For She Doth Murder Sleep

[Aldridge Moor]

Flickering eyes on a great hulking gray form in the dark.

He kept the thoughts of Komi and Hracken in his mind for as long as he could hold. But hours passed and the memories settled into the past and the damn spider was still there, and the song faded from his lips as the creature sat, eyes unblinking. It had long since cleaned out and discarded the half-scorpion it had been given some time after his arrival, and now there was only silence, and eyes.

Time passed into swirling darkness.

The guards came to take him away. He felt their words glance off him as Komi?s and Hracken?s had, when they had come to visit. Couldn?t respond. Waited for them to lose their patience, pile into the cell and drag him out by the wrists.

Stairs. He was tired enough already, why did he have to climb all of these stairs? The two guardsbeasts at his shoulders caught him as he tottered under the weight of time, terror and sleeplessness.

At times I walk alone on path gone black...

But Komi?s song fell away again. A ribbon that he couldn?t keep hold of in a storm.

More ribbons. The names of the guards to either side of him. Hracken?s sympathy, and his advocation of surrender, when he?d come to the cells. Komi?s voice, the warmth of her paw, the tears on her face. Scraps fluttering around him, darting between clouds of nothing and all against a backdrop of the damned grey-furred spider beast, fangs sunk into the fresh corpse of the Highlander, held aloft by mountain range legs and staring at him with blackwater ocean-eyes.

He landed on something, and felt his wrists being reshackled. Nire?s office swam in and out of comprehension. The lynx spoke, but his words took time to mean anything.

?Most beasts dislike the sight of Bessie, but only one in a hundred scream like you do. Nachik, his meal, please.?

A wooden slab slid in front of him. A mug of water, a small fish steak, some vegetables.

Water.

Aldridge sucked half of it down in one gulp. His raw throat thanked him.

?I have some experience with bringing prisoners back from a period of hunger and thirst. This is not enough, but it will make sure that when we are done here and you are released back to the mess hall, you do not gorge yourself. Beasts have done so before, and I wonder if you know? For a beast in your condition, even the strain of vomiting can be enough to kill.?

Aldridge ate, and drank, and the room drifted into focus. Nire had returned to his paperwork. The beast called Nachik had left. His own paws were shackled to the table, with enough freedom of movement to eat.

Behind every wall and under every surface, the creature lurked.

Aldridge shuddered, swallowed the last mouthful of fish. Kali had called the beast a spider, but had missed the difference between a puddle and an ocean - only one presented any real risk of drowning.

?Ah, you?re done.? Nire placed his papers to one side, folded his paws on the table, looked evenly at Aldridge, spoke like a judge. ?Understand that I have not reached this decision easily. Your work is exemplary - I have already caught a guard in the middle of selling his bow for a surprising amount of coin.?

Here it came.

?Nonetheless, you are to replace the Highlander. The fact of your crime is greater than my need for a bowyer. And for as long as we have your Apprentice, I have enough insurance to be sure that even if you die, your practices won?t.?

Aldridge looked to his left, out though Nire?s office window.

The sun hovered a scant paw-breadth from the horizon. Clouds were streaked faint against a dulled blue and grey mess of a sky, hanging still, untouched by any wind.

?I understand,? he managed to say.

?Good. You will spend your days in training, with Trainer Blue and the rat from the South. And you will spend your evenings in your workshop, continuing your work and teaching your Apprentice anything she does not yet know. I will have beasts watching you throughout the day. If you deviate from this, it will be reported to me and I will act accordingly. Do you understand??

The last of the fog fell away from Aldridge and he nodded. The lynx had him on watch. The first part of the punishment was over. He would be working hard - perhaps harder than ever before. It would all be with beasts he knew and liked, but the ghost of the Highlander would haunt every moment they worked together.

?Good. Then let?s talk about your sigil. I am told that every beast from Madder Barrow has a Mark, a symbol that sets them apart from the other beasts there. I brought your Apothecary in here yesterday. He sketched this for me.?

Nire pushed a square of paper across the table. Aldridge?s Mark - a bow, an arrow, encircled in cord. Dread crept up Aldridge?s spine. The dead hare?s paw, perhaps, moving to strangle him. Or the tip of the spider?s foreleg, fangs ready to strike at his neck.

?You killed a Highlander. Taller, stronger and better armed than you. When you win your first fight, you will make your name - and from then, I will use this symbol to tell Northvale when you?ll be fighting.?

?No.? Aldridge?s voice shook. Terror, anger, exhaustion all escaped him at once. ?No, please.?

Nire looked thoughtful for a moment, sat back in his chair. ?Make your case,? he said.

?A Barrow-beast?s Mark is what sets them apart. It tells you what they do for the Barrow, how they protect and serve the beasts around them.? His voice came out all wrong, but he didn?t care. ?A Mark cannot be used to glorify murder. It defies the nature of it.?

Lightning sparked, faint but there. A thought came to him and he fell on it as a wolf on the first doe of spring.

?Revana - remember? You told me about Revana! A squirrel monarch would have died rather than fight here under the Royal Family?s banner. That?s what a Mark means to us!?

The lynx?s eyes cut through him. ?You claim to feel the same fury she did, when I proposed her Sigil??

Aldridge nodded, short, sharp, twice.

Silence, as Nire?s eyes bored into him.

?I believe you,? the lynx finally said. ?Now, make no mistake. You will be a murderer before long - all the best of us are. But I will afford you this: You will be remembered for some other design. Clashing teeth and a Marl knife, perhaps. The fury, and the signature weapon.?

Ah, this again. Doing him a favour to keep his guard down.

Aldridge forced himself to relax, as though he found the outcome agreeable.

?Then it?s agreed,? Nire said, and then pulled a rope. A bell sounded somewhere, and the door behind Aldridge opened. ?Nachik, would you please take Aldridge to the mess hall? By my reckoning, there is still half an hour of dinner time remaining.?

?Aye, sir.? A new voice. The mink unfastened Aldridge?s shackles from the table, and helped him upright. They walked down several flights of stairs and along a few tunnels, all in an oddly professional silence. Aldridge thanked him when they reached the mess hall, and again when the mink removed his shackles completely.

He ate well. Fish, bread, soup, a jug of water. No wave of nausea as it settled. Beasts tried to strike up conversation but he merely shook his head, apologised with a look, kept stuffing food into his mouth.

He staggered to the sleeping area and sat, leaning back against a reasonably comfortable part of the wall.

He closed his eyes and was pulled backward into a world of ink, arms held down by the forelimbs of a spider made of granite and stardust, footpaws by the paws of the Highlander?s corpse animated by some puppeteer. And he tried to scream, but he could not.

---

"Oi! Gerrup! Ain't never seen a beast sleep like ye wot wuzn't dead."

Aldridge?s eyes snapped open to pounding pain in his head and his side. The sleeping area was empty; the other slaves had all woken and gone.

He groaned, and clutched his ribs. ?You kicked me??

??'Ellgates, is dat a question? Aye. I kicked yer? an' I'll kick ye agin. If ye ain't gunna git yore soggy, flea-ridden pelt up fer th? mornin? bell, wot else is I serposed ter do??

Aldridge managed to push himself upright, and he scowled at the peg-legged weasel as he nursed his ribcage. ?Good morning to you too.?

Hargorn chuckled like riverside gravel made filthy by tidal backwash, and shoved him in the vague direction of the mess hall.

Aldridge managed not to trip. He vowed a similarly petty revenge against the awful creature.

The mess hall again. This time, though, he nodded to the beasts he knew as he passed them. Most nodded back, though some looked away.

He sat with Blue and Hracken to eat. Their trenchers were nearly gone; his was piled high.

?You?ll be replacing the Highlander.? Blue?s voice was distant, the colour of her eyes dulled by the hare?s ghost.

Aldridge nodded, ?Aye.? There were no other words for it.

?We?ve a much better chance of working well together, though, Miss Blue.? Hracken tried, faltering, for the upside.

?Oh, aye?? It rebounded from her dulled expression and fell flat, like a kit?s arrow from a breastplate.

?Indeed! Well, you see, Aldridge here was telling us about his time in the Southern Horde and well, I?m from the South, and I spent some time in hordes too, so I thought we?d perhaps have quite likely seen the same fighters or trained the same ways???

?Aye? Well, won?t that be nice. Perhaps you?ll live past a fortnight in the Arena, Mister Moor.?

Aldridge winced. ?I?ll do my best to keep this one alive at least,? he said, gesturing to Hracken with his spoon.

The beast to Hracken?s other side flinched.

?Ain?t that kind. You never did say why you took such a shine to our Hracken, aye.?

?There?s a bearing held by every beast who wishes to better themselves,? Aldridge managed to say to the ferret?s eyes, coloured now more like frostbitten river than spring sky.

?Oh aye? And I suppose our Hracken carries himself with that great bearing??

?Hracken. You.? Her gaze flickered away and back. ?The dog-fox trainer. The marteness.?

?You hear that, Hracken? He?ll be spilling his heart to Hapley and Nix next, aye.?

?We should never be afraid to spill our hearts to anyone, Miss Blue.?

And Aldridge knew, somehow and with absolute certainty, that Hracken truly believed himself.

?Well then, let?s get to it, aye?? Blue?s eyes still hadn?t regained their vibrancy, and he knew that there was nothing he could do about that. But something flashed behind them when she met his gaze, and she barked out like the trainer she was: ?Twenty laps!?

Oh, Gates no.

Aldridge focused on keeping his breakfast under control, and Hracken lapped him twice. A bad start.

Blue left them to recover for a moment, and came back with two massive yokes across the back of her neck, empty buckets hanging from chains on the end of each one. ?Take these down to the wash-room. Fill them from the sluice. Bring them back up here. Trainin?s thirsty work.?

They sighed at the same time, and grinned at each other over the absurd moment. Behind the rat?s eyes, only a little doubt. But then Aldridge remembered his words and looked away. Even after seeing what Aldridge had done to Kentigern rather than admit false defeat, the rat had advocated surrender.

They yoked up and strode into the Arena proper and down through the rest of the Underbelly into the Drag.

?You held up, then.? Hracken?s voice, a little quieter than usual.

Wrought by torchlight, flickering shadows throughout the bath-house surged and mocked him. The damned spider. The damned Highlander. Both looming and dissipating, time and again.

?No,? Aldridge admitted. ?I was overwhelmed, in the end. My first sight of Bessie left me with a week of bad dreams. This... was far worse. Every time I close my eyes??

The rest remained unsaid.

They worked to fill the buckets in silence and when they were full, they had a very heavy look to them.

?This isn?t going to be easy?? The near-black rat placed himself carefully beneath the yoke, straightened himself against the weight until finally the two large buckets of water came off the ground.

Aldridge had to try three times before he placed his footpaws and braced his back well enough to take the load.

?Off we go, then!? Hracken seemed unduly cheerful. An idea ran through Aldridge?s mind - the rat?s lost pups. This was perhaps the happy memory of collecting water with them, surfacing without his realisation.

They made their way, over the course of what felt like half a day, back up to the training ground.

Blue was waiting for them. ?I had the feeling you two would be stubborn enough to manage it, aye. You get the first of it.?

She handed them each an old wooden mug and they filled them, drank them down as only a beast who?s sweated away half their weight can.

When Aldridge was halfway through his third mug, Blue chivvied them away and beckoned the rest of the beasts over to take their fill. The first beast to the water was Kali - whatever was Kali doing here? In any case, her antics were intact. She dunked her whole head into the water, cutting off her own complaints of training being thirsty work. A crowd of other beasts grumbled at the now-bat-flavoured water.

Blue took two particular weapons from Ulrich?s table, and handed the blunted cutlass to Hracken. Something dark flitted across her eyes as she gave the blunted Marl blade to Aldridge.

?You and the Highlander,? she said to Hracken, ?weren?t working together, aye. You didn?t know each other?s strengths, weaknesses, or tactics. Now you?ve a new partner. And if you?re lucky, you have a sevenday until you?ve to prove yourself on the Crater sands. And the best way to learn all those things about each other is to spar, aye? I?ll count the touches you score on each other. You spar until you drop.?

Aldridge?s legs burned, but he stood ready. He eschewed the same even stance he had always used for a fight, knowing that it would bring the dead Highlander back to both of the beasts in front of him. Instead he stood as Hracken did, right footpaw forward, weight held evenly on both. Blade in right forepaw, drifting to the side.

Familiar.

The near-black rat?s scimitar flashed, and the Marl blade rose to meet it.

Three blows and three parries. On the third, Aldridge loosened his grip enough to slide the Marl knife around the side of the scimitar, tightened his grip again, and bounced the blunted tip of the blade off the rat?s collarbone.

?Ah, I?m being too civilised,? Hracken muttered. ?Damn this place.?

?Bring out the savage or die, aye. Learn it here, and then forget it again when we?re away.? Aldridge moved his footpaws into a bracing stance as Hracken?s eyes visibly hardened.

?None of this is personal,? Hracken said.

Aldridge nodded, and the rat laid into him. His size and weight were exhausting; each blow threatened to drive through Aldridge?s parries unless he spent as much force pushing back as he?d had to against the Highlander?s claymore.

Five blows, and Aldridge?s grip failed. The blunted edge of the scimitar thumped into his gut, leaving his belly roiling.

They carried on like this for quite some time. One scored a blow, the other learned a lesson, they fought again. Blue scowled at them whenever they waited more than a few seconds between each bout, and positively seethed when they went for water.

---

The sun hit its highest point, and shortly thereafter a loud whistle pierced the training ground. ?Break for lunch!? The sheer stentorian volume of the fox Hapley?s voice.

?Sixteen to the stoat, nineteen to the rat,? Blue said. ?Keep this up and you might both survive longer than a tenday, aye.?

The profound hunger left over from his time with Bessie had gone now. Aldridge did not feel the need to bolt his food, and made a note never to do so again, lest he be given another twenty laps.

But this time, with enough of his mind recovered and alert, the fish reminded him of Hunter Tanra and turned to ash in his mouth. Damnation. Would this place never relent? Loss and horror and fury around every corner!

Aldridge forced himself to put away the last of his meal, stood and stretched out aching muscles, trying his best to forget Hunter Tanra for now. Another mug of water from the now half-empty buckets and he was ready to lose himself, at least for a few more hours, in the adrenaline of the spar.

Before he could do so, Komi?s eyes caught him. He recognised the concern, less immediate than she?d shown by Bessie?s cage, but just as consuming. He gave her something of a smile, and she returned one just as pale.

He made his way back over to Blue, but before she could send them on another twenty laps, they were joined by Trainer Hapley.

?Miss Blue.? He nodded to them both. ?I would like to borrow Mister Moor, if you?ll allow it.?

She sighed. ?Aye, why not. Have him back to me in an hour, I?ll duel Hracken myself ?til then.?

Aldridge followed the fox across the ground to a somewhat-familiar rat.

?Silas Hetherton,? Hapley said. ?Aldridge Moor.?

The rat tilted his head to the side. ?The one who killed the Highlander??

?Aye. He serves his punishment now, and part of that punishment is training. Nire says he has horde history, and that could be helpful for you. I suggest you make use of him.?

The rat nodded as Hapley strode away.

?I heard about your fight,? Aldridge said. ?Taking on a sand-snake and winning - very well done.?

?Mmm.? Uncertainty, in the rat?s eyes.

?What would you like to do? Talk first, then spar??

?You see faults already?? Some combination of irritation and resignation.

?Not quite.? Aldridge gestured to the rat?s paws. ?You?ve been given two of the same weapon. Most beasts get to pick two to take into the Arena proper, and most will take something heavy and something light, or a blade and a shield, or something middling and something to throw. You?ve been afforded no choice and no variety, which puts you at a disadvantage.?

?That part I?d worked out already.?

?Good. Nonetheless, we?ll have to find a way around it. For now, though - shall we?? Aldridge took up the same fighting stance he?d used with Hracken.

The rat nodded, and took up his own. His back knee was locked and his front footpaw not as far forward as it should have been. Aldridge stored that knowledge for now. Too many criticisms off the bat and any fighter would become discouraged - and that was even truer for a green beast like this one.

Silas did not move. He held what Aldridge remembered to be a fairly traditional two-weapon pose - left paw holding one sickle-sword close across his torso, right paw holding the other further out.

Aldridge stepped in, aimed a thrusting blow direct into the rat?s chest.

Silas brought both weapons to bear, crossing them against each other and using the cross to catch the Marl blade and push it up and away.

He realised his mistake as all three weapons continued sliding up into the air and Aldridge bounced his off-paw off the rat?s belly.

Aldridge stepped back, nodded. ?The lesson??

Silas closed his eyes, let the words out somewhere around frustration. ?Don?t put everything into blocking.?

?Aye.?

They stood ready for another bout. The rat deflected Aldridge?s first few strikes with one sickle-sword each time, but he did not take advantage of any openings.

?Now at half-speed,? Aldridge said, bringing another thrusting blow to bear but moving much slower this time.

Silas adjusted immediately to match Aldridge?s slowed movement. He brought his left-paw sickle-sword up and pushed the Marl knife to the side with it.

Aldridge stopped moving, and Silas did the same.

?Good. You?re reacting when I change the game. That means you can think on your feet, which is to your advantage. Now I want you to step back, and look at what?s happening to me at the moment.?

The rat blinked, but disengaged. ?I?m? not entirely sure what I?m looking for.?

?Not to worry. I?ll tell you that I?m overextended, and that there is an opening to strike back at me. Can you see why?? Aldridge stayed in place, even as other beasts caught sight of him and started to snigger. That was fine. Let them remember the idiot with the spoon, standing like some absurd statue. Perhaps it would help them to forget the murderer.

Komi and Minerva were among them. The otter had her head tilted in apparent confusion, but Komi had the beginnings of a smile on her lips - still weighed down by worried eyes.

Silas did not speak for a little while. He stepped around Aldridge, muttering under his breath, and then moved back into his duelling position, bringing his weapons back to where they had been when he?d stepped back to work out his next action.

?I see it,? the rat said. ?Your right paw is too far forward, and I?ve pushed it toward your left side. So that means your entire right side is defenceless at the moment.?

?Exactly.? Aldridge grinned at him. ?Now you have to strike accordingly.?

Silas hesitated.

?None of this is personal,? Aldridge looked into his eye. ?Remember that. Look around - friendship still exists here, even though some of us will die at others? paws before this is all said and done. And everybeast here will fight for themselves, and will expect you to do the same, and will accept it if you win. Now - strike.?

The rat?s eyes narrowed, and he surged back into movement. Aldridge finished the thrust he?d held unfinished for so long, and the rat?s right-paw sickle-sword bounced hard off his side.

Aldridge did not allow himself to grunt. The rat might still hold back if he saw evidence of the pain he?d caused.

?Shall we carry on??

Silas nodded.

---

Every part of him ached as he finally pushed open the door to the bowyer?s workshop. Foxglove Aera had been working hard; there were ten rough-started bows waiting on his table, and a gross or more of perfectly straight arrows waiting to be fletched on hers.

She looked up from where she sat at the fletchers table and pinned him with a glare.

?What in Hellgates happened??

Aldridge sighed and shut the door behind him. ?I made a terrible mistake. Now I pay for it. That?s all.?

?I?m not a kit, Uncle Alder. Don?t feed me their candied words,? she bristled.

?What am I supposed to say?? Aldridge fell into his own chair, scowled at the ceiling. ?That I snapped, and murdered a beast who didn?t deserve it? Do you want the thoughts running through my head as I brought him down? Because those aren?t fit for any civilised beast, let alone an adolescent.?

?More of us understand than you might think.?

Aldridge looked at her, and remembered. Her raising her fists as she stood in front of the rest, playing up her two kills. Snapping at the beast who put her shackles on, making him jump. And just a few seasons ago, the triumphant snarl twisting her face as Ulrich confessed to the village his impassioned slaughter of a ferret slaver.

?I?m sorry. I keep forgetting, don?t I??

?That you?re not alone? Aye. I can?t tell you how many times Mother?s come home over the seasons, scolding you under her breath for trying to carry everything on your own damn shoulders.? She glared.

Aldridge chuckled. ?I?ve no doubt. Without your mother I would be nothing but a drunken wandering handybeast.? His voice dropped. ?I owe her everything.?

?Aye, and more.?

He nodded, rolled his shoulders, trying vainly to loosen them up.

?Nire?s been sending guards down for measurements and practice,? Young Aera said. ?They?re not bad students, most of them, though one or two needed to be reminded of my record before they got in line. Those ten rough-cuts are all to size for the guards who show promise, and I?m just about managing to make arrows as quick as they break them.?

Aldridge looked over the rough-cuts and set them aside. ?Good work.?

Three sharp raps on the door.

Apprentice Bowyer Aera answered it, and there was Adeen, holding a wooden board arraigned with crockery.

?I?m here to speak with Aldridge.? A statement of fact.

She strode past the young mouse, to a small square table sitting beneath the window that looked out over the target range. Leaned down, swept the table clean with her forearm. Set down the board and beckoned Aldridge over.

On the board, a metal scaffold of sorts suspended a white and red teapot over a flickering candle stub. There were two teacups, one fired ceramic on a white and pink saucer, one a distinct blue and white design on a dark green saucer.

Every item of the set was cracked or chipped.

Adeen hauled a small stool over to the table. Aldridge?s larger pine chair presented a rather greater challenge to the vole.

Aldridge heaved it to the other side of the table, his shoulders and back bellowing at him the whole way.

Apprentice Bowyer Aera stood in the doorway, regarding them both for a moment. ?I?ve a beast to go see about feathers. Says he has a sustainable supply. Asked to meet me in the Winners? Lounge. I shan?t be back for, oh, at least an hour.?

It was a poor excuse, but Aldridge was grateful for it.

Aera closed the door behind her.

Adeen was already pouring the tea, and he found himself sitting.

?All from the mortuary?? He gestured to the crockery set.

She nodded, lips pursed in concentration as she finished pouring his cup and seated the teapot back in its metal cradle.

?All washed,? she said. ?Twice.?

He picked up his cup and saucer, examined the blue patterning. Trees, beasts, roads and clouds all roamed between the scuffs and chips. ?This one?s travelled a long way to be here. You came from Bastion, you said??

?I did not say.?

?I suppose not.? The Black Widow of Bastion. Aldridge cursed himself for reminding her, continued speaking to mask the mistake. ?Take the journey here from Bastion and conduct it twice more, straight through Southsward to the Rapscallion realm. I last saw a design like this at market in that place, fresh spoils of far-off war brought to port to be sold as trophies to the ruling class, and to those who fancied themselves part of the ruling class.?

He blew across the surface of the tea, took a sip. But she did not speak, and he felt the compulsion to fight back the silence.

?Lovely blend.?

Adeen took a sip. "Your Apothecary makes the most of this place. He has a sample of every spice and herb that Northvale offers. He said this leaf was cultivated by wildcats a hundred seasons ago, with citrus for taste."

?That sounds like Ennis. He likely has every remedy and poi-?

?Do you always speak in nothings??

A wash of cold, followed by a burst of recklessness. ?Only when I can?t bring myself to speak anything else.?

She stared at him, and he met her gaze. Every impulse was screaming - dissemble, run, hide, disappear. But he knew that to capitulate would be to fail her and so he fought them all, even as she spoke again.

?When did you wake??

It wasn?t Adeen asking. Nor was it the Black Widow of Bastion. The nameless beast beneath them both spoke to him from somewhere between the vole and the villain, eyes clear as cloudless night.

?Too late,? he said.

She nodded. ?He had already passed.?

Another statement of fact.

?In the heat of summer in the far south, the grass bakes dry. So dry that fire, when it comes, moves faster than pawstep. Beasts and cottages alike are all burned. Standing there, looking down at him? I once saw a whole village turned to char by chance disaster. His body somehow felt the same.?

She set her teacup down.

?Aera said you stabbed him nine times.?

They say the Widow cut her husband two-score times and took her teeth to his throat when that wasn?t enough for her liking?

?I wonder how many more that will be, this time next week.? Aldridge drained his teacup. It shook in his grip as he set it down.

Adeen did not say anything.

He breathed. ?I do remember it,? he said. ?Through fog. All that bombast, that righteousness, that utter sightless persistence. It had to be destroyed, and I destroyed it. Nothing that a night in the drunk tank wouldn?t have fixed, and I killed him for it.?

?And you believe that.?

?Would he have kept making vermin lives hell? Insisting on only fighting vermin in the Arena? I?m sure he would. But then and there, his anger with me? That came from the flagon as much as from him.?

?I?m sure.? She refilled his teacup, looked up at him again. ?Nire has you taking the rabbit?s place??

?Aye.?

She settled back onto the stool. ?You will have to take more lives.?

He could only nod. He picked up his teacup, blew away the massing steam, waited for the inevitable question.





?Are you capable of that??