Up From Hell Read Free

unless you want to find your head decorating somebody else’s trophy.
    Right then Galo blew the alarm call. His dog-headed horn was tuned higher than most and had a whistle in the throat instead of a clapper.
    â€œThat’s for me!” I said, turning and running toward the sound, just like I’d do in the field. I might have some explaining to do with the Crow when things settled down, but that was for later.
    Now my troop needed me, and nothing—no one—would get in the way of that call.
    *   *   *
    I didn’t draw my sword as I ran through the camp. When I got to Galo—he’d just climbed down from the cart, pretty much where I’d left him—I was glad of that: he was facing Dubnoreix.
    Dubnoreix’s brother Liscus was there too, leading his housemen. They all had their helmets and shields.
    I wasn’t afraid of them, but eleven to one was longer odds than I could win at even if I’d had my shield. Running up waving my sword would’ve given Dubnoreix an excuse to finish me the way he’s been wanting to do ever since we were boys and I’d broken his arm with a branch I took away from him after he’d swung it at me.
    Dubnoreix had backed the Etruscan woman, Alpnu, against the wagon. He turned to face me when I arrived, which let her sidle a little farther way. She wasn’t cowering, but she didn’t want to be any closer to Dubnoreix than she had to—for which I didn’t blame her.
    â€œGreetings, cousin!” I called. “I expected to see you when I reported to the chief!”
    â€œGreetings, Taranis,” Dubnoreix said. He looked flushed and was clenching and unclenching his right hand. “I was looking at your prisoner here, and she bit me. I think I’ll take her to my tent to teach her a little discipline.”
    When we’d gotten to camp my troopers had headed off to get outside a few skins of wine, but they came rushing back at the horn call. They wouldn’t get involved in a fight between nobles, though, and I didn’t expect them to. I wasn’t nearly so sure of what Dubnoreix’s housemen would do, though, and Liscus was noble himself.
    â€œSorry, coz,” I said, walking toward him. I wanted to gasp after my run back at the horn call, but I kept control of my breathing to seem nonchalant. “The chief and I were just discussing her. When we decide what to do, we’ll let you know.”
    That was close enough to the truth that the Crow wouldn’t take my head off when he learned what I’d said, and it put Dubnoreix on notice to mind how he went no matter how mad he was. It looked like he’d stroked Alpnu’s cheek and she’d snapped at his finger. I’d have laughed if things weren’t already so tense.
    Dubnoreix’s hand quivered toward his sword hilt, and his face got redder yet. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m a thousand-chief, Taranis,” he said, his voice mushy with anger.
    â€œI think you’re forgetting that I’m not in your thousand, Dubnoreix,” I said. I kept my voice calm, for a wonder, but there was the least tremble in it that warned anybody listening that I was getting close to the edge myself.
    There was a bustle behind me. That was what I’d been waiting for.
    â€œMy blood’s just as good as yours, cousin!” I said. “And that’s if Kervan really was your father and not his horse-holder.”
    â€œBastard!” Dubnoreix shouted, which would’ve been funny if I’d had time to think about it: there weren’t any rumors about my mother. He swung his shield in front of his body and reached for the sword hanging at his right side. Instead of drawing my own sword, I stepped forward and stabbed at his sword hilt with the javelin in my left hand.
    My point clacked against the ivory. Dubnoreix shouted and jerked his bloody hand up. I stepped back, my empty right hand