Servant: The Dark God Book One (Volume 1) by John Brown Page B

eaten and shat out by our pig for supper?”
    No response, only the leaves of the trees swaying in the small breeze. This hatchling wasn’t so fearsome, he thought. And had the Bailiff not said that a Koramite should bring the hatchlings in? Something shifted inside him. His fear deserted him, and he suddenly wasn’t thinking about what the hatchlings might do to him. He was thinking of what he could do with them. What they could do for him. And he suddenly realized that the villagers this morning had come after him, probably not out of fear, but dreaming of a fat bounty. Dreaming of this very opportunity.
    If he were adopted into the Shoka, he would still be Koramite, still owe duties to his ancestors. Being a Shoka by privilege did not change your blood. But Talen didn’t know if the adoption would really change his prospects. He’d still be a half-breed in most people’s eyes. However, if he could catch these hatchlings, it might not only mitigate some of the ill-will against his people, but it might also prove the quality of Da’s line, prove the quality of Talen’s breeding.
    Those villagers could dream all they wanted. They weren’t going to get the bounty. Oh, no. He thought of the tales of the heroes who had hunted sleth. Not all of them were from the ranks of the high and mighty. Maybe a little Koramite would win a spot in the chronicles.
    He could see himself purchasing that fine, Kishman’s bow, made of wood, horn, and sinew. There wasn’t a people who could make better bows than the Kish. He could purchase a quiver, worked with yellow and scarlet thread. But why settle for a bow? He’d get himself a horse.
    Talen drew up a third bucket, emptied it into the hoggin, and replaced the lid.
    He addressed the old sod house. “Every soul worth his salt will be hunting your clay-brained trail. You’re going to end up a boiled cabbage no matter what you do.” He paused. “You should have never begun with the Dark Art, but turn yourself in to me, and you’ll avoid a wicked beating. That’s a promise you’ll not get from any other quarter.”
    There was no answer, only the voices of Ke and Nettle in the distance.
    He realized then if the hatchling were an angry thing, it would kill Talen and stop his mouth. But it was either stupid or scared, for it had thrown away a perfectly good chance. Or maybe it was waiting for its master, the one that slew the butcher’s family in the village of Plum.
    That thought sent chills up his spine. That was a creature no lone Koramite would take. But he wasn’t going to let the fear of such things overcome him. It obviously wasn’t here now. And standing at the well all day wasn’t going to do him any good either, so he walked to the house with as much ease as he could muster and fetched the some cheese and apples.
    When he came back out, he paused. “You’re a fool to refuse my offer,” Talen called.
    There was no response, so he hefted the hoggin onto his shoulder, gave the farm one last glance, and headed back out to the fields. This time Blue and Queen came with him, Conroy bringing up the rear.
    It was clear he wasn’t going to be able to talk the hatchlings into giving themselves in, which meant he’d have to catch them. But he wasn’t going to be able to corner them like normal animals. Oh, no. He was going to need something entirely different.
    * * *
    Talen distributed the apples and cheese and passed the water to Ke. Nettle sat on the trunk of tree Ke and River had just felled. Next to him leaned the two-man saw. A strand of Talen’s hair fell into his face. After Sabin’s yank this morning, Talen was about ready to have Nettle hack it all off with his knife, but he undid the leather strap holding it, gathered his hair up, and retied it. Then he turned to Nettle. “You said you wanted to do something real? Well, we’ve got ourselves a whale of an opportunity.”
    Nettle plopped a hunk of cheese into his mouth. “What do you mean?”
    Talen faced the