Barnaby the Wanderer

Chapter 17: Not the Moves She Meant

The Society of St. Benefact, holy patron of self-benefaction, gathered in a large wooden barn. Resting in a circle upon a floor of dirt and old straw. A lantern set in place of campfire. Evening sun streamed through the doorway, sending yellow rays through chinks in wall and roof, revealing dust motes floating bright and significant as the stars of the Upper House.

Upon a barrel perched Night-Creep, angel-wing eyes following a mouse as it scuttled through shadows. Dark Michael sat before the lamp, holding hands to it just as he would to a fire.

Val took a breath of mold and old manure, opening discussion and debate.

"Questions?"

"Sure," said Bodkin. "First, where in Infernum's five thousand and forty-three fornicatoriums are we?"

"Looks like a barn," said Barnaby. "Smells like a barn." He sniffed. "Horse barn."

"Yes, we are indeed in a barn," affirmed Val. "And the barn is in what we, I mean they, call a holding. Half farm, half fort. Not many servants. It's just an outpost to keep watch on the border with Hephestia. This particular holding is called Edgestead, if you care."

"I don't," said Jewel. "What I care about is what the Lucif's buttock am I doing here?"

"Blame Barnaby," said Val. "For reasons clear only unto the milling wheels within his head, he challenged Hypo to see who could shove whom off a watchtower. As it happens, Edgestead has a wonderfully high watchtower. You get a breathtaking view of Hephestia, not to mention the dead and dying in the Debated Circle."

"Saw the tower. Right on the cliff. If he falls, he dies."

"Yes. That's the idea. Tomorrow."

"Well, why in the name of all the saints of the Lower House did he do it?"

The Benefactors stared at Barnaby, who shook his head, and all the millwheels within.

"It just, well, happened. I was talking with Miss Maris and she told me about challenges. It's goes Paw, Cow, ah, something then Eagle. Then when I saw Val was going to attack the soldiers-

"How did you see?" interrupted Val.

"You wore your scary smile."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I went to stop you and Hypo jumped in and 'Eagle' just jumped out."

"Maris?" asked Cedric.

Barnaby nodded. "One of the soldiers. Walked with me for miles. Told me things about St. Martia. She was fierce, but nice. I liked her."

"All I saw was you talking to yourself," said Bodkin.

"Which the dear boy does, rather oft," added Matilda.

"She was the lady soldier with the gold hammer," said Barnaby, puzzled. "You didn't see that?"

"Maris, with a gold hammer," said Val. Exchanging looks with Cedric. "Well, of course. Shit, millers tangle these things fast."

"Leave it tangled," said Bodkin. "Vital question is are we free to walk?"

"You can go where you want in the holding. If you try and go out the gate, they'll stop you. Politely, maybe."

"So, we're prisoners? But they haven't separated us. Haven't tied us up nor locked us in. Haven't even taken our weapons."

Val sighed. "It will sound mad to outsiders. But we-I-mean-they, of St. Martia let servants, thralls, even prisoners carry whatever weapons they want."