Snake Eyes

I clapped him on the shoulder and snatched my hand away before it became too soiled. We reached the lodge and it was deserted. I assumed Velvet had gone home ahead of me to prepare the supper. I bid Leopold goodnight and sauntered home amid long shadows of a bright evening. It was still hot enough to make me sweat and I knew that none of us would sleep deeply that night, especially Leopold, who had the topmost portion of an underworld employee right in the middle of his house. I couldn’t help smiling at that. What a stroke of genius it had been to insist he act as the demon’s guardian.

I walked through the front door of my croft into an almost cool atmosphere. The shutters had been closed all day to keep out the sun and allow the breeze to pass through. I sighed with pleasure at the relative comfort it brought, knowing that as soon as I became used to it I would feel hot all over again. The croft was silent.

“Velvet?”

I walked through the entryway into the main room where the kitchen and dining and sleeping areas were. It was quiet. No pots rattling, no hissing of escaping steam. I opened the back door to see if she was in the garden and tripped over a hen that had been pecking at the boards of the porch in a brainless bid for nourishment. When I kicked it, it flapped in shock, gaining enough air for a moment that my booted foot sent it, clucking and yodeling, far into the garden where it crashed into the corn and disappeared.

“Stupid bird. Velvet? You out here?”

Mary the goat, tethered out of reach of the crops, ignored me.

As I walked back into the shade of the house, Velvet bustled in through the front door.

“Everything all right, Velvet?”

“Oh, yes. Right finely, thanks.”

“I thought you’d gone before me.”

“No, I was just having a gossip with some of the ladies.”

“That’s not like you.”

“No, it isn’t. I don’t hang around with them long enough usually, but it was hard to avoid today.”

“Find out any meaty details?”

“Maybe. Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious, I suppose, but you’re welcome to keep it to yourself. I’ve got enough to keep my mind occupied as it is. I don’t suppose you managed to find out the general feelings of the villagers to the demon, did you? I mean, are they frightened? Do you think they’ll panic? We may have to call out the militia whether we want to or not; and not to deal with the demon but to keep the peace. What do you think?”

“They are scared. But they seem to have a lot of faith in you and Leopold to set things right. A lot of them still want to eat it.”

I smirked, only half amused.

“Hardly surprising really. We’ve got enough water to drink in the well, but not enough to ensure that the crops and beasts survive until the harvest. Hunger does strange things to people.”

Velvet smiled.

“I’m well aware of that. Now, what do you want for your supper?”

“Is there a choice?”

“Not exactly.”

I chose the simplest, easiest, most likely to be available option.

“What about a corn cake or two with and egg on top?”

“Fine. Only there’s no eggs.”

“No eggs?”

“They haven’t been laying. I think it’s the heat.”

“Not laying? Useless bloody chickens. I need a drink.”

I descended into the tiny cellar and poured myself an ale. I drank it right down in the near total darkness, filled the cup again and brought it back up the ladder with me. Sitting in the corner, I cracked the shutters to let a shaft of evening sunlight in and opened the Ledger to the section on demons. The section seemed longer and more in depth than it had when I’d first looked demons up, but that didn’t surprise me. The Ledger was an unusual book, adding to itself constantly. All Men of Law are issued with a Ledger at graduation. It’s not the kind of thing you would want to fall into the hands of, say, a local priest.

Supper came and went without conversation—I read the Ledger at the table and then took it back to my reading chair. Velvet was very attentive to my ale cup for which I was thankful. However, by the time I’d read all I needed to know, getting to bed was somewhat of a struggle. I vaguely remember hoping my head would be clear by morning.

The Demon’s Club

I awoke in blackness to the sound of insistent but subdued thumping. At first I thought I was having some order of palpitation, brought on by a nightmare. It was almost a relief to realise that the sound was coming from outside my body. Someone was at the front door. Then followed the realisation that people only ever wake you up in the night for bad news or rutting and, as it wasn’t Velvet making the noise, I had to anticipate the unhappier option.

“Get that would you, my sweet. My head’s as thick as bison dung.”

Velvet didn’t answer.