Servant: The Dark God Book 1 Read Free Page A

grass.
    Afterwards, some of the villagers cheered for her. A few of the fathers of the boys who had started it all came and made peace. Da was satisfied. Mother was not. She would not speak to him for two weeks. But even with her heavy fury on him, Da did not give up on Sugar’s lessons. “There are those who act,” he said. “And those who are acted upon. I’m not ever going to leave you in a position again where you have no choice.”
    Two years later when her moon-cycles came, Mother convinced Da he was ruining her chances of a good marriage, for what boy wanted to bed a bruiser? So he stopped teaching her how to use her feet and hands as weapons and began to teach her knives.
    That was a number of years ago. She’d never had to use the knife Da forged for her protection and made her wear. Not to draw a man’s blood. Although she had let a few of the boys she’d been introduced to at Koramtown know she wore it. But mostly she’d used the knife around the yard in her chores. Now, even though she knew it would be useless against a host of men, she was glad she had it.
    Mother turned to her. “Get Fancy saddled.”
    Sugar moved to obey, but Da held his hand up. “No. Running will only raise their suspicions or prod them to act. This might be nothing. Leave it to me. I know how to handle these men.”
    “And then it will be too late,” said Mother.
    “Woman,” said Da in warning. Then he walked out the front door.
    When he was only a few paces into the yard, Mother turned to Sugar. “You get Fancy.”
    “Do you want saddle bags?” asked Sugar.
    “All I want is a horse. The Fir-Noy are not what they once were. Too many have become oath breakers, turning their backs on the promises made in Whitecliff.”
    Sugar dashed out the back door.
    The troops in Farmer Galson’s fields had fanned out and were now walking as a line toward the house.
    Legs, her younger, blind brother, stood in front of the chicken house, his head cocked at an odd angle and looking off into space as he did when he paid fierce attention to every sound and smell. His wild hair stood up. In his arm he held a basket of onions and eggs.
    “Legs!” she said. “Get in here.”
    “I can hear men,” he said.
    “Move!” she said.
    Holding the eggs to the bottom of the basket, Legs jogged for the back door. He needed no stick to navigate the house and yard. If he knew a place, he could walk about as if he were sighted. It was only when he was in a new place that he might stumble, or when things were lying out of place. And so they all had learned to be very tidy.
    Sugar ran to the barn and flung open the door. The mare nickered. Sugar grabbed the harness, slipped it over Fancy’s head and fitted the bridle in her mouth. Then she led the horse out and tied her to the post by the back door.
    The Fir-Noy stood with their hideous shields only a few paces beyond the chicken house. They’d formed up into a loose circle that ringed both the house and smithy. “Mark the horse,” one of the soldiers said.
    For a moment Sugar thought they were going to shoot Fancy, but the men just stood there. Sugar rushed into the house and shut the door behind her. She ran to her mother who stood in the doorway to the front yard.
    “Fancy’s not going to be enough,” she said.
    Mother’s gaze was fixed on Da out in the yard, but she reached out and smoothed Sugar’s hair. “You did just fine. Now, if anything happens, you and Legs need to be ready to ride. You’ll have the most cover in the woods. So it’s straight through Galson’s fields, low on Fancy’s neck. And if someone stands in your way, you ride them down.”
    Fear seized Sugar’s heart. Had it really come to this? “What about you and Da?”
    “You ride them down,” said Mother. “You flee to Horse.”
    Mother had always told her that if anything ever happened, she was to flee into the Shoka lands and find the farmer many called Horse. But how would she ride through that ring of men?