“I’ll take your wretched collar and irons. But you know only Divines can conduct hunts. The only reason you haven’t killed us already is so that you can avoid the fines levied on mobs like this. Let it be known that on this day the laws of the Glory of Mokad have been set aside. Your blatant disobedience will be made known. And your own Divines will come to collect the debt of blood.”

The Divines would come. And they would punish these men, for the laws on this matter were clear and ruthlessly enforced: no man could take upon himself even the slightest part of the honor of a Divine. But the Divines would come too late.

Da walked forward and picked up the collar and irons.

They would almost surely use water for the ordeal. And Sugar’s family would drown. She’d once touched the cold, bloated body of a boy who had drowned. She envisioned Legs as that boy, and panic ran through her.

Da examined the irons and said, “It looks like your smithing is as bad as your judgment. I’ll need a hammer to assemble these pieces properly.”

“Those pieces are just fine,” said the district lord.

Mother turned to Legs and in a quiet voice said, “Get the shutters. Slowly now.”

Da began walking toward Mother and the open doorway.

Legs closed the shutters on the front of the house then moved to the back.

The district lord called out, “Stop!”

Da stopped only a few paces from the front step and looked back.

“Put on the collar,” said the district lord.

“Of course,” said Da. He dropped the irons in the grass. And then he dashed toward the house.

At that moment Mother moved back from the door and pulled Sugar in with her.

A cry of alarm rose from the soldiers.

“Shoot him!” commanded the Crab. “Shoot!”

THE COURAGE OF WOMEN



A

t the moment of the Crab’s command, the bowmen released their arrows, and Sugar saw the arrows fly.

Da took three, four strides. He leapt to the porch. Then an arrow struck him in the back below the ribs. Another flew like an angry insect into the house above her head and struck the wall behind her.

“Sparrow!” Mother called.

Da’s momentum carried him into the house, and Mother slammed the door shut.

More arrows struck the door. A man cried out, “I got him! I got him!”

Midnight and Sky had not followed Da. They barked viciously outside.

Mother pulled the crossbar on the door in place.

More bows thrummed outside and the dogs’ barks turned to screams. Then the dogs fell silent.

Da winced and looked down at his side. The arrow had not gone into the thick of his back, only cut the flesh on the side. But the blood still spilled from him like water. He pressed his hand to the wound.

“Those cursed blackhearts,” he said. He pulled his hand away wet with blood. “Get me a wrap,” he said to Mother. “All these years, and then they treat me like some feral dog.”

Mother took a knife to her dress and cut a long strip. “We should have ridden when I first suggested it. Why you can’t listen to me I’ll never know.”

“Well, you won’t have to fret about that much longer, will you?”

Mother was furious.