“Okay, okay,” he said and grew uncomfortably silent.

As they started walking toward town, Niam trailed behind them. He wore a brooding and pensive expression. Davin knew Maerillus was still tense too, so it didn’t surprise him when Maerillus looked back at Niam and bluntly told him, “You really came close to getting killed today. Salb’s crazier than Bode. There’s all kinds of wrong going on inside his brain. Sometimes your pranks go too far. If he had gotten his way, your parents would lose their only—”

“Shut up!” Niam suddenly shouted. “Shut up! Don’t go there, Maer! Don’t you dare!” he said stiffly and lengthened his stride.

As he passed them, Davin grabbed his arm, but Niam jerked it away. “Niam wait.” Niam continued to walk ahead, ignoring Davin’s pleas. This was not the first time either of them had lectured Niam on his impulsive instinct for trouble. He remained silent and his head was bowed as they made their way through the other side of town and struck off down the road that took them toward their homes. Eventually, Niam stopped and turned. His eyes were swollen and rimmed with red. “You don’t understand. None of you understand.” There was a long history of hurt in his voice. “I hate him.”

“I didn’t mean to make you angry,” Maerillus responded. “But I’ve never seen Bode willing to go that far.”

“He’s always taken it this far, Maer,” Niam said, wiping the moisture from his eyes with his hand.

“He’s tormented a lot of people,” Maerillus said softly. “I’m sorry you got the worst of it.”

“I’ve spent most of my life afraid—and you cannot know what that’s like, Maer. Neither of you can. I’m not as strong as Davin. I wasn’t raised to run an estate like you.” Niam looked away. He bent down, picked up a rock, and threw it in anger at a stump several feet away. The rock went wide and bounced across the ground until it came to rest in a clump of bristly broom sage. “Growing up, everyone teased me. One day I got sick of being the butt end of everyone’s jokes. If my life was going to be a joke, I figured I would make it my joke.”

“Look, the past year has been hard on you.”

Niam ignored him. “You didn’t hear the sick jokes he made about my brother and sister after they died! When I greased his stirrups I hoped he would fall and get hurt. When I set his pants on fire at last year’s Harvest Moon festival, I hoped he would get blistered!”

With that, Niam turned and hid his face from them. Davin put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging squeeze. They stood there in silence for a while. Carts and wagons loaded with everything from crates of squabbling chickens to bales of cotton and pipe tobacco rolled by on creaking wheels.

Davin looked at Maerillus. “You want to go to the estate so we can talk more?”

Maerillus shook his head. “No…I’m not certain, but something is up.”

“Oh?”

“Jort’s cabin burned down.”

“Dad told me,” Davin said. “He was a strange guy.”

Maerillus’s voice nearly dropped to a whisper. “I don’t’ think it was an accident.”

Davin and Niam looked at one another, shocked.

“You guys are right,” Niam spoke up. “We can go to my place, but there’s not much privacy there. What about your barn?” he asked Davin.

A short while later, as they walked into the barn, they heard horses whicker eagerly for their food. Davin climbed up into the loft where cobwebs crowned the rafters like smoky strands of gossamer. After he dropped several armfuls of hay into all of the stalls, he walked to the edge of the loft and looked down at his friends. Maerillus and Niam followed and plopped down in the loose hay. When Maerillus spoke, his words were heavy with concern.

“We don’t know how the fire started, but Dad was terribly upset.”

“The old guy was a bit touched,” Davin said. “The way he walked around talking to voices . . . yelling about demons and such, maybe he was so stuck in his own little world that he forgot to put out a lamp or something.”

“Dad thought so at first. Strange thing is, he went to tell Joachim about the fire, and both of them returned. They were really upset.”

“I wonder why,” Davin said quietly.

“Don’t know, but Joachim called on his physician and had the body carted away. I cannot be certain, but I think he had the body examined. Then they spent two days poking around the cabin’s ashes.”

“That is strange,” both Davin and Niam agreed.

“What’s even stranger is the carriage that pulled into Joachim’s manor today. It bore the royal crest. I was trying to find out as much as I could, and then I found out you had come by looking for me.”

“Sorry I interrupted you.”

Maerillus just shrugged. “I know one thing—whoever it was in the carriage is someone important.” Then he cleared his throat and looked around uncomfortably. “About the other thing . . . I thought I was going crazy,” he said.

“It really doesn’t feel like that does it?” Davin asked.

“No,” they both agreed.

“What does it feel like to go crazy?” Niam asked with a mirthless laugh. “I once knew a guy who barked at the moon, and he thought he was perfectly okay. I’m telling you, I followed a dead dog to an almost dead boy, and that sounds pretty crazy to me. And today, I actually argued with a voice.”

Maerillus nodded his head and tapped his temple. “Niam is right. Crazy people are the last to suspect they’re off up here. How many of us are hearing the voice?” he asked reluctantly, and then forced himself to admit, “I heard one too. It saved my life.”

Davin nodded his head. “Yeah, me too—after it sent me into a situation that almost got me killed.”

Another silence fell between them. When it became obvious that no one wanted to begin, Niam spoke up. Maerillus and Davin sat spellbound as Niam related the story about how he came across the dog on the overlook above Siler’s Lake, its antics, and how it led him to where Tim Hodshaer had fallen. When Maerillus finished with his story, Niam said stonily, “I’m sure Ravel had something to do with it.”

“Now wait a minute,” Davin said, playing to the opposite side, “I know none of us like him, but can we be sure he saw Jort and decided to kill him because he was afraid the old man had heard him talking to Jon? For that matter, Maer said he sat there for a while. He very well might have walked to the barn after Ravel was long gone.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Maerillus said, “because Dad says they caught him today. When I told him what I overheard, Joachim had a number of his men set an ambush. And when he and his men tried to rob the carts . . .” He brought his fist down on his open hand for dramatic effect, “We got them. Ravel’s on his way to the Pit and Bode’s in for a big surprise when he hears about his dad today.”

Niam’s eyes brightened. “That was amazing the way you handled Bode,” he told Davin. But suddenly, his voice became more tempered as he thought over his own story and the one he had just heard from Maer. “Davin, what happened to you? How did the thing affect you?”

“A lot like you and Maer,” he said without hesitation.

“But,” Niam began, troubled, “Now that I really sit and think about it, you seemed more . . . I don’t know. There was something different about you.”

“It was like you took control,” Maerillus added.

Davin looked down, slightly abashed. “Something just comes over me when this happens. It was the same thing in Kalavere.” Davin told them about his experience. As he did, Maerillus nodded his head in agreement when he rehashed the part of his tale where he had become so paralyzed by fear that he couldn’t move. “I’m still ashamed of that,” he told them as a crimson tinge crept across his face.

“I was scared to death, too” Maerillus said. “If it hadn’t been for that voice telling me what to do,” he told them both, “I know without a shadow of a doubt Ravel would have seen me.”

Niam cleared his throat, and they both turned and looked at him. “I think my experience was the only one that wasn’t terrifying.”

“I wonder why that is?” Maerillus asked.

Davin cocked his head and thought. “One thing is sure. I think we were led by the voice.”

“What is it?” Niam asked. “In the scriptures, whenever the Creator speaks to people, he identifies himself.”

Davin shook his head and thought for a minute. “Something beyond normal experience is definitely behind this. I’m just not sure any of us are important enough to be chosen by the lord of all creation.”

“And just as importantly,” Maerillus added to Niam’s thought, “why?”

“Good questions,” Davin said. “One I don’t think any one of us has an answer for. Niam says he argued with it today, but it sounds like he didn’t get any answers.”

Niam shook his head, “No. Just a growling dog.”

“All I know is that as I dealt with Borl and Grav, I had the distinct feeling that I was becoming—” he shrugged his shoulders at a loss for words, “I don’t know what.”

“When I was climbing back up the side of the overlook, I knew that the Voice wasn’t done with me,” Niam nearly whispered. “I felt an intent behind it. And it’s not just a voice, but a Voice, with a capital V.”

“I know,” Davin said.

“Me too,” Maerillus said. “It’s not done with us is it?”

“No,” Davin sighed, “I don’t think so.”

“On that note, guys, I think I should tell you that I heard the Voice again,” Niam said softly, “Today.”

Both boys looked at him, waiting.

“The Voice came to me just before I heard Bode talking to his little group of criminals about pilfering through the remains of the Vandin winter camp. It was what directed me to them in the first place.”

“Great Lord, we’ll never be done with Bode, will we?” Maerillus sighed.

“I think it’s bigger than Bode,” Niam said.


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