Raithe followed the others out even though he was as uncomfortable in crowds as he had been in the forest. Too many people were like too many trees. In Dureya, villages consisted of only a few families. But here, nearly two hundred people now gathered in front of the steps and more were spilling out of roundhouses.
All of them had the same rosy-cheeked, well-fed faces. Faces without pockmarks or the deep lines cut by blistering winds. Also missing were the scars, broken teeth, and severed fingers that a life of warfare bestowed. And not one carried a weapon. Instead, they held hollow gourds, chisels, and mallets. One fellow carried a basket of eggs.
Raithe expected Persephone to confront those just outside Sarah’s house, but instead she pushed through them and marched down the broad pathway past the well and on up the steps of the lodge. At the top, she stopped, pivoted, and faced the people of the dahl.
She waited for a moment while the crowd gathered. Then in a loud voice she said, “Yesterday, Sackett, Adler, and Hegner tried to kill me in the forest.” She paused, probably for the full weight of the statement to settle in. “They chased me up a cascade, and Sackett and Adler both died when they slipped and fell on rocks. I don’t know why they attacked me. They didn’t—”
“That’s not how Hegner tells it.” A stocky man stepped through the lodge’s doorway behind Persephone. He wore the silver torc of leadership.
Raithe’s first thought was that the man’s beard was short for a leader, and he disliked the chieftain’s eyes. They didn’t seem even, the left one being slightly higher than the right. The only visible scar was a recent one, still pink and healing—hardly the mark of an experienced warrior. Walon, Dureya’s chieftain, had a beard down to his chest, few teeth, and a face like beaten copper. That was the mark of experience, the sign of a survivor. The Rhen chieftain did have one thing no one in Dureya had. He carried an ax.
At the sight of it, Raithe pushed to the foot of the steps. This wasn’t his clan, and this man wasn’t his chieftain. Raithe didn’t have a stake, other than a promised meal, in whatever dispute was about to start, but he had come to like Persephone. Undecided only a day before, he knew if there was a fight he’d back her.
Persephone turned to face her chieftain. “Then Hegner’s a liar, Konniger.”
“Is he? If Sackett, Adler, and Hegner sought to kill you, why aren’t you dead?” Konniger folded his arms and glared. “Do you expect anyone to believe two experienced hunters slipped and fell? Are you saying you had nothing to do with their deaths?”
Persephone opened her mouth to speak.
“Hegner!” Konniger called to the darkened interior of the lodge. “You were there—you’re the one she’s accusing—tell everyone what you witnessed.”
The one-handed man appeared from the shadows and stepped onto the porch. “We were out hunting and found her on the cascades with those two fellas there.” He pointed with his good hand at Raithe and Malcolm.
Eyes shifted toward them, and those closest inched away, which was fine by Raithe.
“We thought Persephone needed help. Him being Dureyan and all. Could have been in trouble. She must not have seen us yet because she kissed the big one.”
A woman sporting a circlet of flowers over braided hair also emerged from the lodge. She stood to the side and slightly behind Konniger. Hearing Hegner’s words, she began shaking her head while looking at Persephone. “Reglan isn’t dead a month and you’re already carrying on with another man. Or were you seeing this lover before our chieftain died? Were you stealing away into the forest while your husband was out avenging your son?”
“You lousy, lying cul!” Moya burst out, and pushed forward. She might have reached the steps if Sarah and a few others hadn’t caught her.
“Watch your mouth,” Konniger snapped.
“Outbursts like that are why we ordered your marriage,” said the woman with the circlet, whom Raithe concluded was the Second Chair, Konniger’s wife. “You’re a wild animal, Moya. Hegner will beat some respect into you.”
Moya thrashed but was held back.
“Go on, Hegner,” Konniger said.
“Yeah, well, like I was saying, they were kissing, but we still wanted to check things out. She certainly looked willing, had her arms around him and stuff, but you never know. He might have been forcing himself on her. We climbed the cascade, and when Persephone saw us, she told them we couldn’t be allowed back to the dahl. She said it would ruin everything if people found out. That’s when these two attacked. The big one has a sword, two in fact. And we didn’t stand a chance. He killed Sackett and Adler. Woulda killed me, too, if I hadn’t run.”
“Why are you saying these things?” Persephone asked Hegner. She didn’t seem angry. If anything she sounded hurt, but most of all her tone and the shake of her head expressed bewilderment. “You know none of that is true.”
The crowd had expanded out beyond the well and the stone god. Most of Clan Rhen filled the broad pathway leading from the lodge steps to the front gate, where they stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the crushed gravel. A few kids were out near the closest roundhouses, standing up on roughly cut benches near fire pits to try to see over the heads of their parents. The crowd murmured as people talked among themselves.
Konniger raised his hands to quiet them. “It’s your turn, Persephone. What motive do you put forth, for I can see no reason why three of our most distinguished men would attack you without provocation.”
Persephone shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out since it happened. But these three were with me, and they can testify as witnesses on my behalf.”
It was Konniger’s turn to shake his head. “It’s reasonable to assume they’ll take your side. We would need someone impartial. Was there anyone else?”
Persephone clenched her fists. “No. But can’t the same be said of Hegner? Who are his impartial witnesses?”
The chieftain stroked his beard. “You make a good point. But two men are dead; that fact isn’t in dispute. I find it difficult to accept that two experienced hunters would merely fall to their deaths.” He focused on Raithe. “And Dureyans are well known for their murderous ways.”
Raithe shoved the two people in front of him aside and climbed the steps to stand before Hegner. “He called me a murderer.” The words rolled out in a growl. “In Dureya, an accuser will defend their claims in battle. I imagine this custom holds true in all dahls.” He glanced at Konniger. “I demand that he take it back, and his lies against this woman, or we’ll let the gods decide the truth. We can settle this matter right now.” He let his hand rest on the handle of the sword.
“You challenge a one-handed man?” the wife said. “How like a Dureyan.”
“What does that matter?” He pointed at Hegner. “If he tells the truth, the gods will award him victory even if he had no hands and just his vile mouth. Or don’t you believe in the gods?” With a disdainful shake of his head, he added, “So like a southerner.”
“You are violent, disrespectful, and no doubt a liar,” the wife declared, shaking her head. “Don’t you see how you’re proving Hegner’s point? You don’t think we can see what is really going on?” She lifted her voice to the crowd. “What more proof is needed? The killer who helped Persephone is a Dureyan!”
“The gods will tell the truth of it,” Raithe barked, and moved toward Hegner.
Konniger stepped between Raithe and the one-handed man. The angry murmur of the crowd rose.
Raithe had hoped to get a meal, a decent night’s sleep, and maybe some food for the road. Instead, he found himself accused of murder and facing off with a dahl chieftain on the steps of their lodge in front of a herd of pampered villagers. Perhaps Shegon wasn’t a god, but he sure must have been favored by them. Since he had killed the Fhrey, Raithe’s life had been cursed. His only consolation was that it couldn’t get any worse.
Then the horn sounded. It blew once, twice, then three times.
Everyone’s attention turned toward the far end of the broad pathway, as men scrambled to seal the gate with a thick wooden beam.
From the wall came the shout, “The gods are here!”
Age of Myth (The Legends of the First Empire #1)
Michael J. Sullivan's books
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- The Death of Dulgath (Riyria #3)
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- Rise of Empire (The Riyria Revelations #3-4)
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- Theft of Swords (The Riyria Revelations #1-2)