The Glass Swallow

by Julia Golding

  Rain wanted the attention back on her to get Ret out of the line of fire. She held out the mobile. ‘There’s not much left in the city, just bits and pieces no one wants.’

  Krital sat back. ‘I know that.’

  Time for her plea—if he would only have the patience to listen. ‘But do you know what it means? The city is dying, and so is the land around. People are being forced to fight for survival, retreating to protect themselves. Farmers are too afraid to work their land and what little they have is often raided. What will happen when the seed corn is eaten? Where will the next crop come from?’ Rain picked up a piece of flat bread from a platter on the table and crumbled it on to the floor. ‘What will you eat when there’s no more food to steal?’

  Krital shrugged. ‘We’ll be the last to suffer, little foreigner.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that, but you admit that you too will feel the effects eventually?’

  ‘Maybe. But what do you suggest I do about it?’

  She passed him the mobile. ‘Gather what’s left and make something of it.’

  He shook the horse, smiling at the tinkling sound that came from it. ‘Very pretty. But you don’t mean this, do you?’

  ‘No.’ She looked round the room, realizing that everyone was listening to her so she had to get this right. ‘You have, what? Several hundred men?’

  He nodded.

  ‘If you took over the city, you could restore order to the streets. Once people feel secure, they’ll go about their normal lives, growing, making, selling.’

  Krital started to laugh but then sobered. ‘You are serious?’

  ‘Yes. Who else is there?’

  ‘But we are outlaws.’

  ‘When there is no law, how can you be outside it? Isn’t it time you made your own?’ She scanned the faces of those listening. Many bore the signs of a tough life, scars on arms and faces, bitterness in their expressions. Did she really expect them to rise to this challenge? ‘I know you were thrown away before by the authorities, but the people who did that have gone. Why can’t you step into the gap and remake the city as a place where you can live in a lot more comfort than out here? Wouldn’t it be better to earn people’s gratitude than be despised and feared?’

  Krital didn’t appear convinced of that. He passed the mobile to the woman in the jettana’s robe. ‘Hang this in my chamber,’ he ordered. ‘Where I can see it.’ He turned to the guard who had escorted Rain inside. ‘Take our guests to the holding cell.’

  Rain’s hopes took a dive. ‘You’re not going to do it?’

  He arched a brow at her. ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’ve given me something to think about—leave me in peace while I consider what you’ve said.’ He banged his empty cup on the table. ‘More beer!’

  The hubbub resumed as Rain and Ret were led away.

  ‘I think that went well,’ whispered Ret, his eyes darting with curiosity around the boisterous gathering. ‘He was really paying attention.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean he’s going to do what we want the way we want it.’

  ‘Of course not. But him doing something is better than the nothing we’ve had so far, don’t you agree?’

  ‘I hope so. Either that, or we’ve made a terrible mistake coming here.’

  ‘Can you see them?’

  Hidden in the hills above the bandit settlement, Peri peered over a ledge, watching the comings and goings in the camp.

  ‘I think so,’ he said in answer to Mikel’s question. ‘Two short prisoners were led from that big building to that hut over there.’

  ‘Did they look all right?’

  ‘If it’s them, then yes, I’d say they were unharmed. They walked in unassisted.’ He had been relieved by this glimpse of Rain, but it also brought back his anger at her rashness. What had she been thinking to venture into this place of her own accord? He’d already spotted two drunken brawls and seen how tightly the camp was guarded. Getting out of there without losing anyone was going to be very difficult.

  ‘What now?’ asked Conal, slithering on his belly to come up alongside Peri. Sly was a few feet further back, admitting that he didn’t have a head for heights.

  ‘I think two of us should climb down from here and try to get to them. It’s the only route that’s not well guarded.’

  ‘That’s because the slope is nigh impossible to scale,’ Conal observed drily.

  ‘And how will we get them up here?’ asked Mikel. ‘I don’t have a good feeling about this.’

  ‘Nor do I, old friend, but do you have any better suggestions?’

  Mikel shook his head and unfastened his cloak. ‘I’ll go first. At least if I fall, I won’t knock you off.’

  Peri eased back from the edge. ‘I know you want to do this, Mikel, but we stand the best chance if Conal and I are the ones climbing.’ He slipped off his shoes, flexing his toes. ‘I’m sure you know that.’

  Mikel scowled. ‘But I’ve looked after her like a daughter these past months. She’s my girl, my responsibility.’

  ‘I take it we’re going to have to flip a coin as to who gets to tell her off for this madcap adventure of hers? I know: I do the rescuing, you can do the scolding. Do we have a deal?’

  With a little more grumbling, Mikel agreed.

  ‘If things go badly, which is more than likely, I’ll whistle. We’ll try and meet up by the broken bridge. If we don’t make it, go back to the compound and tell them what happened.’

  Conal peered over the edge and gulped. ‘You think there’s a way down?’

  ‘It’s not as steep as it appears.’ Peri let himself drop over the edge, feeling with his bare feet for a ledge. ‘Climbed worse when looking for falcon nests.’

  ‘Bet you had a rope then.’ Conal waited for Peri to make the first few moves successfully before following him, not taking exactly the same route but trying his luck to one side. His feet lost purchase and he found himself hanging by his fingertips briefly before he regained control. ‘I hate this.’

  He continued chanting this as he edged down, cursing the slippery slate for every time it gave way under him. Peri grinned at his vehemence—but only when they were both safely on the ground.

  Keeping low, they crept across the open ground to the little building set on its own. The small windows and heavily barred door made it plain that its purpose was to keep people in rather than let them see out. Peri cursed under his breath: Rain had been lucky she’d been made a prisoner and not had her throat cut on sight—a point he was going to make to her if Mikel didn’t.

  ‘Down!’ whispered Conal, pulling him behind a pile of shale. Three men were approaching the hut. One went inside while the others waited for a moment before retreating back the way they had come.

  ‘Was that Krital?’ wondered Conal.

  ‘I don’t know—couldn’t see him clearly—but Rain and Ret are on their own in there with one of them. Let’s not debate.’

  They scrambled over the open ground separating them from the hut, relying on the darkness to hide them from the patrol guarding the encampment. Breathing heavily, backs flat against the back wall, they paused to draw their weapons. Peri selected an arrow from his quiver and strung his short hunting bow. Having already confronted Krital once, he did not relish the prospect of hand-to-hand combat with someone so much more skilled than him. Conal’s eyes glittered in the moonlight, watching Peri for the signal.

  With a nod, Peri stepped forward to stand in the open doorway.

  Rain and Ret sat side by side on the narrow bunk as Krital paced before them.

  ‘Your idea has legs—I can run with it,’ said Krital. He tugged the velvet skull cap from his short hair and scratched his scalp. ‘It’s true I’ve had enough of being an outlaw: time I got back inside the walls. Better in the city than out here this winter. I take it the boy here knows the layout of the palace buildings?’

  Ret sat up straight, resisting the urge to finger the pendant tucked under his clothes. �
��I do, sir.’

  ‘How bad was it when you left them? Roof still on?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We could probably move everyone in right away then,’ said Krital, thinking aloud. ‘Start by securing the palace then take it from there.’

  Rain was conscious she had set in motion a process over which she had no control but she had to try. ‘When you’ve done that, will you create safe places for the vulnerable ones?’

  Krital looked surprised by the suggestion. ‘Why would I want to do that? I’m not a charity, true? I’m not playing nursemaid to a bunch of women and children.’

  Her wish that he would have a change of heart suffered a blow. ‘No one’s asking you to, just to give them somewhere safe to go. I can make the rest of the arrangements.’

  Krital leaned over her, one arm against the wall behind. ‘You are a continual surprise, little foreigner. You’ve got guts coming here and telling me what to do. You’re getting me thinking things I never thought before.’

  ‘Move away from them!’

  Rain looked up in shock. Peri stood in the doorway, arrow trained on Krital. The bandit leader swore.

  ‘The scavenger! So this is all a trick?’ He seized hold of Rain and pulled her up on to tiptoe. ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s not a trick!’ she protested. ‘I didn’t know he’d followed me. Please, listen!’

  ‘Guard!’ roared Krital.

  ‘Move away from the girl!’ ordered Peri, cold sweat trickling down his back. He’d never shot someone before but if Krital did not let go of Rain, he would.

  Krital dropped Rain and swung round to face Peri, feeling for the dagger he carried in his belt. ‘You’ve made your last mistake, falcon boy,’ he snarled.

  Seeing Krital’s hand move to his blade, Peri loosed his arrow.

  ‘No!’ screamed Rain, surging forward.

  Ret yelled a warning, but too late: Peri’s arrow hit Rain high on the shoulder, knocking her back against Krital. The bandit’s dagger went flying as he caught the girl as she fell. The bandit gave a great roar of fury, but could not retaliate as Rain was slumped in his arms.

  Peri stared in horror at the blood seeping from the wound he had inflicted.

  ‘Peri, they’re coming,’ said Conal. Men were pouring out of the hall, grabbing their weapons from the doorwarden.

  ‘I’ve got to stay,’ Peri said numbly.

  ‘No, you’re leaving—now!’ Conal pulled him firmly from the hut. ‘Ret?’

  ‘I’m staying,’ the boy said without hesitation.

  ‘Good lad. Look after her!’

  Conal dragged Peri back towards the cliff. His shock had mutated into anger: if Peri didn’t do something they were going to get caught by a horde of vengeful bandits. ‘Get a grip, my friend, or we’re both dead!’

  ‘I shot her.’

  ‘Yes, but you don’t know how bad. Dog’s breath, Peri, you’ve got to move! Rain won’t want you dead.’

  This argument made some impact and Peri stopped dragging against Conal’s grip on his jacket.

  ‘I’ll get you out of this,’ Peri vowed.

  ‘You’d better, because they’re not far behind.’

  Peri glanced behind to see the men fanning out through the camp, looking for the intruders. ‘No time to climb,’ he panted. ‘We’ll have to take the quick route out.’ He gave a whistle, the prearranged signal to Mikel and Sly that plans had changed. At the same time, he shifted direction and ran for the entrance to the abandoned mine.

  ‘Quick route?’

  ‘Slate wagon. They had a track on stone runners down the mountainside. It’s probably still working.’

  ‘Probably!’

  The ground underfoot became more treacherous as they approached the old mine. The slag heaps slumped over their path so that they had to wade across them to reach the entrance. A chill breeze emanated from the shaft.

  ‘Couldn’t we just hide in there?’ asked Conal.

  ‘And then what?’ said Peri, pulling off a ragged tarpaulin covering an empty wagon. The wheels looked rusted into place. ‘We’ll be cornered like a fox in a hole—they’ll tear us to pieces when we come out.’

  Conal shuddered. ‘Thanks—I could do without the imagery.’

  ‘Get in. I’ll lever it from the back. Then we press thumbs,’ said Peri, referring to the traditional plea for ‘good luck’.

  Conal didn’t waste time arguing. He knew as well as Peri that they would be incredibly fortunate if the track was still intact. He vaulted inside, landing in three inches of muck and grit. Peri dug through the debris until he found a thick wooden post. Wedging it under the rear wheel, he heaved, cursing as it refused to shift. Inside the wagon, he could feel Conal rocking the car forwards to dislodge it.

  ‘I think it’s moving!’ Conal bumped on to the front wall, making the whole thing shudder.

  Seething with self-hatred for what he had done to Rain, Peri found strength he had not known he possessed. With a final heave, he forced the wheel to turn; the wagon began to creep forward.

  ‘Get in!’ ordered Conal.

  Pushing from the rear, Peri ran a few paces, then jumped on board. With a grinding creak and rattle, the wagon was away, heading down a sharp slope for the valley bottom.

  ‘Next problem is how do we stop this thing?’ asked Peri as they kept low, bracing themselves across the car. Outside, he could hear shouts as men spotted the wagon careering out of the camp.

  ‘No idea.’ Conal gave a mirthless laugh. ‘But I think we’re going to find out one way or another.’

  Peri found he couldn’t rouse himself to care; he felt he had already crashed when he let loose that arrow.

  Shard 14

  Midnight Black

  Ret was profoundly grateful that Rain was unconscious. He ran beside Krital bearing Rain’s bundle as the bandit leader carried her into the hall near the fire and kicked a table over to clear it of the evening meal. His bodyguards set it upright so he could lay her on it.

  ‘Where’s the scholar?’ he shouted.

  ‘Coming, sir,’ answered a reedy voice. A scrawny man with two thin black plaits emerged from the private quarters at a run. He had a quill tucked behind his ear.

  ‘Tutor Nighman!’ exclaimed Ret, recognizing one of his former teachers who had made himself noticeably absent from the palace since the beginning of the troubles.

  ‘Master!’ Nighman tripped over his feet in shock, before bending into a low bow.

  ‘Scholar, stop that rubbish and do something.’ Krital pushed him towards Rain.

  ‘But I’m not a doctor!’

  ‘You’re the closest we’ve got. If you don’t, I’ll practise my surgery on you.’

  With this threat, Nighman’s protests subsided. He huddled over Rain, pulling the collar of her dress away from the wound. ‘I’ll need boiled water—and a knife. What kind of arrow?’

  ‘He had a hunting bow,’ said Krital, waving to one of his guards to fetch the water.

  ‘Peri carries small tipped arrows, for hunting game,’ added Ret.

  ‘Barbed?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Thank the Master,’ Nighman mumbled automatically, before blushing.

  ‘Forget him,’ growled Krital. ‘Save the girl.’

  ‘The arrow went in high—no major organs hit,’ muttered Nighman, speaking his thoughts out loud. ‘If we can ease the head out, then I think the main risk is the wound going bad.’ He peered closer at the entry point, blinking as if trying to see it clearly.

  ‘Where are your glasses?’ whispered Ret.

  ‘Damn things broke. It’s all right: I can see enough.’ Dipping the knife in the boiled water, he gently used the tip to ease the arrow out of the wound. It slipped free, allowing him to staunch the bleeding. ‘Good, good,’ he muttered.

  Rain moaned.

  ‘Oh no, my dear, don’t wake up just yet. I need to see to this. Does anyone have a clean needle and thread?’

  The bandits looked bla
nk but Ret dived into Rain’s bundle, knowing she kept cotton in there. ‘Will this do?’

  Nighman nodded, looking distinctly green. ‘Keep her still. This needs a few stitches, I think, but I’ve only ever read about how to do it.’

  ‘Time to get practical then, scholar,’ bit out Krital.

  The bandit leader braced Rain’s legs while Ret held her head. Nighman took a deep breath. After a few fumblings, he got the idea and managed to sew up the wound and bind it in clean cloths. Rain remained unconscious through the procedure, much to everyone’s relief.

  ‘Unless she’s very unlucky, I think she’ll recover,’ Nighman said when he had finished. ‘Now, Master, if it be your will, please tell me what you are doing here?’

  Ret opened his mouth to answer, but Krital pushed him aside. ‘I’m master here, scholar. Get your patient into bed, then come back to me. We’ve plans to make. We’re taking over the city.’

  Peri flipped on to his back and considered the stars spinning above his head. The wagon had hurtled down the hillside until it collided with a rock left on the track. The consequent jolt had tipped the car sideways and thrown the two passengers out on to the boggy ground at the valley bottom. The mud had cushioned his fall but the water was now soaking through his clothes. He knew he had to move before one of the bandit patrols found him or the men from the camp caught up.

  ‘Conal?’

  A groan from his right told him that his friend had survived the rapid exit from the wagon.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Peri felt as if his nose had taken the worst of the impact as he had gone face first into the marsh. He wiped mud from his eyes.

  ‘Nothing broken,’ reported Conal.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  Holding on to each other for support, they staggered out of the patch of muddy ground and back to the path. Peri did a quick inventory of his weapons. His bowstring had snapped—good riddance to the thing—but his sword was still at his thigh. He drew it.

  ‘Krital must have a guard on the road,’ he said hoarsely, spitting out the rank taste of marsh water. ‘I’d prefer to slip by rather than fight through.’