“Of course, Knight Captain! The villagers of Brij would be happy to host you,” Apramor replied.
“We are most appreciative,” Captain Vastav said with a small bow of his head. Vir wasn’t expecting to see such politeness from someone like him. “My knights will introduce themselves to each of you in turn. Until then, please disperse. All of you!”
“Let’s go,” Vir said, dragging Maiya away from the knights before anyone could see him. It’d be bad if the knights got a glimpse of him. His free hand clutched his hood, desperately trying to hide as much of his face as possible.
Fate wasn’t so kind.
The two walked along the dirt road for less than a minute before a multitude of barks, yips, and howls pierced the air. Four bandies rounded a corner, whipped by their owners into a frenzy.
With all the villagers cloistered at the central square, there was no one to stop the bullies.
“Guess I shouldn’t have pissed them off,” Maiya said, shirking back.
“That’s right, Maiya! Be scared,” Akros’ son, Camas, taunted. “You really thought we were just gonna let… let that… what are you doing!”
Vir bolted the instant he saw the bandies, making them chase after him instead of Maiya. He jumped upon a crate, leaped through the air, and grabbed a pole. He’d learned from his mistake in the alley that morning. This time, he forced enough power into his legs, leveraging his momentum to throw himself onto the flat roof of a single-story house.
Yes! Not only had he found safety, he’d figured out a way to overcome his earlier failure, and that felt good.
The bandies all rushed to the base of the wall he stood atop of, snarling at him. Thanks to Vir’s advantageous position, the beasts were all bark and no bite. Vir calmly lobbed one pebble after another at their vulnerable muzzles, though hitting moving targets was a more difficult proposition than hitting stones as he’d always done. He timed his shots, predicting where the bandies might end up, missing more often than he connected. Luckily, he had plenty of pebbles. He kept attacking, honing his aim with every throw, growing slightly better as the encounter dragged on.
Vir was sure of it now. Something was different from before. He missed a lot, but his aim had somehow improved. As if he intuitively understood where he ought to throw his pebbles for maximum damage. No, that wasn’t quite correct. He aimed as normal. Then those voices in his head whispered, nudging him to alter his target ever so slightly. The words were nonsense, but they seemed to carry information within them.
The bandies finally routed, tails between their legs.
Camas hurled insults the entire time, blaming him for the famine, calling him Harvest Scorned, Red Eyes, and all sorts of other things, but little did he know that he’d just contributed to Vir growing his throwing skills. He almost couldn’t keep the smile off his face. That was some good practice.
“Come up with something original next time,” Vir taunted. “I’ve grown bored of your old ones. Haven’t you?”
Losing no time, he jumped down and rejoined Maiya. Though Camas didn’t pursue, they ran the rest of the way regardless. Bandies scared easily but would eventually return.
Several times, Vir felt like he was about to black out from the exertion. He pushed through, arriving heaving and panting at his home on the outskirts.
“Secret entrance,” Maiya whispered. “In case they’re watching.”
She wriggled through their secret entrance, and Vir followed right behind her. The moment he emerged through the hole into their room, he fell onto all fours, panting.
“Maiya,” he said between breaths, “I think they’re here for me.”
“Huh? You may be a bit special, but I don’t think the king would send out his knights just to find a boy in some backwater village.”
“You heard him talk about how there’s a new religious advisor, didn’t you? And you know what the religious texts say about Ashborn. And there’s never been an inspection like this before! Your dad even said so.”
“That’s true, but—”
“I don’t know why everyone’s so scared of Ashborn, but I am different. They make that abundantly clear,” Vir said, touching the eight-spoked geometric tattoo on his chest. “I… it’s not like I don’t understand, but I still think you’re overreacting. Let’s just lie low for now. Why don’t you stay inside until all this blows over? I can bring you whatever you need, alrig—?”
A series of loud, hard knocks startled them.
“Open up in there! This is a knightly inspection. Nothing to fear. Open the door!”
“Hide! I’ll answer the door,” Maiya whispered.
“No!” he whispered back. “Won’t it be suspicious if they find the daughter of the head priest alone in my house?”
“Oh… right. T-Then what should we do?”
“Just pretend we’re not here!”
“Oi! Anybody home? I said open up. I must warn you that the penalty for impeding a knightly investigation is dire!”
The rapping stopped. Then came the sound of footsteps.
“Who are you? Name yourself!” the knight commanded.
“Just a nobody, ser knight.”
Vir cracked the curtain to find old man Akros outside.
“Just wanted to say that this be Rudvik’s place. He’s off in the woods with his son today, ser.”
Why him? Vir thought frantically. Why did it have to be Akros?
“Is that so?” the knight said in a quieter, more respectful tone. “Thank you, citizen. By the way, you wouldn’t have heard about an Ashborn living in this village, would you?”
Vir went pale.
“I, er. I wouldn’t know anything about that, ser.”
“Are you sure?”
“Q-quite. If I can help your highness in any way, please do let me know.”
Vir’s ears had to have failed him. Did Akros just stick up for me! Why would he do that?
The soldier grumbled. “Not your highness. Just a ser. And no. We need nothing further from you. Run along now.”
Vir exchanged a tense glance with Maiya. Then there were more footsteps outside.
“Well, what do you think?” one soldier asked. Their voices hushed, making it hard to hear.
Vir desperately tried to still his raging heart. He could’ve sworn it was so loud that the knights could hear every beat.
“Yet another Brijer denying the Ashborn’s presence,” one knight said.
“Well, our spy already confirmed the Ashborn’s presence here, didn’t he? What use is it asking the locals? Red-eyed, pale skinned. Lumberjack’s son. Couldn’t possibly be anyone else.”
“Well, true, but tisn’t bad to lend an ear to the locals now and then. They tend to know the ins and outs.”
“Maybe. But isn’t all this very unusual? Who would protect an Ashborn?”
Vir concurred. This was out of character for Akros. Or maybe the irate man wasn’t as bad as Vir thought? He found that somewhat hard to believe…
The other knight chuckled. “Well, you and I wouldn’t understand it, but these villagers have a level of cohesion that is sometimes difficult to understand. I’ve heard they’ll even harbor criminals if they’re one of their own.”
The sound of someone spitting. “Backwater bumpkins… Can’t fathom how we got assigned to this miserable post. Oy! You two, come replace us. Guard the back door too, just in case.”
Sounds of boots shuffling. Two more guards had taken their place at Vir’s home, and now they had guards at both doors.
The soldiers walked away, their voices dying out. But the pair that guarded his home remained. One in front, another at the back. These knights weren’t taking any chances.