Beyond the Gate

Chapter 6

Night came with darkening clouds at Mack’s Landing, and Orick sat with Grits and the sheriffs on the strand under the shade of the oaks, warming by the campfire.

He’d finished his third bowl of wine and sixth bowl of stew, and he felt more than a bit dizzy. When he’d first come into camp, Orick had been tense as a reed. But the warm wine had performed miracles. He felt drowsy, ready to sleep.

It was late, and the sheriffs had gone to telling unlikely stories. One boy told of the village of Droichead Bo far in the north, where a young witch named Cara Bullinger learned the banshee’s song and sang it upon a hill, slaying every person, horse, cat, and cockroach within the sound of her voice. He said that after they took care of Gallen O’Day, they should go after this Bullinger woman. Another man agreed, saying that he too had heard of strange deaths up there-livestock and whatnot-and most likely it was this woman causing trouble.

While some younger sheriffs looked about the campfire with frightened, pasty faces, Orick just guffawed and said, “Why, where’d you ever hear such a concoction?”

“I have a cousin who swears it’s true,” the boy sheriff said. “He heard her singing the banshee’s song.”

“He can’t have heard any such thing! If he had, he’d be dead, too!” Orick grumbled, not wanting to listen to such foolishness. He’d given them a real tale about how Gallen had gotten involved with otherworldly beings. Not some lie.

Across the fire, the scar-faced sheriff, who’d given his name as Sully, poured another bottle of wine into a bowl for Orick, and handed it to him. “Ah, don’t get angry at the lad, Orick. He’s just trying to keep the men entertained. No harm in that.”

“But it’s a flawed tale-” Orick began to say, and Sheriff Sully looked up at him with glistening, malevolent eyes, and suddenly Orick remembered that he’d been going under the name Boaz, and he hadn’t wanted these lawmen to know his real name, for they planned to kill Gallen O’Day.

Sheriff Sully grabbed for his sword, growling, “I’ll have a few words with you. I’d like to discover your part in this whole affair!”

Orick spun away from the campfire, but a young man had come up behind him, sword drawn. Orick was trapped between the two. Grits grumbled into his ear, “You told him your real name! Is there anything else you want to tell them?”

More sheriffs leapt up and pulled their swords, surrounding them.

Orick couldn’t think straight, his head was spinning so badly. He worried about blades slicing his pelt, but remembered Lady Everynne’s gift. The nanodocs flowing through his veins were marvelous at healing wounds.

Orick spun and lunged, pushing past one young sheriff. The sheriff’s sword whipped through the air, slicing deeply into Orick’s shoulder.

Orick roared at the pain, but continued running on three legs past a tree where the horses were tethered to a line. He roared again, spooking the horses so that their lines snapped as they reared and kicked. A couple of hounds rushed out from under a tree, yelping and snapping. Orick slashed one with his paw, knocking it into the ground, and the other yelped and leapt back, then Orick was running beside the lake under heavy cloud cover.

Orick could run faster than any human over short distances, so he sped out over the mud, turned toward the mountains and the highway beyond, and kept running until he was out of bowshot. Then he turned and stood. He was bleeding profusely, and he looked back toward the sheriffs. Their camp was in an uproar. Men were rushing for their horses, breaking camp. Grits stood beside the campfire on all fours, her back arched, growling as sheriffs ringed her about with swords.

Orick whined, then sniffed the air ahead toward a row of dark hills. He was nine miles from An Cochan, twelve miles from Clere. Normally it would be a casual day-long ride for the sheriffs, but they could make it in hours under a forced march.

He licked at his wound, and pain lanced through him. He got on all fours, then hobbled along as fast as he could. He’d have to reach Gallen soon.

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