Second o two sides is what I call shit.
Dogman took a deep breath and let it pass. Bethods dug in good, watching the roads to Carleon. No one can see an easy way to come at him, or an easy way around him neither. He was good and ready for this, I reckon.
I couldve bloody told you that! barked Dow, spraying out greasy crumbs. Hell have Littlebone on one o them hills, and Whitesides on the other, then hell have Pale-as-Snow and Goring further out. Those four wont be giving anyone any chances, but if they decide to, Bethodll be sat behind with the rest, and his Shanka, and his fucking Feared, ready to snuff em out double-time.
Moren likely. Tul held his sword up to the light, peered at it, then set to polishing up the blade again. Always liked to have a plan, did Bethod.
And what do them that hold our leash have to say? sneered Dow. What sort of works the Furious got for his animals?
Burr wants us to move north a way, through the woods, see if Bethods left a weak spot up there.
Huh, snorted Dow. Bethod aint in the habit of leaving holes. Not unless hes left one he means for us to fall into. Fall into and break our necks.
Well I guess wed better be careful where we tread then, eh?
More bloody errands.
Dogman reckoned he was getting about as sick of Dows moaning as Threetrees used to be. And just what else would it be, eh? Thats what life is. A bunch of errands. If youre worth a shit you do your best at em. Whats got up your arse anyway?
This! Dow jerked his head into the trees. Just this! Nothings changed that much, has it? We might be over the Whiteflow, and back in the North, but Bethods dug in good and proper up there, with no way for the Union to get round him that wont leave their arses hanging out. And if they do knock him off them hills, what then? If they get to Carleon and they get in, and they burn it just as good as Ninefingers did the last time, so what? Dont mean nothing. Bethodll keep going, just like he always does, fighting and falling back, and therell always be more hills to sit on, and more tricks to play. Timell come, the Union will have had their fill and theyll piss off south and leave us to it. Then Bethods going to turn around, and what dyou know? Hell be the one chasing us all the way across the fucking North and back. Winter, summer, winter, summer, and its more of the same old shit. Here we are, fewer of us than there used to be, but still pissing around in the woods. Feel familiar?
It did, somewhat, now it was mentioned, but Dogman didnt see what he could do about it. Logens back, now, eh? Thatll help.
Dow snorted again. Hah! Just when did the Bloody-Nine bring anything but death along with him?
Steady now, grunted Tul. You owe him, remember? We all do.
Theres a limit on what a man should owe, I reckon. Dow tossed his pan down by the fire and stood up, wiping his hands on his coat. Wheres he been, eh? He left us up in the valleys without a word, didnt he? Left us to the Flatheads and pissed off halfway across the world! Whos to say he wont wander off again, if it suits him, or go over to Bethod, or set to murder over nothing, or the dead know what?
Dogman looked at Tul, and Tul looked back, guilty. Theyd all seen Logen do some damn dark work, when the mood was on him. That was a long time ago, said Tul. Things change.
Dow only grinned. No. They dont. Tell yourselves that tale if it makes you sleep easier, but Ill be keeping one eye open, I can tell you that! Its the Bloody-Nine were talking of. Who knows what hell do next?
Ive one idea. The Dogman turned round and saw Logen, leaning up against a tree, and he was starting to smile when he saw the look in his eye. A look Dogman remembered from way back, and dragged all kind of ugly memories up after it. That look the dead have, when the lifes gone out of em, and they care for nothing any more.
You got a thing to say then you can say it to my face, I reckon. Logen walked up, right up close to Dow, with his head falling on one side, scars all pale on his hanging-down face. The Dogman felt the hairs on his arms standing up, cold feeling even though the sun was warm.
Come on, Logen, wheedled Tul, trying to sound like the whole business was all a laugh when it was plain as a slow death it was no such thing. Dow didnt mean nothing by it. Hes just
Logen spoke right over him, staring Dow in the face with his corpses eyes all the long while. I thought when I gave you the last lesson that youd never need another. But I guess some folk have short memories. He came in even closer, so close that their faces were almost touching. Well? You need a learning, boy?
Dogman winced, sure as sure theyd set to killing one another, and how the hell hed stop em once they started he hadnt the faintest clue. A tense moment all round, it seemed to last for ever. He wouldnt have taken that from any other man, alive or dead, Black Dow, not even Threetrees, but in the end he just split a yellow grin.
Nah. One lessons all I need. And he turned his head sideways, hawked up and spat onto the ground. Then he backed off, no hurry, that grin still on his face, like he was saying hed take a telling this time, maybe, but he might not the next.
Once he was gone, and no blood spilled, Tul blew out hard like theyd got away with murder. Right then. North, was it? Someone better get the lads ready to move.
Uh, said Grim, sliding the last arrow into his quiver and following him off through the trees.
Logen stood there for a moment, watching em walk. When theyd got away out of sight he turned round, and he squatted down by the fire, hunched over with his arms resting on his knees and his hands dangling. Thank the dead for that. I nearly shit myself.
Dogman realised hed been holding onto his breath the whole while, and he let it rush out in a gasp. I think I mightve, just a bit. Did you have to do that?
You know I did. Let a man like Dow take liberties and he wont ever stop. Then all the rest of these lads will get the idea that the Bloody-Nine aint anything like so frightening as they heard, and itll be a matter of time before someone with a grudge decides to take a blade to me.
Dogman shook his head. Thats a hard way of thinking about things.
Thats the way they are. They havent changed any. They never do.
True, maybe, but they werent ever going to change if no one gave em half a chance. Still. You sure all thats needful?
Not for you maybe. You got that knack that folk like you. Logen scratched at his jaw, looking sadly off into the woods. Reckon I missed my chance at that about fifteen years ago. And I aint getting another.
The woods were warm and familiar. Birds twittered in the branches, not caring a damn for Bethod, or the Union, or any o the doings of men. Nowhere had ever seemed more peaceful, and Dogman didnt like that one bit. He sniffed at the air, sifting it through his nose, over his tongue. He was double careful these days, since that shaft came over and killed Cathil in the battle. Might have been he couldve saved her, if hed trusted his own nose a mite more. He wished he had saved her. But wishing dont help any.
Dow squatted down in the brush, staring off into the still forest. What is it, Dogman? What dyou smell?
Men, I reckon, but kind of sour, somehow. He sniffed again. Smells like
An arrow flitted up out of the trees, clicked into the tree trunk just beside Dogman and stuck there, quivering.
Shit! he squealed, sliding down on his arse and fumbling his own bow off his shoulder, much too late as always. Dow slithered down cursing beside him and they got all tangled up with each other. Dogman nearly got his eye poked out on Dows axe before he managed to push him off. He shoved his palm out at the men behind to say stop, but they were already scattering for cover, crawling for trees and rocks on their bellies, pulling out weapons and staring into the woods.