Rat Song

Chapter 16

William thrashed against the person who had grabbed him. He had to escape before they forced a rat into him. Had to get home. Had to—

"Quiet!" a voice hissed in his ear. "Do you want the guardsmen to find you?"

William stopped struggling, though his breaths still came hard and fast as the hand pressed against his mouth. His legs burned from the exertion of running through the market, his muscles throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Working in the forge had gifted him with well-muscled arms, but nothing had prepared him for the guardsmen giving chase. Unlike the children whose shorter legs had slowed them down, the guardsmen had faced no such obstacles as they'd followed him through Aerzen. Only this stranger's intervention had spared him.

Aerzen's forge filled the alleyway with the steady clanging of a hammer striking an anvil and a constant stream of smoke. William's throat burned as he suppressed a cough. The hand covering his mouth lessened its pressure, and the voice next to his ear lowered to the faintest whisper. "They won't see us if we stay by the wall. Follow my lead."

They backed up until the heat of the forge sent sweat running down William's forehead. The boy standing behind him bore the worst of the heat, with his heart hammering against William's back as they pressed against the wall.

It was then William realized they were trapped. Stone walls towered over both sides of the alleyway, with the other end blocked off by the broken remains of an abandoned wagon. The only way out was back into the market, where the guardsmen would eagerly snatch him up and deliver him to the Piper.

"Take it easy." Only when the boy brushed away his tears did William realize he'd started crying. "We'll get through this. I just need you to be quiet for a little longer, alright?"

William blinked back his tears. Nodded. One thing had remained true throughout his life: he had to stay strong for Emma's sake.

Maroon uniforms flashed by the alleyway's entrance. Paused. One of the guardsmen wiped at his face, coughing as the forge's smoke filled the air.

William's lungs burned in sympathy, but even as his eyes watered against the fumes, he refused to react. Like when Father's temper was running high, one ill-timed twitch could be the difference between escaping unscathed and a world of pain.

The boy held William close. His grip was firm, yet, unlike Father's, there was a degree of care to it. This was not the firmness of someone who would shove him before the guardsmen if it meant he could save his own life but that of someone who wished to offer him reassurance.

At last, the guardsmen's heavy footsteps faded into the distance.

After enough time passed for William's breathing to fall into a regular rhythm no longer labored by the chase through the market, the boy loosened his hold on his mouth. "I'm going to check if they're still nearby," he whispered. "I need you to stay quiet. Nod if you understand."

William nodded.

The boy removed his hand from William's mouth and sidled along the wall of the forge, keeping his back firmly pressed against the stone. Now that he'd had a proper look at him, William couldn't help noticing how haggard the boy looked. His clothes hung from his shoulders in tatters, and a layer of grime covered every inch of him. Yet, despite his bony frame, the boy moved with all the nimble sure-footedness of a cat hunting mice in the fields.

He paused at the mouth of the alleyway, crouched and ready to run. None of the townsfolk paid him any mind as he peered through the crowd, turning his head this way and that.