He sobbed helplessly into the dirt, nose running. He stank with fear. “I left them after they done it. I wasn’t guilty. I didn’t do it!”
“After they done what?”
“Killed them! Raped them and killed them. Said they might try to escape. I said they ought to spare ’em. But no.”
“You touched none of those girls?”
“I didn’t kill them!”
“But you raped them! Isn’t that harm enough? And stood by and let them die after! Doesn’t that stain your hands with their blood? The one who refuses to act to save the innocent is as guilty as the one whose hand strikes the blow!”
These words set Heric caterwauling and writhing on the earth like a man having a fit.
“Roll over and sit up.”
Heric’s sobs ceased and, cautiously, he rolled onto his back, then sat, not even brushing off the leaf litter and dirt and twigs that smeared his rags. He eyed first Rage, who wanted to get back to licking the infected toe, then Sorrow, who yawned hugely to display his teeth.
Alain took a few breaths to clear his anger. “I believe you are telling the truth about those poor girls, but I’ll see those graves.”
“There aren’t no graves! The others slit their throats and cast them into the brush, that’s all.”
“Then you’ll bury their corpses. Lead me there.”
“Won’t! It’s close by the hidey-hole. We’ll be killed, you and me. Twenty of them agin’ two of us. I have no weapon, not now you took mine … unless you want to give me back my bow.”
“No, I don’t want to. Come, then.”
“We’re not going there, are we?” His voice rose in panic. “I don’t want to die.”
“Did those girls want to die? Did they cry and plead, Heric? Did you hear them begging while you stood by and watched?”
“I turned my back!” he said indignantly. “I’m not a monster, to watch murder done!”
“If turning your back is not a monstrous deed, then what is?” He signaled with a hand. Tails lashing, the hounds waited for his command.
“Where are we going?”
“To Lavas Holding.”
“Not there, I beg you! They’ll hang me! They’ll chop off my hands and then my head.”
“If you’re not guilty, why do you fear their justice?”
Heric spat into the dirt. Rage growled.
“Are you so wise?” he sneered. “What justice is there for a man like me? I served the old count faithfully, and what did I get for my good service? I got turned out by the new lord without even a thanks! An old hunting dog is treated better than I was! Lord Geoffrey will hang me just to be rid of another mouth to feed. He was happy enough to offer boots and clothes and a handful of sceattas when I brought you to him, for him to parade around the county. Because he thought folk would stop their whispering. And after—hsst!” He spat again. “After that storm, after you escaped, those who cheered most to see you mad and chained slapped me and spat on me and called me an evil man. Because they feared it was God sent the storm to free you. Why should I not fear their justice? They’ll be glad to hang me to make the shame pass from their own sinful hearts.”
“I’ll see you get justice.”
Heric laughed hysterically. “How can you do that? How can you? What are you? Where are you come from? What happened to the madness that ate at you?”
After all, Alain found that spite still lived in his heart. “A little late to ask those questions, isn’t it?” he said with a sour grin. He turned his back and began walking.
After a sharp rustle came a thump and a yelp of pain. Alain turned to see Sorrow sitting on Heric’s chest again. With a growl the hound opened his mouth and gently closed his jaws right over Heric’s face.
“Come,” said Alain firmly. Sorrow eased back, scratched an ear as though he didn’t know what for, and padded after Alain.
Blubbering, Heric rose and limped after, Rage bringing up the rear.