Book 2: Chapter 80: Brotherly Love

Name:Heretical Fishing Author:
Book 2: Chapter 80: Brotherly Love

Beneath the pink and orange sunset of a beautiful winter’s day, two brothers stumbled arm in arm along a seldom-traveled dirt road.

“We’d better get back to the farm,” David slurred as they both wobbled.

“Aye.” Trevor upended his bottle, taking a deep swig. He sighed with the burn that ran down his throat, warming him from the core. “Da will tan our hides if he learns we been out drinking all day instead of working.”

A few seasons back, things had kicked off between their home village of Cedar, and those bog-water drinkers over at Bengal Village. As a result, the brothers hadn’t been able to buy any of Bengal’s moonshine for most of the year. So, when a merchant had come through with some of the swill—and speaking all proper like, so they knew he wasn’t a Bengalian in disguise—they’d bought as much as they could afford.

“Say what you will about those goatherders over in Bengal, they sure know how to make a damned good brew.” Trevor tipped the glass bottle up, his eyebrow furrowing when none came out. He shook it, a scowl deepening when only a few drops fell onto his tongue. He turned to glare at his brother. “You drank the last of it, David, you bastard?”

“Me?” David reeled back from his brother, indignant and swaying. “You’re holding the damned bottle!”

“Aye! Which makes it even worse! Ye drank the last of it right out from under me, you poxy son of a goat.”

“Oi, oi, oi. You leave my mother out of...” David hiccuped, a flushed grin coming to his face. “We have the same parents. You just called yourself a son of a goat..”

Swaying without a shoulder to lean on, Trevor pointed the now-empty bottle at his brother’s thieving, mother-besmirching face. “You take that back.”

With the dexterity of a dehydrated man that had been day-drinking moonshine for the last eight hours, David backhanded his brother. Well, he tried to, anyway. By some miracle, he managed to smack the swaying bottle extended toward him. It made a dull tink as his knuckles collided with it, sending it sailing into the treeline. Both wobbling violently, their heads spun to follow its trajectory.

“You ungrateful, mother-insulting toad lick—”

Trevor cut off as a streak of colors shot past them, traveling east to west along the road. The speed of it was incredible. They both turned, intending on seeing what it was, but there was nothing there.Updated chapters at novelhall.com

“What in—”

A wall of wind slammed into their backs. If they had been sober, perhaps they could have withstood it. Instead, they fell like long-dead trees in a hurricane, landing in a tangle of limbs as dust sprayed over them. Both brothers slowly climbed to all fours, spitting dust.

Trevor, locking eyes with his brother, chortled. “You look like you been tilling the soil with your teeth!”

“Yeah?” David got to his knees. “Well, you look like you been shovelin’ dirt with your head!”

Both pairs of eyes narrowed, a lip curled, and they burst into laughter.

“That damned bog-swill is some good stuff,” David said, finally making it upright and holding a hand to his brother.

“Aye,” Trevor agreed, using the offered hand to pull himself upright. “We’ll have to get some more soon. Might not be so bad dealing with them bog-water drinkers if we can get more bottles...”

Shoulder to shoulder and their spirits as high as the clouds above, the brothers stumbled back toward their village.

***

Watching the two men go, Maria, Borks, and I shared a smile.

We waited until they were far away before hopping down from the tree. After accidentally sprinting past them at cultivator speed, all three of us had scrambled upward, hiding from sight.

“Phew!” Maria brushed her hands off. “That was close.”

“No kidding. Lucky they were so drunk.”

Maria giggled, covering her mouth. “I’m not so sure how I feel about the church’s trade route being used to facilitate whatever those two were up to.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, looking down the road after them. “I kinda love it. They seem like fun.”

“Should we go say hello?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We probably shouldn’t be seen, but we could trail them. Checking they got home would be the right thing to do...”

She rolled her eyes, smiling at me. “Right. It’s definitely because you want them home safe and not because you’ll get enjoyment out of their banter.” She bent to scratch Borks’s head, who was staring up at us with unconditional love. “Come on, then. Let’s go make sure those farmers make it back to their village.”

She withdrew her pinchy fingers, smiling behind her pout. Borks shoved his head between us, tongue lolling from his panting mouth as he stared up at both of us.

I rubbed Borks’s head. “Let’s see if this lake holds any fish.”

After setting our rods up, I removed the chunk of bait.

“It’s a shame we didn’t find any of the pungent eel over the last couple days,” Maria said, pinching her nose as I removed the ripe eel from its wrappings.

“Yeah. This should be enough to do the trick, though.”

I ran a knife through the eel, cutting off two thin pieces. Maria had a smaller hook on her line so we could target different sized fish at the same time; we had no clue what the lake held. I slipped the baits on each of our hooks, then we stepped forward together.

“After you,” I said, delighting in the look on Maria’s face.

“No. Please.” She ushered me forward. “Ladies first.”

“Oh, such a gentleman!” I replied, batting my eyes.

She giggled, covering her mouth in the way that always made my heart flutter. I cast my line out, aiming right for the middle of the lake. It landed with a satisfying plop, as did Maria’s, just a little closer to shore. Sitting beside each other, with Borks at our feet, we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“Well, this is a bit disappointing...” Maria said, chewing her lip as she stared at the water.

I reeled my line in. It felt heavy, and sure enough, the bait was untouched.

Maria sighed. “I was so excited, too. I guess there’s nothing in this lake?”

“Maybe...” I replied, thinking of something.

“What are you doing?” Maria asked as I cut my tackle off the end of my line.

“Testing a theory...”

I grabbed a sabiki rig, tying it to the end of my rod, then walked down to the water and cast it in. It landed close to shore, making a quiet splash barely heard over the calls of insects. I wound the line in so it was tight.

“You think there are smaller fish here?” she quietly asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Surely there’s something...”

She wrapped an arm around my back, leaning against my torso as we both stared out at the calm lake.

Something tugged at the line.

I inhaled sharply, adrenaline spiking and shattering the calm that Maria’s proximity gave me. I held the line tight, waiting for the bite.

Bump.

Bump.

The fish bit the hook, immediately trying to swim away. It was a small thing, but that didn’t make it any less exciting as I brought the hooks toward the surface. With a smile on my face, I lifted it up out of the water, swiveling so it entered the campfire’s light. The moment I caught sight of it, I froze, blinking at the flailing limbs.

Maria’s hand jolted on my back, gripping onto my shirt.

“... what the frack is that?” she demanded, her voice shrill.