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so, Barg did not feel safe.
    They’d done a wicked thing today, killing the smith. Everyone had said he’d fought with the strength of twenty men, but Barg had seen it. He’d been there with his spear, and he knew Sparrow had not shown the workings of slethery. The smith was clean, may the Six bless him, which was all the more reason for his soul to seek justice.
    The smith’s wife, however, she was something else. She’d probably trapped Sparrow, trapped him like a spider. And like a spider, one day she would have eaten him. The Clan Lord had demanded they keep her alive for questioning. For bait. They placed the King’s Collar they’d taken from the royal house around her neck, laid her in the back of a wagon, and taken her away to the healers.
    And it was a good thing, for those that were sent to chase the girl and boy had searched past the river and scoured the woods all the way to the swamps. Lords, they’d even used dogs. But they found nothing. It was impossible—a girl and a blind boy! But the hunt had come back before dark, haggard and empty-handed. That right there was evidence the children knew her wicked ways.
    No, Barg did not feel safe, but he wasn’t a coward. He felt a great welling satisfaction, for when others had run today, he had stood his ground, and the Crab had noted it. Barg wasn’t going to ruin that honor tonight.
    He looked at his daughter. She grew brighter each day. He was actually trying to win this game against her and failing.
    He turned to his oldest son. “You’re going to have to take my place,” he said.
    “Why should you go?” asked his wife. “Nobody else will be there. Nobody would dare.” She sat at the table braiding the youngest boy’s hair for bed.
    “They will,” he said. “They’re counting on me. But I’ll be back soon enough. And I think I know a way to take this whole bloody mess off of your mind. We’ll go fishing tomorrow.”
    She looked at him in disbelief. “Fishing?”
    He leaned in close then whispered in her ear so the children couldn’t hear. “Happy plans will put the children at ease.”
    She looked down and said nothing.
    Barg kissed her gently on the cheek. Then he considered his girl and two boys. The firelight sparkled in their dark eyes. To think they had played with that woman’s hatchlings.
    “I’ll be back soon enough,” he assured them. “We’re taking quarter watches is all.” Then he belted on his sword and picked up his spear. Foss, their hunting dog, rose to go with him, and Barg opened the door.
    The smoke in the room curled out into the night. Barg pointed at the children. “You do your chores and get to bed and when you wake up in the morning, we’ll be off.”
    “To the river or the beach?” asked his oldest.
    They loved the beach. It would be a long day, but it would give them something to think about.
    “The beach,” he said. “We’ll roast crabs.”
    Then he shut the door behind him. He took a long drink of water from the bucket at the well then set off down the path that led to the Smith’s ruin, Foss padding along at his side.
    Smoke from the fires still hung heavily in the air. At the other end of the village, the last remains of Sparrow’s house smoldered. The fires had burned low, but they still cast enough light to silhouette the barn and outbuildings of the house next to Barg’s.
    Barg glanced back at his house a few times as he walked. The shutters were latched and snug. His wife had barred the door. They would be fine.
    As Barg got closer to the site, he looked about for the others. There were supposed to be ten men on each watch. Perhaps they were all bunched up behind the barn. But when he rounded the corner of the barn, he found his wife had been right: nobody was there.
    A few small fires still licked the last remains of Sparrow’s house and smithy. Barg skirted around the wide area of ash and burning coals, for the whole mess still produced a blistering heat. A small flame rose at the edge