Before he could say any more, Hadrian went on. “The good news is that I can help you there. I have an extra sword if you are missing one, and since you have been so kind as to let me board my horse at the stable, I think the least I can do is lend her to you for the fight. Now, I have heard that some people have determined where the lair of the beast is, so it really seems a simple matter of—”
“I—I don’t recall saying that lodging the people in the manor at night was out of the question,” the deacon said loudly to interrupt Hadrian. Several heads turned. He lowered his voice and added, “I was merely stating that it was something I had to consider carefully. You see, the mantle of leadership is a heavy one indeed, and I need to weigh the consequences of every act I make, as they can break as well as mend. No, no, you can’t rush into these things.”
“That is very understandable and very wise, I might add,” Hadrian agreed, keeping his voice loud enough for others to hear him. “But the margrave was killed well over two weeks ago, so I am certain you have come to a decision by now?”
The deacon caught the interested looks of several of the villagers. Those who had finished their meals wandered over. One was Dillon McDern, who was taller than the rest and stood watching them.
“I—ah.”
“Everyone!” Hadrian shouted. “Gather round, the deacon wants to talk with us about the defense of the village.”
The crowd of mourners, plates in hand, turned and gathered in a circle around the well. All eyes turned to Deacon Tomas, who suddenly looked like a defenseless rabbit caught in a trap.
“I—um—” the deacon started, then slumped his shoulders and said in a loud voice, “In light of the recent attacks on houses, everyone is invited to spend nights in the protection of the castle.”
The crowd murmured to each other and then Russell Bothwick called out, “Will there be enough room for everyone?”
The deacon looked as if he was about to reconsider when Hadrian stood up. “I’m sure there’s plenty of room in the house for all the women and children and most of the married men. Those single men, thirteen or older, can spend the night in the stables, smokehouse, and other outbuildings. Each of them has stronger walls and roofs than any of the village homes.”
The inhabitants of the village began to cluster now in earnest.
“And our livestock? Do we abandon them to the beast?” another farmer asked. Hadrian did not recognize him. “Without the livestock we’ll have no meat, no wool, or field animals for work.”
“I’ve got Amble and Ramble to think of,” McDern said. “Dahlgren would be in a sorry state if’n I let sumpin’ happen to those oxen.”
Hadrian jumped to the rim of the well, where he stood above them with one arm on the windlass. “There’s plenty of room inside the stockade walls for all the animals where they will be safer than they have been in your homes. Remember there is safety in numbers. If you sit alone in the dark, it is easy for anything to kill you, but the creature will not be so bold as to enter a fenced castle with the entire village watching. We can also build bonfires outside the walls for light.”
This brought gasps. “But light draws the creature!”
“Well, from what I can see, it doesn’t have difficulty finding you in the dark.”
The villagers looked from Hadrian to Deacon Tomas and back again.
“How do you know?” someone asked from the crowd. “How do you know any of this? You’re not from here. How do you know anything?”
“It’s a demon from Uberlin!” someone Hadrian did not recognize shouted.
“You can’t stop it!” a woman on the right yelled. “Grouping together could just make killing us that much easier.”
“It doesn’t want to kill you all at once and it isn’t a demon,” Hadrian assured the villagers.
“How do you know?”
“It kills only one or two, why? If it can tear apart Theron Wood’s house, or rip the roof off Mae Drundel’s home in seconds, it could easily destroy this whole village in one night, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because it isn’t trying to kill you all. It’s killing for food. The beast isn’t a demon; it’s a predator.” The villagers considered this, and while they paused, Hadrian continued, “What I have heard about this creature is that no one has ever seen it and no victim has survived. Well, that doesn’t surprise me at all. How do you expect to survive when you sit alone in the dark just waiting to be eaten? No one has ever seen it because it doesn’t want to be seen. Like any predator, it conceals itself until it springs, and like a predator, it hunts the weakest prey; it looks for the stray, the young, the old, or the sick. All of you have been dividing yourselves up into tidy little meals. You’ve made yourselves too convenient to resist. If we group together, it might prefer to hunt a deer or a wolf that night instead of us.”
“What if you’re wrong? What if no one has seen it because it is a demon and can’t be seen? It could be an invisible spirit that feeds on terror. Isn’t that right, Deacon?”
“Ah—well—” the deacon began.
“It could be, but it isn’t,” Hadrian assured them.
“How do you know?”