Deathsworn Vol. II

11 - Of Big Men and Bigger Plans

The earthy mingling of burned cat and tart wine was still heavy on Bard's tongue when the village roused. He scarcely had time to clamber to his feet before the Ooamanee began emerging from the jungle, a collective ardour to their movements not altogether dissimilar to a swarm of incensed bees.

"Fetch Tall Toyne," Bard told Pot and Pan, "and make sure he's ready ... and sober." For once the brothers left without question or complaint.

"You think it's going to work?" Bard heard Bodkin breathe beside him.

"The world's about to turn upside down. Elders be damned if I'm staying on the top." Bard reached to his back and gave the shaft of his axe a comforting squeeze. Then he muttered a silent prayer to Willow that he wouldn't have to use it again this day. "Kana." The Islander girl turned her gaze from the tree line, those brown pools born with a sanctity he felt compelled to defend. "If it comes to it, if we have to ... Elders, just promise me you won't get involved."

"You saved my life," was all she said back.

Pot and Pan returned with Toyne mere moments before Bard sighted Umitti himself, the familiar white monkey perched on his shoulder. There could be no mistaking the way his eyes scoured the village upon bursting from the trees, nor how his body went bone rigid the instant he met Bard's stare. Utchaka and Iggo fell in beside him, the former with blood clinging to his long grey-white hair, sporting the wound given unto him by the Congana, the latter tight-eyed, cautious, a long and gnarled staff in his right hand. The three started a purposeful march across the village and the others soon took that as reasonable directive to do the same. Bard observed Pono looming in the midst of the throng.

Umitti's hands were without a weapon, but his eyes devoured Bard with such wolfishness that his menace was lessened only by degrees. The combined mass of Ooamanee warriors at his back instead chose to regard Bard and the other Gallowmen almost curiously, as though they were seeing them true for the first time. Tense seconds passed before Utchaka resolved the silence, his voice shrewd and his good eye working fast where his blind one could not work at all. 

"You have slain Congana. The peace is over. With one hand you save Ooamanee," Pot translated, as Utchaka's long and bony arm reached out towards Kana, "but with the other you doom us all."

Bard replied, "No words of mine can undo what has been done, but I swear by our gods and yours that things will be made right." Pot relayed the words in Ooamanee and Bard studied Umitti, Utchaka, and Iggo in turn. They keep their expressions well-guarded, if nothing else.

It was Iggo who chose, through Pot, to speak next. "Right is a path blocked by a fallen tree. The Congana come, and now we decide what is to be done." 

"I have an idea, but I would hear yours first, for your knowledge far exceeds mine own," Bard explained. Make them feel they're in control. Make them ... malleable.

Umitti responded loudly, eyes never deviating from Bard. When he was done there was a collection of nods and sounds of agreement from the crowd behind him. "He suggested Pono kill you and they give your head to the Congana, as fair payment," Pot said. 

"Kill me?"

"Don't worry," Pot added, "Pono refused him." 

Bard studied the huge Islander. His hands were bigger than Toyne's. "Well, that's something."

"Just so. He said he wants to hear what you have to say before he decides."

"What?"

"Enough of this," Taaj barked, "you're not a knight, Bard, sworn to protect the weak and needy. If they don't want our help, they can hide in the trees and hope the Congana get lost on their way here."