Oath Bound (Book 3) (11 page)

Windish

Dingus’s heart hammered.
He lay on his back, listening to rain spatter off the oiled canvas of his tent
and trying to slow his breathing.

The hanging dreams were
the worst ones. During the day, he could forget what had happened outside
Thundering Hills, but at night it roared back to eat him alive, and he felt the
rope closing off his air. He saw Curran’s face, twisted, disgusted that Dingus
should waste his time. Tonight, though—it could’ve been worse.

He could’ve been Tai.

He had to admire the
little Ishling, if for no other reason than Tai had
survived.
The last
six days, he’d been out to Sodee Market every noon. Tai could disappear like a
sparrow in a bush, but after Dingus found him three days running, he didn’t
even try to hide, probably ’cause meeting up with the “crazy Big” meant he got
all he could eat. That was all he’d take, though. Dingus had tried, two days
ago, to give him a new tunic. It didn’t go over well. Tai had refused, saying,
“I is get in trouble for take it,” which had baffled Dingus. Why would anybody
get in trouble for having clothes that didn’t look like holey gray cheese?

He’d demanded to know
where Tai’s parents lived, but Tai, he’d learned, didn’t
have
parents.
No dad, which you could survive without, he and Kessa were proof of that—but no
ma either? No big-mama, like Tikka was, to rule the house like they did in
Windish, and nobody like Vandis, nobody at all who cared about him. Instead,
Tai had Laben, who took what he stole and gave him a leaky roof in return, and
a few other Ishlings in the same boat; but when Dingus asked to be taken to
Laben, Tai flatly refused and wouldn’t discuss it, not one word more.

I have to do
something,
he kept thinking.
It’s in the Oath, right there, about four
different ways. Even if it wasn’t I’d have to do something. Just don’t see what
I
can
do.
What he wanted was, he wanted to grab Tai and bring him
back to the camp and just—keep him. Dingus was pretty sure the Lady wouldn’t
think much of that attitude, nor Vandis. Tai was little, and if he got cleaned
up he’d be cute as hell, but he wasn’t a pet, he was a person.

Dingus wouldn’t be here
forever. Vandis would return in about a fortnight, and then they’d get back on
the road. His Master had been making noises about Oasis, and he wanted to see
it, definitely wanted to see the houses made of mud brick, or set into the
cliffs in artificial caves. A few days ago he would’ve said he couldn’t wait to
lay eyes on a new place, eat new food, explore new countryside—but now, on top
of the constant, dull worry about Vandis hovering in the back of his mind, he
worried about Tai, too, and that was a knife he kept testing with his thumb no
matter how well he knew it was sharp. When they left Windish, he’d probably
never see Tai again. He couldn’t give the Ishling anything that would last.
From what Tai said, Laben would take away anything Dingus gave him, and the
food didn’t last at all; it got eaten up and shat out, and that was the end.

Dingus would have to give
something nobody could touch or steal, and the only way he could think to do
that was to teach Tai something. It’d have to be something that didn’t need equipment,
except maybe the knife he knew Tai carried. Fungus would be easy, but there
were plenty of mushrooms that’d make even a big human dirty-dog sick, and some
that were deadly poison. Some of them looked a lot like the ones that were good
to eat, too. He didn’t want to teach Tai to gather something good and have him
stuff himself on death angels instead as soon as Dingus disappeared over the
horizon. And Tai was smaller than, or the same size as, plenty of the available
game. Besides, chances were, anybody’d get sick if he ate uncooked squirrel.
But fish—that was easy, and in a pinch it could be eaten raw.

Grandpa had taught him
fishing first thing. He’d learned how to tickle trout even before he’d known
how to build a safe fire. Plus, it was fun, and as a bonus for him, Tai would
get clean in the water. He didn’t like to say so, since Tai couldn’t help it,
but the Ishling stank to high heaven, sweat and butt and Lady knew what else.
Fishing would just about do it, Dingus decided. He rolled to his side, shut his
eyes, and fell asleep with a smile.

By dawn, the rain
slackened into drizzle, but by about dinnertime it was still going, and Kessa
begged to be allowed to stay in camp. He extracted her solemn word, hope to
die, that she wouldn’t go anywhere and set off for Sodee Market by himself.

When he got there, he
didn’t find Tai in any of the places he’d learned to look, so he found one of
the long, flat rocks that served as benches—near the bridge, but under the
trees, not too open—and sat down to wait. He watched the traffic ease by: the
taller human traders, with their wives; Ish women in clean tunics on a lunch
break from whatever job they held; Ish men in sweaty ones doing the same; girls
taking a break from school and boys trying to flirt; couples young and old. The
ones he watched, to be honest, were the graying or white big-mamas with mobs of
Ishlings skipping, all-footing, and piggybacking all around them: squealing,
jumping, giggling Ishlings with soft, clean fur. He drew up his knees and
crossed his forearms over them.

The Ishlings made him
smile, but then he thought about it and his face fell. He didn’t understand how
some little ones could be so valued, so loved, and some were nothing, less than
nothing, not even noticed. Twice he saw Bigs get their purse strings cut by
filthy little creatures that disappeared before anyone could catch them, or
even see that it had happened. They were gone before Dingus could mark where
they’d run to. Maybe he should’ve said something, but not everybody would understand
the position those Ishlings were in, or care to. All they’d care about was that
somebody’d stolen from them and seeing the thief punished. Maybe he was wrong
not to stop the little ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was
punishment enough to be an orphan in Windish. He’d had a shitty time of things
growing up, but at least he’d been loved. Grandma and Grandpa never once made
him feel they didn’t want him. He
knew
Ma hadn’t wanted him, but she
loved him too, in her fucked-up way at least. These kids, though—nobody and
nothing. It hurt just to think about.

A little after noon, he
saw Tai poke his head out from behind one of the trees. He eased out to the
side, slow, clinging to the bark with his long toes, and sat there in the
shadow at a Big’s waist level. Dingus gave a little whistle, and when Tai
glanced over he pulled his hood back just enough that the Ishling could see his
face.

Tai scowled in a way only
Ish could scowl, baring tiny fangs, and Dingus grinned. Tai shut his coal-black
eyes in exasperation and sank against the tree, sighing visibly; then he put
his knife away and jumped down into traffic. A moment later he hopped onto the
bench. “What’s giving, crazy Big?” he demanded in his chirpy little voice.

“Here to see you, that’s
all.”

“Without Kessa?”

“She said it’s too wet,
but I don’t mind.” Dingus smiled.

Tai considered. “What you
is feed me? Is we get noodles? I is loving noodles.”

“I love ’em, too, but how
’bout we do something different today? I wanna show you something my grandpa
showed me.”

“Outside market, is you
mean?” When Dingus nodded, Tai shook his head vigorously. “Uh-uh, that idea,
it’s bad.”

“You sure?”

“I gots to stay here.”
The Ishling grimaced.

“You could even hitch a
ride on my back,” Dingus offered, hoping he’d be able to turn somebody up sweet
for once.

“
Babies
do like
that.”

“Or real little guys who
got real big guys for friends, and they want to go someplace.”

Tai glanced around. “Oh,
now we is friends?” he said, in a sarcastic tone almost as good as Vandis’s.

“C’mon. It’ll be fun.”

“Maybe.” He looked around
once, twice more. “Just now. Not again.”

Dingus hoped he’d be able
to convince Tai more often than that, but he didn’t say so, only stuck his
thumb out and pointed at his back. “Hop on.”

Tai leapt up and draped
his pin arms over one of Dingus’s shoulders. Little fingers and toes curled
into his jerkin; one foot wedged into his armpit.

“Ha ha—that tickles!”

“Hee hee,” Tai cheeped
slyly, and wiggled his toes to draw another laugh—but he moved the foot
afterward. Dingus stood, stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked out across
the bridge to the road. Tai didn’t weigh a thing, maybe as much as Dingus’s
brush knife, the one Vandis had given him when he got his leaf, but the tiny
body was rigid with tension. After a while, Tai said, “Zeeta, she is tell me I
isn’t talk to you. Bigs is trouble, she is saying, and I is thinking she’s
right. Here I is, leaving market on a Big’s shoulder.”

“You wanna go back?”

“
No
,” Tai said,
grabbing his jerkin so hard it pinched the skin underneath.

“Just making sure.” He
ducked off into the trees. “You ready? Hang on tight now.”

“Huh!”

Figuring to teach Tai a
lesson, Dingus stretched out into a loping run, and then a flat sprint. Tai
shrieked with fright and plastered himself on. “Hang on tight,” he warned
again, just before he went airborne over a little gully. This time, Tai
listened; he let out a delighted squeal that Dingus could swear tore a hole in
his eardrum.

“So fast!” Tai cried. His
voice sounded even squeakier with glee.

“Told you it’d be fun,”
Dingus said, and ran on, pleased with the happy cheeps and chirps all the way
to the spot he’d picked out. There was a nice crick chuckling along in his
path, and up just a bit there, a short waterfall. “Here we are.”

“What’s here?” Tai asked
next to his ear, disgusted. Dingus had thought it was a pretty place: dark
rocks, clear water, and all around, the green.

“Get down so I can get
ready, and I’ll show you what fast hands are really good for.” Tai jumped off
and Dingus knelt to loosen his high boots. They were already damp, but he
didn’t want to wade out in them and squelch the whole rest of the day. He put
his stockings inside them and rolled his breeches so they’d stay above his
knees. Tai watched him, suspicion in the coal eyes, and, when he opened the
toggles on his jerkin, backed off.

“Is this what you wants
to show me?” It was the flattest voice he’d ever heard from any Ish.

“Huh?”

“You is just the same as
all thems. The bad ones.” Tai went to all fours, bristling. “I isn’t do that.”

“What—you don’t like
fishing?” He’d cottoned on by now to what Tai meant, but he refused to dignify
it with a direct response.
It’s not enough you got a life a dog wouldn’t
want?

“Fishing?” Tai blinked.

“Yeah! Watch.” He took
off his jerkin, but left his tunic on, hoping it’d put Tai more at ease, and
pushed his sleeves up instead. He waded in a little ways from the fall. Then he
crouched—got soaked, but he was already wet so it didn’t much matter—and felt
around under the rocks.

“What you is looking
for?” Tai asked, lying belly-down where Dingus searched and trying to see. He
got in Dingus’s way, but Dingus didn’t really need his eyes for this.

“Just a minute,” he
whispered. His fingertips brushed the slippery side of a fish, and he stroked
lightly up until he could strike, shoving his fingers into its gills. He pulled
it from under the rock and out of the water: a good-sized trout that flapped
and gasped in protest.

Tai did a sudden backflip,
something to see for sure, since he sprang at least twice as high as he was
tall. “Wow, wow!”

“I got a needle in the
bottom hem of my jerkin. You want to go get that for me?”

“Yes, I gets it, I gets
it!” Tai rushed over to fetch the needle, practically vibrating with
excitement.

Dingus dug twine out of
his pocket. “You know how to use one of those?”

“I puts the string in the
hole, yes?”

“That’s right. Will you
do that?”

The needle looked huge in
Tai’s hand, but he managed it.

“Okay, now pull it out
double—yeah, like that—and tie me a double overhand at the bottom.”

“What?”

“Uh, sorry. Just tie a
knot and then tie it again. There you go.” He took the needle and strung the
desperate fish through the roof of its mouth. “See, that puts him out of his misery,
poor fucker, and you can hold him,” he said, handing it over once it’d stilled.
“Watch close!” He caught three more fish, one after another, and then said,
“Now it’s your turn to try.”

“Oh, no no,” Tai said,
holding his palms out. “I isn’t think so.”

“Just as well.” Dingus
straightened. “Not just anybody can do it. Like I said before, it takes fast
hands.”

“You wants to work
lifting, you gots to have fast hands. My hands is very fast.”

“Caught you though,
didn’t I? Must mean mine are faster.” He stepped out of the water, dripping in
time with the rain.

“Huh! You isn’t can pick
the pocket of an old blind big-mama. You gots nothing.”

“I don’t need to pick
pockets. I can get my own food anytime I want with no money at all. All I need
is my two hands.” He held them up, spreading his fingers. “But I guess if you
can’t—”

“Whoa, whoa. I isn’t say
I can’t. I is, if I wants. I just isn’t want.”

Dingus smiled. “Whatever
you say.”

“I can. You is watching me
now.” Tai slipped into the stream and started feeling along the undersides of
the rocks, the same way Dingus had. “You watch,” he said, glaring defiantly. “I
gets a fish.”

In fact, he did get his
hands on a fish, and quick, too, but it was a big one, and when he pulled it
out from under the rock, he overbalanced, dropping it. It splashed away as he
toppled into the stream, and Dingus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from
laughing.