Liars and Thieves (A Company of Liars short story) by Karen Maitland Read Free Book Online

your missing friend and not
a
foreigner
after all. Perhaps your husband wishes to apologise.’
    Dye laughed, but whether it was at the idea that Pecker was her husband or that he would ever apologise was hard to say, for at that moment Pecker crawled back out of the bothy, and the look of fury on his face was enough to strangle any laughter at birth.
    Rage and rail as Pecker might and did, it was not going make the thief return. He insisted we cast around to see if there was a trail of footprints which might show the direction Jack had taken. None of us were inclined to help Pecker but, given his foul mood, he might easily have knifed one of us if we didn’t at least appear to be searching. Besides, if we could send him off in pursuit of Jack, we could recover our property and slip away, maybe with a few additional supplies into the bargain. Is it stealing to take what a thief has stolen? The plunder could hardly be returned to its dead owners.
    But the ground immediately around the camp had been well trodden and beyond it the earth was so sodden after months of rain that water simply lay in great pools on top of the ground which, like an over-fed baby, had refused to swallow another drop and was burping up what it had already drunk.
    I thought we might have more luck looking for signs that someone had brushed against trees, breaking twigs or snagging clothing on them in the dark. I was scanning the undergrowth and not paying much attention to where I was walking. I took a step forward and had to fling myself backwards as the ground vanished beneath my foot. I sprawled in the mud, clenching my jaw against the searing pain in my shoulder.
    I was lying on the edge of a deep pit, about five yards broad and long, half-filled with muddy water as thick and stinking as mouldering soup. I dragged myself painfully back from the edge, not daring to stand up until I was away from the lip, for fear the sodden ground would collapse beneath me. As I clambered to my feet, I saw that something was floating below me in the near corner which had been hidden from my view.
    A naked human corpse lay just beneath the surface, the opaque eyes staring sightlessly up from its swollen features, the boated belly protruding just above the grey-green water. But there was something else, something caught on the floating corpse. It was a second body, this one clothed in a ragged brown cloak which fanned out over him, like the hair of a grotesque mermaid. It was floating face-down, a dagger protruding from between its shoulder blades.
    There was no way to remove Holy Jack’s corpse from the gullet, for the pit was so deep that in spite of the rain, the water level was still twice a man’s height below the edge. If Jack’s body had not been caught on one of the gas-bloated corpses, it would have sunk in the suppurating liquid and we would never have known he was dead. Not even Pecker could remember how many corpses lay rotting down there. Pecker and Dye were certain it was Jack’s own dagger protruding from his back. The question was – who had plunged it in there?
    As soon as she saw the body floating in the pit, Dye flew at Pecker, pounding him with her fists and scratching at his face.
    ‘What did you have to kill him for? He’s been a good friend to us, the best!’
    Pecker caught her wrists, shoving her away. ‘I never touched him. Been looking for him, haven’t I? Why would I do that if I’d known he was in there?’
    Dye glared at him sullenly. It was plain she didn’t believe him, nor, judging by their baleful looks, did the rest of our little company. But I wondered. Pecker had seemed as genuinely shocked as the rest of us when he saw Holy Jack’s body in the water. He had killed a great many men, but perhaps this was one murder of which he was innocent.
    But if Pecker hadn’t killed him in a fit of jealously, who had? No one else had a reason to, unless Jack had stolen the stone and now someone had stolen it from him. Weasel? He was