head.
‘I’m not from here,’ Saeng called.
The leader turned his attention to her. ‘What is your name?’
‘Ahn.’
He snorted his disbelief. ‘Well …’ gave her a long lazy-eyed study, ‘the name doesn’t really matter, does it?’ Saeng saw how he eyed her long unbound hair. ‘You’re unmarried.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why so old yet unmarried? What’s wrong with you, Ahn?’
Stung, she raked a clawed hand at his face but he flinched aside, catching her wrist. ‘Now I see why,’ he laughed. ‘Too much of a temper. Well … we’ll see about that.’
She wrenched her hand free – or he allowed her to. ‘What are you going to do?’
He ignored her, gestured to one of his men. ‘Have them prepare a meal for us.’
‘Yes, Kenjak.’
Saeng stared anew at the fellow – hardly older than she. ‘Kenjak Ashevajak? The Bandit Lord?’
He smiled, clearly very pleased. ‘Ah! Heard of me, have you?’
Saeng looked away, damning herself for the outburst. ‘I have heard stories.’
He brushed errant strands of her hair from her shoulder. ‘You can tell me them all – tonight.’ She slapped his hand aside but he walked off, laughing.
Saeng caught a pitying look from the old woman. ‘I’m sorry, child,’ she murmured. ‘There is no succour here.’
‘I’m no child,’ Saeng growled, pulling at her tangled hair. She eyed the surrounding huts and fields.
Hanu, wherever you are, stay hidden! I’ll handle this
.
Under the watch of the bandits the villagers prepared a meal first for them, then for the roped gang of captives squatting in the square. Kenjak had Saeng sit next to him in the largest of the village huts. He offered her food pinched in his fingers, which she refused, much to his amusement.
As the evening darkened and the rains began, the young man turned to her again. He leaned back on an arm, saying, ‘So … tell me these stories,’ and he chewed on coconut meat, watching her steadily.
‘I could tell you what I have heard of your past …’ she began, slowly, ‘or I could tell you your future.’
The bandit leader stopped tossing pieces of dried coconut into his mouth. The talk around the low table among the man’s lieutenants died away. His gaze narrowed and Saeng was shaken to see for the first time true cruelty in someone’s eyes. ‘You are a witch?’ he asked, his voice flat.
She shrugged. ‘I have some small talents.’
Kenjak peered around the table, a mocking smile now on his lips. ‘This one claims to be a witch,’ he said, chuckling. ‘She is trying to scare us, I think.’ The gathered men and women eyed one another, laughing uneasily. ‘Go ahead. Read my future. Don’t you need a chicken? Or prayer sticks, perhaps?’
‘No. Nothing like that. I simply need to concentrate on the night.’
‘Be my guest, little witch.’
Saeng settled herself and stared out the door to the dark where the captives still squatted, hunched and wretched, in the now drumming rain. Peripherally, she saw the bandits’ hands sliding across their laps to the wood and bone grips of knives in their sashes . Kenjak, next to her, had not moved and she realized that they were now locked in a game neither could back away from: he displaying his fearlessness and she – to his mind – attempting to terrify everyone. She had no doubt he was not bluffing; he would kill her if he so chose. But what he did not understand was that she was not bluffing, either.
Saeng now attempted something she’d never dared before, and reached out to her brother. ‘
Hanu
,’ she called through the arts taught her by the shades. ‘
Do you hear me?
’
‘
Saeng? Is that you?
’ came his astonished reply.
‘
Yes. Do not show yourself! Leave this to me
.’
‘
I am watching. If anyone—
’
‘
No! They mustn’t see you
.’
‘Well?’ Kenjak urged. ‘We’re waiting.’
‘I see your death,’ she announced, proud of the steadiness of her voice.
‘I am grey-haired and between the legs of
‘I’m not from here,’ Saeng called.
The leader turned his attention to her. ‘What is your name?’
‘Ahn.’
He snorted his disbelief. ‘Well …’ gave her a long lazy-eyed study, ‘the name doesn’t really matter, does it?’ Saeng saw how he eyed her long unbound hair. ‘You’re unmarried.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why so old yet unmarried? What’s wrong with you, Ahn?’
Stung, she raked a clawed hand at his face but he flinched aside, catching her wrist. ‘Now I see why,’ he laughed. ‘Too much of a temper. Well … we’ll see about that.’
She wrenched her hand free – or he allowed her to. ‘What are you going to do?’
He ignored her, gestured to one of his men. ‘Have them prepare a meal for us.’
‘Yes, Kenjak.’
Saeng stared anew at the fellow – hardly older than she. ‘Kenjak Ashevajak? The Bandit Lord?’
He smiled, clearly very pleased. ‘Ah! Heard of me, have you?’
Saeng looked away, damning herself for the outburst. ‘I have heard stories.’
He brushed errant strands of her hair from her shoulder. ‘You can tell me them all – tonight.’ She slapped his hand aside but he walked off, laughing.
Saeng caught a pitying look from the old woman. ‘I’m sorry, child,’ she murmured. ‘There is no succour here.’
‘I’m no child,’ Saeng growled, pulling at her tangled hair. She eyed the surrounding huts and fields.
Hanu, wherever you are, stay hidden! I’ll handle this
.
Under the watch of the bandits the villagers prepared a meal first for them, then for the roped gang of captives squatting in the square. Kenjak had Saeng sit next to him in the largest of the village huts. He offered her food pinched in his fingers, which she refused, much to his amusement.
As the evening darkened and the rains began, the young man turned to her again. He leaned back on an arm, saying, ‘So … tell me these stories,’ and he chewed on coconut meat, watching her steadily.
‘I could tell you what I have heard of your past …’ she began, slowly, ‘or I could tell you your future.’
The bandit leader stopped tossing pieces of dried coconut into his mouth. The talk around the low table among the man’s lieutenants died away. His gaze narrowed and Saeng was shaken to see for the first time true cruelty in someone’s eyes. ‘You are a witch?’ he asked, his voice flat.
She shrugged. ‘I have some small talents.’
Kenjak peered around the table, a mocking smile now on his lips. ‘This one claims to be a witch,’ he said, chuckling. ‘She is trying to scare us, I think.’ The gathered men and women eyed one another, laughing uneasily. ‘Go ahead. Read my future. Don’t you need a chicken? Or prayer sticks, perhaps?’
‘No. Nothing like that. I simply need to concentrate on the night.’
‘Be my guest, little witch.’
Saeng settled herself and stared out the door to the dark where the captives still squatted, hunched and wretched, in the now drumming rain. Peripherally, she saw the bandits’ hands sliding across their laps to the wood and bone grips of knives in their sashes . Kenjak, next to her, had not moved and she realized that they were now locked in a game neither could back away from: he displaying his fearlessness and she – to his mind – attempting to terrify everyone. She had no doubt he was not bluffing; he would kill her if he so chose. But what he did not understand was that she was not bluffing, either.
Saeng now attempted something she’d never dared before, and reached out to her brother. ‘
Hanu
,’ she called through the arts taught her by the shades. ‘
Do you hear me?
’
‘
Saeng? Is that you?
’ came his astonished reply.
‘
Yes. Do not show yourself! Leave this to me
.’
‘
I am watching. If anyone—
’
‘
No! They mustn’t see you
.’
‘Well?’ Kenjak urged. ‘We’re waiting.’
‘I see your death,’ she announced, proud of the steadiness of her voice.
‘I am grey-haired and between the legs of
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