Pepper was the first to actually begin crying, surprisingly. He whimpered quietly while he gave Androkles a look of abandonment that burned him to the core. Then seeing that Androkles was looking at him, Pepper pleaded, “Please don’t go. You can’t! We won’t have anyone left!”

Flower said, “I can get strong, Master Androkles. You’ll be proud of me. Please don’t go. Don’t leave me behind like my last family!” He gritted his teeth, same look in his eyes that Pepper had.

Androkles stopped shoveling for a moment. He had to clear his throat and concentrate on speaking evenly. “Boys, I’m not abandoning you. I’m giving you what you deserve: a good home. You both deserve better than me. I can’t take care of you. Not really. I’m just not that kind of person. Someday, you’ll understand that, I hope. But this isn’t because either of you are bad,” and here, he had to pause to keep his voice from breaking as a lump nearly overtook his throat. “You boys are sweet and honorable, more than anyone could ask for. It’s because I made an oath, and that’s the only reason.”

Androkles emptied the pot, oil, and coins together, into the hole. Then he filled it back in, taking care to make the ground look even and doing his best to disguise his digging, while the kits sniffed and whimpered quietly, tightly holding hands. In just their loincloths, they looked so frail, still just skin, bones, and furry ears. Small and fragile and pathetic. They wound their tails more tightly together.

Once the hole was finished, he gave them a tight hug, which they returned with feeling, kissing him on the cheek several times each. He found it hard to bear. He took their hands and led them back around to the cart, where he grabbed a couple figs for them to eat.

Then he had an idea. “I’m not leaving yet. We have some time. Grab your slings, boys,” he said, taking his from the hut. They obliged, and he led them outside north gate again.

“I need to teach you how to really use these things, I think,” he said.

For the next hour, he demonstrated proper slinging technique and each of the three popular methods, explaining their advantages and disadvantages in hunting and combat. He carefully watched their form, moving their joints into proper position to make sure they learned properly. For a while, they were able to enjoy themselves. Pepper, in particular, turned out to be an apt learner, usually getting fairly close to what he was aiming at. Flower had no aptitude for it, although he didn’t lack enthusiasm.

If he’d ever had boys, he figured this was the kind of thing he’s spend time doing with them, but, well, he wasn’t going to think about that. Teaching slinging was a good way to give them a skill they could handle. Every shepherd had to be good at it, and it let you hunt in a pinch, or possibly even fight if you had to. A good slinger was welcomed in any army. He didn’t have time to teach them everything they should know, but he could teach them this.

The evening passed like the previous one, with food and beer passed around freely, and music, and cordial feelings. It was more subdued than it had been the previous night, though; Androkles overheard people discussing his killing intent, wondering what it had been. Some feared it was an evil spirit passing by, or the displeasure of the goddess. He felt no desire to clarify for them, and apparently neither did Kemen, because he kept his mouth shut about it.

After the large choir sang and dissipated again, Androkles asked Flower if he would sing again for him, as something to remember on the road. The kit nodded with seriousness on his face, then found a good rock to stand on. Somehow, a ray of light from the sun found its way to Flower’s head, illuminating his white hair like divinity in a painting. As he sang, his sweet, perfect voice floated over the crowd, many of whom stopped talking and came to listen. First, he sang a song about some gods Androkles didn’t recognize, which sounded like it was for children. He followed it with a song from last night, the one about the lovers who die. Finally, he sang Androkles’s song, the one from yesterday, and the fire several days before.

The kit’s voice carried the words more deeply into Androkles’s heart than usual, and he remembered again all the friends he’d lost in war. His father, who’d abandoned him by killing himself. His mother and sisters. His wife. Now, the boys. All the joy and happiness that was shared, and then was gone forever. That was the meaning of the song, after all; enjoy what you can, because it will all end. It always ended.

When Flower finished, Androkles had tears on his cheeks, even though he gave no other outward sign of his emotion. Pepper noticed, and hugged him again tightly around the waist. Flower hopped down from the rock and came to hug Androkles as well. The kit asked, “Did you like it?”

“I liked it. Very much.”

Kemen found them, with Agurne in tow. She looked as though she had recently washed her face and she wore a clean and tidy tunic with light embroidery around the neck. She even had a comb in her hair to hold it in place. Androkles was a bit surprised, he had to admit, at how different she looked. Aside from a newfound sort of rustic beauty, she looked a decade younger. She gave them a kind smile, with something inscrutable behind it.

Kemen said, “Master Androkles, if it’s alright with you, I think Agurne here will be the best choice to raise your boys. They’ve already met her, and she has room for them. She lost her daughter a couple years ago, and she has plenty of love left to give another child. She and her husband are respected here. He’s out of town on business, but he always wanted sons.”

Androkles looked her over for a moment. She did look capable, with strong arms and legs and a kind face, which carried with it experience and wisdom. He asked, “How will you teach them to be virtuous with a tongue like yours?”

“I’ll use my tongue and my knuckles in equal measure, Master Androkles. I’m strong enough to keep them in line, and I’m quick enough to catch ’em, too,” she answered. That hadn’t been quite what he asked, but it was a good answer.

“Are you quick enough, though? How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-six, you bastard’s bastard.”

That was much younger than he thought at first, but now that she wasn’t caked in dirt, he could see it. He asked, “How will you teach them to be honorable?”

“I never lie, and I won’t abide it in them, either. I’ll make sure they learn to respect the divine and how to be a part of the village. There’s more honor in that than you’d think.”

“Can you teach them courage?” he asked, after a moment of thought.

She put her hands on her hips, looked him square in the eyes, and said, “Yes.” There was something fierce in her gaze that told him all he needed to know. She was honest, amusing, and strong. She would do.

But when he didn’t reply for a moment, she added, “But if you don’t believe me, why don’t you bring out your evil again, and you’ll see just how much courage I can teach them. Go on. Try me.”

Now that he hadn’t expected from her, or anyone. Had Kemen told her what it was, or had she known on her own somehow?

She dared him again, her voice challenging and bold. “Go on. Bring out that darkness you keep locked away, and see if I don’t flinch. I’ll show you strength a coward like Kemen could never dream of. I’ll show you some courage right pissing now.”

“In front of the kits? And everyone?”

“What, you worried they’ll see you as you are?”

“Are you going to clean them up when they shit themselves?” he asked, not really joking.

“Yes.”

Flower and Pepper had loosened their grip on Androkles, unsure what was about to happen, but it was clear from the tone of the conversation that it wouldn’t be pleasant. They started stepping back to get a better look at him. He pushed them away and said, “Stand back.” Not that it would help.

He looked at Agurne, and even though he knew this was a bad idea, she had truly intrigued him. No one had ever asked him to do this voluntarily, except a few times to train new recruits, and even that had been rare. To be terrified of your fellows in arms was not good for cohesion. She was the first, and a woman; a barbarian one, no less.

“Very well,” he said. She dug in her heels.

With his feet firmly planted in the dirt, he put his hands on his hips and furrowed his brow into a glare. Then, with a burst of willpower he brought out a powerful killing intent, a fierce one, bitter and sharp. It had all of his regret in it, all of his injustice, and this time it was powerful enough to make waves in the air. It was rage itself made manifest, and it was strong.

Androkles could feel the grass wither beneath his feet. Kemen lost his balance and fell over, gasping. The kits were shocked at first, then quickly shrieked in terror, clutching each other and collapsing to the ground, cowering and hiding their heads. Almost everyone in the village, it seemed, was immediately paralyzed with fear, with only a few able to flee in terror, unsure what was happening.

And she faced him, unflinching, undaunted, determination in her eyes. He could see her pulse quicken from the veins in her temples, and her breathing grew a bit heavier, but she did not waver from looking him directly in the eyes, hands on her hips.

A strange feeling came over Androkles, and he gave his all to strengthening his killing intent even further; stronger than he could remember ever trying before. He suspected it would be enough to kill insects and small animals at this point. The air around him distorted like a disturbed pool of water. This woman, this Agurne, would take care of the boys for him. She was strong. She could do what he could not. And so he pushed her as far as he could.

And she did not waver. She did not flinch. At the very moment when Androkles’s killing intent was at its peak, every ounce of power he had pressuring her with wave after wave of fury, she opened her mouth and asked, quietly but not weakly, “Is that it?”

He knew he was defeated. He let it drop at once. After taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he said, “Yes. That’s it. And thank you. Now I know they’ll be safe. And … that truly means something to me.” His eyes grew misty, although he didn’t dare wipe them.

Androkles knelt where the boys huddled gasping on the ground and stroked their heads. “Boys, it’s alright. You’ll be fine now. Come on, sit up. Do you feel okay?”

They slowly sat up, as though awakening from a stupor. They shook their heads, somewhat bewildered, and looked at him with plain terror on their faces. Androkles took their hands to help them up, but they remained sitting, looking at him. Flower pulled his hand away and asked, “What happened?”

Androkles thought about how to respond, while Pepper pulled Flower closer, both of them looking at him, unsure what to think. Finally he said, “What happened is that Agurne here showed me how strong she is. Look around—she’s the only person standing. She is your mother now, and she’s stronger that most fighting men I’ve met. She’s strong enough to keep you safe. You do what she says, and she’ll help you become men.”

Kemen stood slowly and dusted himself off, looking ashamed. Everyone in the village, it seemed, was holding someone close and looking in his direction. Agurne took the boys’ hands and helped them to their feet.

Androkles said, after a moment of deliberation, “It might be best if you take them now. I’ll leave early in the morning. No need to stretch out saying goodbye.”

Agurne nodded and said, “I understand.”

Androkles, feeling drained, looked at the boys and said, “I was a man who came into your lives for a week. I saved you and delivered you into a good home, and then I left. Do not dwell on it. Now, goodbye, Pepper. Goodbye, Flower. Grow up to be good men.” They still seemed a bit shaken, and they didn’t respond, so he turned and left without looking back. Once he had gone a few paces, he heard them start crying. They shouted “Goodbye!” almost in unison, then cried louder than before. And then their crying was muffled, no doubt by Agurne burying their heads in her ample chest.

Androkles blinked away dust and cursed how foolish he had been, allowing himself to grow fond while knowing it would end. Everyone ducked out of his way as he walked back to the empty hut, and he paid them no attention.

He slept fitfully that night and woke just as the sky started to lighten, long before the sun arose. He rummaged through the cart and gathered some things he thought would be useful—the sparker, some food, his shield, Pansy’s knife, and so on, and emptied the bag of beans, which had only been half full anyway, into other containers. Once he put everything he thought he needed in the bag, he strapped on his shield and xiphos and left out the north gate, toward the big city. He did not give the village a final glance.