Konrad bounded down the hillside, lost in the blissful freedom of having two working legs for the first time in his life. Spirit didn’t have to steady him any more and she leapt into the shadows, disappearing from view and jumping back out at Konrad as he flew by.

“Spirit it’s amazing, can you believe it?”

She licked his face and nuzzled into his neck.

“It’s like being whole again,” he said, reaching out to touch his leg. “Although I can’t say I’m not sad about missing out on Avram’s gift.”

Spirit barked and disappeared into the night.

“I guess it’ll help to keep you safe.”

On the small rise above the town Konrad stopped breathless and flopped onto the grass. A large fire was burning in the village square and he watched people dancing and enjoying the celebration. How would they react?

He hoped Alice would be impressed, and Clayton would certainly leave him alone now. His father would be happy Konrad couldn’t embarrass him any more. His mother would be sad, but this wouldn’t be like Otto, he could come home when he liked. He didn’t have to give up his family.

Konrad eyed the two roads into the town. The dusty rutted lane for the Clods and the cobbled street of the citizens. His newfound confidence surged in his chest and marched down towards the citizens street.

“I’m a champion now.”

His heart was beating his chest like a drum but he held his head high. The cruel voice of Clayton Reed was in his ears and it spurred him on, but he quickly realised that the voice wasn’t a memory. It was real, and quickly turned to angry shouting.

“Oi Clod, what’re you doing here?”

Spirit was next to him and he automatically placed his hand on her to steady himself.

“I said what’re you doing here Clod?”

Konrad’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t answer and he sped up, trying to reach the village square.

The rumble of voices behind him was like the buzzing of an angry beehive and a bottle sailed out of the darkness and smashed on the cobbles at his feet.

Konrad ran.

“Get him, get him!” came the cries.

There was a faint whistling noise and a second bottle sailed out of the darkness and hit him on the back of the head. Unlike the first one this bottle was full and it didn’t break, the force of it took him to the ground and he tumbled over and over, hearing a sharp crack and a spasm of pain in his arm.

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He lifted his face out of the dust just in time to see the boot land squarely in his stomach.

“Spirit,” he groaned, hearing her barks close by.

“Get the dog, where did it go?”

“It’s there! Get it. ARGH. It bloody bit me.”

Fists and boots rained down on Konrad and for the second time in his short career as a champion, he slipped away into unconsciousness.

* * *

The metallic taste of blood was in Konrad’s mouth and there was a searing pain in his head as his senses began to return one by one. He was laying on a rough wooden surface, and he could hear a muttered conversation nearby.

“— I know him, he’s the Clod boy with the funny leg. I know it cause of that damn dog. It bit Sam’s ear off, you know that?” Clayton Reed whined.

“Well he’s got a fine set of legs on him now so how did that happen eh?” replied Daniel Reed.

“Something dark da, did you see that dog move? Sam said it was like a bloody demon.”

“Well Sam’s half pissed and missing an ear, so I’m not going to take that into much account am I? You get out there and you track down that dog, and call that bloody Clod, what's-his-name, the old one, and you get him over here now,” Reed instructed.

Heavy footsteps approached and Konrad lay still, a hand roughly opened his eye lids and the ruddy face of Daniel Reed swam into view.

“You’re awake then are you Clod?”

The way he pronounced Clod was the same way he would describe something particularly nasty that he found on the bottom of his shoe.

“What were you doing on the citizen's street?”

Konrad sat up and nearly passed out again from the pain in his broken arm. They hadn’t even bothered to put a splint on it and it hung limply from his side. He tried to speak but his tongue was swollen in his mouth and instead he made a strangled noise and a line of spittle and blood leaked out and dropped on to the floor.

Before Reed could speak the door banged open and Fra Dun stood there, his thin rib cage heaving as he fought for breath, he must have run all of the way from the village.

“Mister Reed,” Dun said, his eyes cast to the wooden floor. “I came as soon as I could.”

Reed pointed to Konrad. “Is this one of yours?”

“Yes Mister Reed, he is.”

“He was on the citizen's street.”

“He’s injured, perhaps he went there for aid? If there is a threat to life a Clod is permitted to seek shelter in the citizen's quarters.”

There was a pause in which Konrad held his breath and Reed took one heavy step towards the frail old man.

“He wasn’t injured before he got there, he was beaten Dun, because he went where he shouldn't have done. He's been punished for thinking that he could walk where his betters walk.”

“My apologies, as he has been most thoroughly punished I will remove him from your sight.”

There was a tension in the air as the old man stood meekly at the door with his eyes glued to the floor, little more than a skeleton covered in skin. It seemed impossible, but Konrad was sure that he was watching Fra Dun stand his ground to Reed.

Reed balled his hands into fists and Konrad held his breath, wondering if Reed’s fist might actually be able to punch right through the old man's bony chest.

“Get him out of my sight.”

Dun shuffled into the room, his wooden clogs clunking on the floor.

“Come with me lad,” he said quietly, “I’ll take you home.”

Konrad tried to speak, he wanted to tell Dun about his leg and that he shouldn’t be alarmed. That it wasn’t witchcraft or some dark Faelen magic. But all that came out was the same thick mumble.

“Don’t try to speak, let’s just go,” Dun said.

They had just reached the doorway when Reed spoke. “Someone said that boy had a busted leg.”

Dun stopped briefly, supporting Konrad’s weight, but didn’t turn around.

“They must’ve been thinking about someone else, goodnight Mister Reed.”

Reed didn’t respond and Konrad stumbled into the night, his good arm around the shoulders of the Fra Dun.

“I’m the one with the busted leg,” Konrad said thickly. “It’s me, Konrad.”

“I am sure that you have an interesting story to tell Konrad, but first we must get you home, your parents are concerned for you, we all are.”