IGMS Issue 8 Read Free Page B

and walked to stand in front of the house by the lane that led through the village and meet their fate.
    The mounted soldiers rounded the bend at the far end of the lane. It was still cold and the horses' breath looked like smoke. They reined in about the two women, the horses sidling, stomping, snorting in a ragged group.
    A cluster of children that should have been digging sugar beets clustered in front of one of the stone huts to watch. The village women looked up from their apple pots. Cranky Petar came as far as the middle of the lane carrying his pitchfork.
    The noble with the dead fish-eyes pushed his expensive horse through the soldier's mounts. He said nothing. He simply looked at Anja.
    A silver cross hung on a chain about his neck. But it was no ordinary cross, for at its based coiled a serpent.
    Braslava and Anja had discussed the noble at length. That cross confirmed their conclusion -- he
was
a
volhov
. And only the Lord knew the darkness he weaved.
    Anja held up her hands to say she had nothing to do with the golem being here. "It is on the roof."
    The soldiers all looked to Anja's slate roof. The golem squatted at one edge, its knees drawn to its chest, so that it seemed to perch there. Two sparrows perched on the peak next to it.
    "Call it down," said the
volhov
.
    "Of course," said Anja. "But I must tell you that it comes and goes of its own accord. I don't know that it can be tamed."
    "I did not ask for the opinion of a woman."
    Anja nodded.
    She was going to get herself killed if she did not shut up. She walked over to the edge of the roof. "Golem," Anja said. "You must come down."
    The golem turned its head to look away. Then it changed its perch so that it faced away from them.
    "Shoot it," said the captain. Two soldiers unwrapped their bows. They retrieved their bow strings from the helmets atop their heads. The golem paid them no mind. Soon both had an arrow nocked and drawn.
    "Fire," said the captain.
    The arrows sped forth. The sparrows took flight. The golem scratched its ear.
    The arrows struck it high in the back. But only the very tips penetrated its skin. The arrows came to rest at odd angles. Then the golem shivered, and the arrows clattered to the roof.
    "Get up there with a rope," the captain said. "If it won't come willingly, we'll pull it down."
    He commanded Braslava and Anja to bring ladders. He ordered four men up. Before they ascended, Braslava saw two of the assigned soldiers glance at each other, and she could not tell if they were divvying up work with their glances or looking to each other for courage.
    The soldiers clambered up the roof. Three carried spears. The one with the noose straddled the peak. The other end of the rope was tied to the back of the wagon's bed. The soldier cast the noose easily about the golem's neck and yanked it tight. The driver yelled and flicked his reins. The horses surged forward. But the golem simply reached up and, with his thumb and forefinger, snapped the rope.
    The soldiers, the villagers, the
volhov
, they all watched the wagon clatter a number of yards up the lane dragging the rope.
    They turned back to the golem.
    The soldiers on the roof stood in confusion. One screwed up his face, growled, and charged as best he could on the slate. The butt of his spear struck the golem where a man's ribs would be. But the golem did not even sway. It was as if it were affixed to the roof.
    The soldier slipped on the slate, then regained his balance. He set himself and shoved the butt of the spear into the golem's head. By this time the other two soldiers had joined the first, poking and ramming the thing. But a slate roof after a freezing rain is not such a good place to fight. The first soldier lost his footing. His spear flew wide and he tumbled down to fall into Anja's now dead marigolds.
    The golem batted the spears out of the other two soldier's hands. Their spears clattered and rolled down the roof to the ground. The larger soldier with a blond beard