Iced-Over Orchard

~Late fall~

Bricu’s flannel-lined denim and thick wool sweater were a different set of armor for a different sort of job. Instead of a sword or an axe, his weapons of choice were two large wicker baskets. One was suitable for a large number of late season apples, the other hefty enough to carry branches of applewood. Lastly, he’d stashed his service dagger in his boot and hung a hatchet on his belt. He finished dressing long before Threnn got Naiara dressed in her new fall coat.

“Missus,” he said, “Yeh think there are other parents who would find use fer a few weapons designed fer the adventurin’ parent?”

Threnn handed Naiara off to Bricu while she finished preparing her day bag. “What are you talking about?” She grabbed Naiara’s baby sling, a Kaldoeri invention made of thick fabric that allowed one to carry a baby on their back.

“Love, yeh’ve been makin’ weapons fer years now. Can’t yeh figure out a way t’hollow out a hilt fer carryin’ diapers?” Bricu said.

She frowned at him. “A hilt? That’d throw off the balance, taking them in and out all the time. A modified sheath would make more sense.” She hefted the bag, examining it. “Maybe something you could attach to one of these…”

“Yeh can design it on the way ta the orchard. But if we don’t get goin’ soon, all the best trees’ll be picked over.” Naiara squealed as Bricu lifted her above his head and made gyrocopter noises. “Someone — an’ I’m not namin’ names — is gettin’ fresh applesauce t’night.”

Threnn grinned. “Does that mean you’re making pork chops for dinner?”

“All right. Two someones.”

The drive to the Longwell’s orchard was slow by choice. Bricu took a scenic route and resisted the urge to open the bike up on the road. Naiara had developed a terrible habit of waking up the minute he cut the bike’s engine. With the scenic route, at a reasonable speed, she’d get a good chunk of her nap in. For their part, Bricu and Threnn discussed the finer points of multi-function weapon design.

“Och, I got it!” Bricu said.

“Got what?”

“Start makin’ crossbows. The heft o’the blankets and diapers will balance out the modifications t’the stock!”

“Love, I make swords, axes and maces. I don’t make things that shoot bolts or arrows. I could make lighter weight weapons: more rapiers and daggers.” Threnn said.

“But where’s the fun in that, Missus? That’s far too practical. Maybe an axe can deal with the balance right?”

“Balanced but then too heavy to swing? No point in wielding a weapon you can’t lift. No… The best way to work it is in the sheath. ”

“What if yeh had a pommel yeh could unscrew fer a pacifier?” Asked Bricu.

“You would have to keep that impeccibly clean. Think of what could get into the pommel, then think about putting that into a baby’s mouth?” Threnn grimaced. “And if you took the pommel off before the fighting…”

“The balance. Aye. That’s shite.” Bricu said.

“First sheaths. Then we can try figuring out something else.”

“At the very least, we can get Del t’make bags that are strong enough t’carry small weapons.”

“That could work.” Threnn said.

They pulled up to the Longwell’s orchard by the middle of the morning. True to form, Naiara woke up the minute Bricu cut the engine. Threnn handed her to Bricu while she exited the bike, but Naiara cooed and reached for her mother.

“Seems she doesn’t want her da just after a nap.” Bricu said. He started to put on the Kaldorei baby sling.

“She just knows her da has to carry the apples and the wood. Our girl is a clever girl.” She took her daughter into her arms. Naiara immediately started squirming around to look at Bricu. She cooed again.

“Yeh want t’put her in the sling?” Bricu asked.

“No, I can carry her for a while.” Threnn said. “When I get tired, I’ll hand her over.”

There were a handful of people in the orchard –some were working, others were visitors– but the Longwell’s were in a stall at the entrance to the orchard. That was where the youngest of the Longwell children weighed apples. They had even started a lucrative side business selling warm cider and apple bread to the late-season apple pickers.

Bricu and Threnn, with Naiara on Threnn’s hip, strolled through the orchard, heading to the far end where there might still be a few trees left with fruit on their branches. Even this far back, most of the trees had been picked bare. The fruit left at the front of the orchard was small and misshapen.

“What do they do with those apples?” Threnn asked, touching one of them as they passed by.

“They’ll get picked an’ used as bait fer huntin’. Boar an’ deer like apples, an’ I guess their palates don’t mind the sour bitter ones left o’er. Yeh ever had one?”

“No, my culindary dare was Westfall stew. I don’t think I’d eat rock hard apples.” Threnn said.

“We did, back in Lordaeron. There was a season where we got more kids an’ didn’t have enough food…so we stole all the apples we could. Nearly got pinched fer that.”

“How were they?”

“When we were outta sight, an’ we had our first celebratory ones, they were the best damn apples I’ve ever had. But when we got home an’ had more after lights out?” Bricu grimaced. “Ugh, I was sick fer two days.”

She snickered. “So now you want to buy late season apples?”

“There’s a difference. This far south, these kinda apples are fine, since these get more sun an’ warmth than the apples up north. Shi,..” Bricu caught himself and replaced his traditional curse with the Naiara Friendly words. “Earmuffs–They just cost more than other apples. These are fer bakin an’ sauces. I’ll even candy a few.”

“Candied apples?”

“Aye. Candied apples.”

“We should hurry up a bit then. I think someone wants to start picking.” Threnn lifted Naiara towards one of the lower branches. Naiara, giggling and squirming, reached up to grab the nearest apple. She tugged and pulled with all of her strength, but it wouldn’t budge. Threnn reached up and helped her pluck it from the branch. It went straight into her mouth, where Naiara began to gum and chew at the skin.

“She old ‘nough fer that then?” Bricu asked.

“It’s too big for her to get her front teeth into, but she might pry off a chunk.” Threnn started to pull the apple away when Naiara shook her head fiercely and dropped it. She frowned as it thunked onto the ground.

—

Their corner of the orchard had been mostly empty when they’d entered it, but now it was virtually silent. The autumn breeze carried the sounds of the Longwell children to them, but their voices were faint and faraway, even though the main buildings of the Longwell farm was still visible. Threnn switched Naiara to her left hip so her sword arm was free. Her right hand rested lightly on her hilt, but she didn’t draw just yet. Bricu looked around, pretending to casually survey the trees for promising looking fruit, but he was slowly reaching for the hatchet at his belt.

At the edge of the orchard, outside the neat rows of apple trees, was a stand of oaks all twisted and gnarled together. Bricu nodded towards them. “That’s where it’ll come from, then. Yeh ready?”

“Think so.” They closed in until they stood shoulder to shoulder, Naiara between them.

“Oi, love,” Bricu whispered. “Put her on me back then.”

Threnn slid Naiara into the sling. The baby let out a querulous coo, then a string of gibberish that almost sounded like she was chastising someone: “babababaBABA!”

At home, of course, one of the Riders would’ve played along and looked contrite, or one of the cats would have rolled onto his or her back, submitting to belly scratches at that tone. Out here, though, they weren’t among friends. From the stand of oaks came a chorus of cruel, cold laughter, as the gang that had been lying in wait emerged from their cover.

“She sure told us, didn’t she?” The leader addressed his entourage, but his eyes were fixed on the Bittertongues.

They could see at least four, three men and a women. Both Bittertongues were aware that one or two of these brigands could still be hinding somewhere in the orchard. A slight shuffling behind them confirmed these fears.

“Eyes up here.” The leader said. He was a few inches taller than Threnn, but he slumped at the shoulders. He was the only one in the band that had a complete set of armor –all black leather, oiled and well-cared for– complete with Sin’dorei half-mask. The rest of his crew wore mismatched pieces of mail. Whereas his crew carried heavy swords and axes, he had two small blades at his belt. They all wore the same tabard: a red hand on a field of black.

“That apple she ate,” the leader said, “that’ll be fifty crowns.”

Bricu nodded. “That’s a steep price, squire.” He reached for the coin purse on his belt with his left hand. His right hovered over the hatchet. “Yeh want me t’just throw yeh the coin purse then?”

“Do you frequently carry more than fifty crowns on your person?” the woman asked.

“We were planning on buying a lot of apples.” Threnn said.

“Plans change.” The woman smirked and gestured at the crew.

“Aderyn is right, Bittertongues. Plans change.” the leader said.

“Fair enough. Tell us how are our plans different, squire.” Bricu said.

“Stop with the ‘squire.’ Since we’re going to be close, you might as well call me Eloy. So here’s how this is going to work: you’re going toss us your coin purses. Then you and Threnn are headed back to Stormwind to get the rest of the protection money.”

“We are?” asked Threnn.

“You are.” Eloy said. “Because you’re leaving Naiara with us.”

“We’ll take care of her.” Aderyn said. “Auntie Aderyn and Uncle Eloy. We’ll be just as as careful as Thenia and Padraig. I know they watch her for free.” Aderyn let her left hand fall upon the hilt of her axe. “But such services are not cheap. Just think of us as a more expensive version of your parents. And we’re collecting back-payments.”

“It’s just a few hundred thousand crowns,” Eloy said. “She is priceless, isn’t she?”

Bricu and Threnn turned to look at each other. Neither said a word. After a few heartbeats, both turned back to Eloy and Aderyn.

“Right then,” Bricu said. “Let’s get this o’er with, aye?” He took a few steps forward, with Naiara on his back. She wasn’t babbling anymore; she was absolutely silent. Bricu could feel her breath on the back of his neck. It should have been reassuring, but it did nothing to ease Bricu’s worries. Halfway between Eloy and Threnn, he called upon the Light to shield Naiara from harm. She giggled as the Light covered her from head to toe.

The crack of gunfire from behind cut her giggle short. She started to wail.

Bricu didn’t hear if the shot bounded off the Light, nor did he feel the impact or heat of a bullet. He spun around to face where the sniper was hidden. The rifle’s muzzle was clearly out of the brush now, just where he had hoped he would be. He hurled his hatchet with all of his strength. It spun in the air, end over end, and landed squarely into the sniper. The man cried out in pain –almost as loud as Naiara– and started to run out of the orchard. He fell before he’d taken three steps. Bricu turned back to Eloy.

“Yeh should have settled fer the purses.”

No one paid his quip any attention: Threnn had already cleared the distance to the rest of Eloy’s crew.

—

Aderyn was closer than Eloy by a few steps. Threnn’s sword was out of its sheath with plenty of time to swing, but the woman she was charging had the advantage: standing still, feet planted, axe at the ready.

Between prayers to the Light, Threnn cursed at herself. Should’ve brought the two-hander. Should’ve brought a shield. Should’ve brought a sword that wasn’t three days out of the forge. She trusted in her own handiwork, certainly, but she wasn’t yet used to the weight of this design. New swords were like new lovers: every touch, every motion taught you something. She’d brought this sword in the hopes of practicing forms later on, when they picnicked after the apple picking was done.

So much for that.

She calculated as she ran. Aderyn’s swing would be slower, harder to check. If Threnn could feint, get her to commit to a blow…

The gunshot changed her plans. Instinct drove her into a dive and a roll, her heart wrenching as behind her, Naiara began to wail. There was no time to turn around and make sure they were all right. For now, she’d have to take the crying as reassurance that they were both still alive. Then she was crouched and ready. Aderyn was waiting for her, already starting her swing. The only thing for it was to throw herself inside the woman’s reach. Threnn launched herself forward in an ungainly leap, following the point of her sword. The women collided, Threnn’s momentum and the weight of the axe carrying them back towards the stand of oaks.

They tumbled together, legs tangling, falling gracelessly into the high grass.

Aderyn grunted, drew her knees up and kicked, sending Threnn backwards. The paladin scrambled to her feet as the bandit lurched to hers, both women checking their grips on their weapons. The tip of Threnn’s sword was red; the crescent blade of Aderyn’s axe was spotless. Aderyn’s tabard sported a large tear right below her right rib. She felt the wound with her left hand. “You cut me.”

“That was the point.” Threnn said. Behind her, Threnn could hear Bricu fighting with the rest of Eloy’s crew, but she still couldn’t spare a glance.

“Your man isn’t nearly as clever as his reputation,” Aderyn said. She wiped the blood off of her hand and adjusted her grip on her axe. “Three men, and all he has is a dagger.”

Threnn put her guard up. “Worry about the woman in front of you.”

Aderyn grinned and swung her axe, faster than Threnn thought possible. Threnn lunged foward, dodging the sharp crescent. Aderyn shuffled backwards, keeping her opponent at a distance. She let the momentum of her swing spin her around and brought the axe up to bear again, this time forcing Threnn to parry. The force of the swing almost tore the blade from Threnn’s hand, but she held on.

The axe blade rode the length of the longsword before it bit into the crosspiece. Threnn changed her guard to grip the sword with both hands, thinking Aderyn would wrench the axe up and either cut at her leg or stab with the pommel.

Aderyn did neither. She thrust the axe at Threnn, pushing the longsword up, but letting the tapered curves of the axe slam into her breastbone and shoulder. “Sweetheart, I’m not worried in the slightest.” She pulled the axe free from Threnn and started another swing.

—

Bricu gripped the hilt of his service dagger, and held the dagger so its blade was against his wrist. Even through his shirt, he could feel the cold metal of the blade against his wrist. Ahead of him were Eloy and two of his crew. Eloy hung back, daggers drawn. The other two drew their heavy longswords and charged.

On his back, Naiara was wailing. Normally, Bricu would have taken her out of her sling and comforted her, or Threnn would rock her or sing to her. Neither of them could do any of that now. It tore at his heart to hear her cry, but she would have to wait just a bit longer. He kept Naiara on his back, to shield her from the attacks, and sized up Eloy’s men. Both were wielding well-worn two handed swords, but neither one of them looked particularly proficient with their chosen weapons. They tried to flank him, which Bricu made easier by keeping a wide profile to them. His main worry was Naiara. Not Eloy, not his swordsmen, but his baby on his back.

“Lads,” Bricu said while back-pedaling, “whatever Eloy’s payin’ yeh, I’ll double it.”

“You can’t bribe them.” Eloy said. He was watching both fights unfold, and he didn’t hesitate to share his laughter. “I’ve promised them all work. Meaningful, challenging and rewarding work. You’re just offering them single payout!”

The first of Eloy’s swordsmen caught up to Bricu. His boiled leather and mail jerkin rattled against the pommel of his oversized sword. He was carrying the blade and charging in a way that –if it weren’t for Naiara– Bricu would have laughed at. But even clumsy, poorly trained idiot could get lucky. So Bricu side-stepped to the left, forcing both swordsmen to come at him from the right.

“Lads, I’ll triple it.” The closer of the two brought his blade up and drew a slash across Bricu’s chest. On the downswing, Bricu rushed into his guard and side-stepped the arc of the blade. The other swordsmen threw himself to where Bricu was and slashed a horizontal arc. The two blades narrowly missed.

“Right, I’m back t’doublin’ it then.” Bricu said. He was a dagger’s reach from the first man. “This is the part where yeh surrender, boyo.”

“Piss off.” The swordsmen threw an elbow into Bricu’s nose as he maneuvered his long blade around.

Bricu felt the rush of blood from his nose. Stars danced in front of his eyes as the pain rang through his head. Before the other man could swing his blade back, Bricu slashed his service dagger across the swordsman’s left arm, cutting through mail, leather and flesh. He stopped when he felt the tip of his dagger hit the bones in the man’s wrist. The swordsman cried out in pain as his arm fell, limp and useless.

“Should’ve taken my offer, squire.”

–

Somewhere behind them, Threnn could hear Bricu trading barbs with Eloy’s men. Naiara wailed, but it was a frightened sound, not a hurt one. For the moment, then, they were all right. She could devote her attention to her own fight.

She stepped back, out of the arc of Aderyn’s axe, but just barely. The blade whistled through the air inches away. Her chest ached where the last blow had landed, but Aderyn wasn’t about to let her take a moment to recover. Without armor or a shield, Threnn was at a disadvantage. The best she could hope for was to keep the other woman swinging until she tired herself out and got careless.

But looking at the muscles in Aderyn’s arms and the crooked grin on her lips, it would take a long time before the weight of the axe began to drag on her. There were still the two men on Bricu and Eloy himself to worry about.

No, she’d have to find another way to take Aderyn out of the fight.

This sword’s not for defending. It’s good steel and a sturdy bloody design, so attack already.

Threnn drove forward, forcing Aderyn to check her swing and block the incoming strike with the haft of her axe. Before the other woman could thrust back and throw her off-balance, Threnn pulled away and jabbed the pommel into the taller woman’s gut, eliciting an oof as the wind rushed out of her.

Aderyn’s grip on her axe loosened, but she didn’t drop it. She staggered back a step, sucking in a whooping lungful of air. Her eyes never left Threnn, watching for the charge.

It didn’t come. Threnn circled instead, wary of rushing into a trap.

“All right, then,” said Aderyn, her boots shuffling in the leaves. She wasn’t nearly as out of breath as she’d pretended to be, but was she turning her left side to Threnn a bit, protecting the wound on her right?

Threnn thought maybe she was. They circled a while longer, each occasionally feinting at the other, seeking out one another’s weaknesses and tells. As her path brought her around, Threnn saw Bricu taking on Eloy’s men. He kept his front to them, shielding Naiara from them. She had her fists buried in his shirt. Her face was red from crying; tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving trails that any other time would be wiped away and soothed with a kiss.

Enough. Enough of this.

She’d been battle-calm until now, holding fear and anger at bay to concentrate on the task at hand. It had never failed her on the field, letting her see which soldiers needed her help the most, where the fighting and injuries were thickest, knowing when to step in herself.
The sight of her frightened daughter changed that. Rage broke through the calm, and she let it wash over her. Superseding it, far stronger than the fury, was the need to protect. Without warning, Threnn rushed at Aderyn, a snarl tearing from her throat.

A mother needs sharp teeth to protect her cubs.

She saw the other woman ground herself, saw her bring up the axe, felt the tip of its wicked curve biting into her shoulder, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing but the snarling and snapping of teeth as they fell together once more, the howls of her daughter, and the momentary of resistance of blade puncturing flesh.
Aderyn planted her back leg, bringing them both to a stop. She grinned as she yanked her axe away and heard Threnn’s pained grunt, but the smile soon faded.

Something was very wrong.

Threnn stood before her, panting, knuckles white from her grip on the sword hilt. Aderyn stared at the paladin’s fingers dumbly for a moment, until realization dawned. Hands. Hilt. Dull pain flared in her chest and back: blade. “You bitch,” she whispered, before the color drained from her face and the blood bubbled past her lips. She sagged, the axe dropping from her hands at last.

Threnn pulled the blade from the other woman’s chest and let her fall.

—

The swordsman kicked the blade away and started to draw the short sword at his hip. Bricu switched the grip on his service dagger and stabbed him just below the rib cage. The swordsman couldn’t cry out. He struggled to breathe. Bricu twisted the blade deeper. His right hand on the hilt, Bricu put his left arm around the swordsman’s shoulders and slammed the crown of his head into the bridge of his opponnents nose. He spun them both around in time for the swordsmen to catch the full force of his partner’s claymore in his ribs.

Its blunted tip slammed into Bricu, just above his hip. Naiara screamed louder than her father, but Bricu couldn’t console her. He felt her dig her hands into his shoulders and bury her face into his neck. Bricu started to speak a few words of comfort to her, but the other swordsman started to pull his claymore from his comrade’s body. Comforting Naiara would have to wait.

Bricu side-stepped the swordsmen’s arc and threw three well aimed punches into the his body, focusing on the kidney and solar plexus. The leather and mail absorbed most of the blows, but each hit did its job. The swordsman snarled something at Bricu, and left his claymore embedded in the body of his fellow Red Hand. He drew his short sword in a smooth, quick motion and thrust it at where Bricu was. The lunge missed him by inches. Bricu had side-stepped again, this time into the swordsman’s guard. Before he could pull his blade back into position, Bricu put his arm around the man’s neck and held in close. The swordsmen’s short sword was completely out of position. Standing chest to chest, Bricu delivered two quick Andorhal Kisses to the bridge of the man’s nose. He crumpled into Bricu’s arms, then Bricu let him fall to the ground. For good measure, Bricu kicked the him in the face. Bricu bent at his waist to make sure that the swordsmen was either dead or unconscious. His short, jagged breathes confirmed the latter.

“Och wee one, its almost over.” Bricu said to Naiara. She kept wailing–he doubted she could even hear his comforting words at this point–but there was still one person left to deal with before he could hold her close. Bricu looked across the clearing for Eloy.

—

The wound in Threnn’s shoulder throbbed. She felt the warmth of her own blood trickling down her chest, but there wasn’t time for a complete healing just now, not while Eloy still stood. She drew the Light into herself, enough to stop the bleeding, and flicked her gaze towards Bricu and Naiara. Her daughter’s wails still keenly cut the air.

Bricu straightened from his most recently fallen opponent, and reached one hand up to soothe her as best he could while still keeping an eye on the field. He winced as he did it, a red stain spreading along his side when he lifted his arm. Threnn said another prayer. The cut didn’t feel deadly, but even the smallest wound could distract you during a fight. And from the way Eloy stood — hands casually over the hilts of his daggers, expression and posture slightly bored — she knew he was a man who would see every hesitation and take advantage of it. It was something she’d seen before.

He stands like Tarq.

They’d have to do this fast, then.

Still wincing from the pain, Bricu bent down and reached for one of the swords that his opponents had dropped. He kept one eye on Eloy, who stood stock still, the very image of confidence.

“Isn’t this where the right and noble Paladins offer me a chance to surrender?”

Bricu caught Threnn’s eye before answering. She gave him a nod. “No,” Bricu said through clenched teeth. “But if yer offerin’, we’ll consider it.”

Eloy responded with flash powder. In a blink of an eye, he was gone. Bricu dropped his sword and brought Naiara close to his chest. He spoke enough holy words to bring the Light around both of them. Naiara was still wailing, and being held this way did little to soothe her. Bricu’s fears were confirmed when he felt three quick hits to his back, where Naiara had been just moments before. Holding her, and still cloaked in the light, Bricu spun around quickly. Eloy was fast, almost dancing away from him, but Bricu didn’t need to hit him. He called upon the Light, speaking the prayers to hold Eloy in place.

For a heartbeat, Eloy was frozen in mid-stab. Bricu stepped to his left so Eloy’s blade would sail past him when he came to. In the same heartbeat, Eloy shrugged of Bricu’s prayer and finished his cut, missing Bricu by a hair’s breadth. Eloy brought his dagger up for a quick follow through, but Threnn parried the strike. Bricu jumped back, giving Threnn a chance to slide into his guard. She held the thin blade up, and Eloy’s dagger rode the blade down to the guard. Before he could pull it free, Threnn threw her elbow into Eloy’s nose. He dropped his dagger and staggered backwards, his left hand trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Eloy let go of his ruined nose and reached for more flash powder. Threnn called upon the Light, the same short prayer Bricu had uttered, and Eloy was held in place. He form was outlined by a soft golden light. With Eloy held in place a second time, Threnn lunged, scoring hits in Eloy’s shoulder and legs. As the Light faded, so did Eloy’s resolve. He crumpled to the ground, dropping his remaining blade.

“I yield!” he screamed, spraying blood before him. “Don’t kill me!”

Threnn kept the sword level with Eloy’s throat. “You threaten my husband and my child and you expect me to let you walk away?” She growled. “I should slit your throat. Right. Here.”

“I’m asking for compassion! One of the tenets…”

“Stow that fuckin’ religious shite yeh fuckin’ wanker,” Bricu said. In one arm he held Naiara, who was still shaken from the fight. Her wail had subsided and now she simply cried. In the other hand, he held his hatchet. “Threnny’s right. We should end yer miserable life right here. But that’d be a terrible disservice t’the Longwell’s an’ their orchards.”

“Thank you…” Eloy said.

Bricu interrupted his blubbering. “Don’t thank us yet. Yeh didn’t hear the terms.” He lifted his hatchet for emphasis. “Red Hands? That’s one too many.”

Eloy’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

“Sendin’ a message.” Bricu said.

Eloy started to move, but Threnn put the tip of the rapier against his throat. “Don’t.” She said.

“Put yer hands on the ground Eloy, palms down.” Bricu said.

Eloy did as he was told. Blood contiued to flow down his face. “Please. Don’t.”

Bricu gave Naiara over to Threnn. She took her daughter with her left arm and cradled her against her hip. Naiara clung to her mother and started to cry harder. The sword still at Eloy’s neck, Threnn started to whisper words of comfort to her daughter.

“Yeh beg for mercy when yeh stabbed where my wee girl was?” Bricu said. “If I gave inta me more base instincts, yer soul’d be screamin’ in the Nether for a thousand fuckin’ years. But, yer gonna do me an’ the missus a favor.”

“HOW? How can I be any use with one hand?!” Eloy screamed.

Threnn moved the sword away. Eloy started to scramble, but Bricu kicked him in the temple. He twirled the new hatchet in his hand as he loomed over Eloy. Threnn faced Naiara away from the man on the ground.

“Yeh don’t need two hands t’speak.”

The hatchet swung down, severing skin, muscle and bone in one strike. The sound of the blade driving through Eloy’s wrist and into the ground was not altogether unlike the thunk of an apple falling from its branch.

Only, screams didn’t normally come on the heels of fallen apples. Eloy had passed out from the kick to his head, but fresh pain pulled him back to consciousness. The glow of the Light surrounded him as Threnn closed the wound. As quickly as the pain had come, it was gone, yet the man continued to shriek, staring at the lump of flesh that had once been connected to his wrist. The shrieks dwindled down into snivelling as Eloy scrambled up onto his knees, cradling his shortened limb and gaping up at the family standing above him.

“There,” said Bricu. “One red hand ta match yer tabard. Now yeh bring the one I cut off back t’yer friends an’ tell ‘em how yeh lost it. Be sure ta tell ‘em the part where yeh tried takin’ yer blade ta a baby, so they know the price o’ tryin’ that shite again. Tell ‘em yeh got off light. Understood?”

Eloy nodded.

Bricu turned to Threnn and Naiara. “The applesauce is gonna have ta wait,” he said.

Threnn smiled, but her eyes were on Eloy, and they were troubled. “‘s fine. We still have peaches. She won’t miss it.” She brought her gaze back to Bricu. “Let’s just get home.”

“Aye.” He put one arm around his wife and his daughter as they left the orchard. In his other hand he held his hatchet.

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