Suyin had nothing important to do, so she walked into the village with her two friends. She was dressed in her dancing outfit – partly because the sword dancers would be among the first to perform – and wearing her sword. It was not the sword she performed with, however: this was a good-quality, finely balanced weapon she said she had inherited. It was not quite a match for Ayah’s sword, but it was something a little special.
Ayah was in her deerskin and had her sword slung at her hip. Even Nareel had put on her bodice ready to begin the evening’s duties. The trio were something of a strange sight as they marched up to the gate and pasted the first of the posters up. Still, no one asked what they were doing or took much notice of them, even while Nareel was bashing the brush against the gate and cursing whoever had used it last for not washing out the glue.
‘I swear,’ Nareel said as they walked toward the middle of the village, ‘I’ll find out who did this job last and glue their lips together.’
‘It would never work,’ Suyin replied. ‘The glue dissolves in water.’
‘I’ll use a lot of glue!’
Ayah was watching the people they were passing. She smiled at anyone who looked directly at her, but rarely got a smile in return. Most peculiarly, the men seemed oblivious to the passage of three attractive young women displaying more flesh than was common for the Plains. Ayah could have understood disapproval – there were villages with much greater piety than Avrilatha on the Western Plains and that often resulted in a very conservative dress code – but this was indifference. ‘Have you noticed how… strange the people are here?’ she asked as they approached the village hall and the wooden board outside it where they planned to put their poster.
‘It does seem quiet,’ Suyin said.
‘Suppressed,’ Nareel said. ‘Or depressed. They all look as though the sun hasn’t shone on them in years.’
‘The men aren’t interested in us,’ Ayah said. ‘Nor any other women as far as I can see.’
‘The children seem fine,’ Nareel said. ‘What few of them there are. Let’s get this posted. I want to be out among our own folk.’
As Nareel began working glue onto the board – still with some difficulty – Suyin looked around at the square the hall was on. Loffton was trying to be a town. The village hall was quite large and had stone walls and a high, arched roof. The rest of the central square had a couple of large houses, an inn, and several shops, but the inn had seen better days and several of the shops had been boarded up. Loffton had been trying to be a town, but it seemed that it was failing.
‘This place,’ Suyin said, ‘has something wrong with it. All the best shops have been closed down.’ She looked grumpily at one dress shop which had a pair of wooden planks nailed over its doorway.
‘Thinking about it,’ Ayah said, ‘there were a few houses like that on the way in from the gate. Maybe we could put the last poster up at the inn.’
‘I don’t think putting them on every wall in the village would help,’ Nareel said, but she set off toward the inn anyway.
The sign above the door – which showed a bundle of wheat and some tankards – was hanging on only one of its two chains and had not been painted in years. Once upon a time, the walls had been coated in plaster and painted, but now the paint was almost entirely gone and the wooden boards behind the plaster were showing through in places. Inside, however, the taproom was quite full. Men sat at every table, most of them drinking with the kind of intensity that suggested they were determined to get drunk. And that was in the middle of the afternoon. None of them paid much attention to the three girls as they went to the back of the room where there were barrels and a table to serve as a counter and a man standing behind it wearing an apron and looking listless.
‘Would it be alright if we put up one of our posters here?’ Ayah asked the man who she presumed was the innkeeper. ‘We’re with Taravel’s Circus. Sword and Fire Dances, feats of great strength, and the opportunity to win coin in competition with our fighters.’
The innkeeper was a balding man with a beer belly and an unkempt sort of brown beard who looked a lot like he had given up on regular washing some time ago. He stared at Ayah as though she were speaking some foreign language and then gave a shrug. ‘Do as you wish. Loffton is not a good place for your kind. You’ll have little custom.’
‘Thanks,’ Ayah said. She flashed him a smile she did not feel and turned to her friends. ‘Let’s put it by the door. They all have to go home sometime.’
‘When they’ve run out of money for ale, I think,’ Suyin said. ‘I think the innkeeper’s right. Taravel might have some trouble making a profit on this place.’
~~~
The circus was making money, but mostly at the drinks tents. Since her performance was later in the evening, Ayah accompanied a wary Nareel around the circus in the evening and a pattern seemed to be emerging among the customers.
‘Too much drinking,’ Nareel said at one point. ‘This isn’t good. When men get drunk, at least some of them get rowdy.’
Ayah was watching the crowd too. There were some men wandering about between the smaller stands and buying cider at one, beer at another. Most had found the larger tent which was more like a portable tavern. There were no tables, but the men seemed content to sit on the grass and throw back ale. Ayah was not getting the feeling that these men would get rowdy, but she did have images of having to drag some of them out after they succumbed to drink-induced comas.
‘At least Avoona is doing good business,’ Ayah said.
‘True. All women though, that I’ve seen. She usually has one or two men going to her for advice, but I’ve only seen women.’
‘The men here… don’t seem like men.’
‘Sitting around and getting drunk seems like men to me. Plains men anyway. I’m not saying our tribesmen don’t get drunk, but they don’t get drunk as much. Drink and freezing temperatures don’t work well together.’
‘Oh. I thought a little liquor warmed you up in the cold.’
Nareel shook her head. ‘It makes you feel warmer for a bit but it’s a fake warmth. Being drunk is worse because it stops you even realising that you’re freezing to death.’
‘Okay. I’ll remember that. Don’t drink and freeze.’ Ayah looked around as Nareel giggled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make that noise before.’
Nareel straightened her face quickly. ‘I’m a fairly serious person. When you grow up surrounded by snow, being serious is a matter of survival.’
‘I guess. Why did you move south?’
‘I wanted to see more of the world. When I was born, my father saw a falling star in the sky. Our shaman said that it meant I would have a wandering spirit. I guess he was right.’
‘I don’t really believe in fate. Or fortunes. I’ve met spirits and they were really kind of like people, so I don’t think I really believe in worshipping them or that they can tell a shaman anything about the future.’
Nareel stopped her slow ramble and looked at Ayah. ‘You’ve met spirits?’
‘One or two.’
‘And yet you don’t believe in them?’
‘I don’t need to believe in them. I know they’re there. It’s like saying, “I believe in air.” I just don’t see the need to treat them as something special. I can respect them, or fear them, because some of them are powerful and some of them are worthy of respect. Uh, those two groups can overlap. But I’ve never met a spirit that wasn’t, well, a person. And that includes Leshak, and he’s the guardian of the Forest of Lambech.’
‘Oh,’ Nareel said. ‘I suppose, when you put it like that… I think I’ll carry on paying my respects to them.’
‘I’m not asking you to stop.’
‘Good. You really met the guardian of the forest?’
‘That’s who taught me Wood Form. And believe me, wrestling someone who has bark for skin is a huge incentive to learn how to do it right.’
~~~
There were relatively few people
in the audience for the Fire Dance that evening and more of them were women, as though not having a bunch of aroused males there made the ladies more likely to watch. None of the dancers who made money on the side were getting the extra income tonight either. It seemed to Ayah that someone had taken all the man out of the men of Loffton.
Yaena set off to discuss the strange problem with Taravel as soon as the last dance of the evening was done with, so Ayah set off back to her own tent clad in her minimal dancing costume with a cloak slung over the top of it. And that was when she discovered that the strange malaise affecting the villagers had not had any effect on the men in the circus.
‘Jun’s not here to interrupt this time,’ a familiar voice said from behind her as she crossed through a row of wagons which partially screened the residential tents from the business ones.
Ayah turned around to face Rathven. His back was to the lights of the circus and he was just a big, looming shadow, but she looked up at where his eyes probably were and said, ‘Jun didn’t interrupt anything last time, Rathven.’
‘Come on, girl. You know you want it.’
‘I am absolutely sure that whatever you have, I don’t want it anywhere near me.’
‘Sure you do. I’ve seen you with Yaena. You just need a big man to show you what you’re missing.’
Ayah suppressed a sigh. Clearly, Rathven was determined in the way only a fool could be and he was not going to back off through any subtle exercise in diplomacy. ‘Well, would you run along and find me a big man? Perhaps I’ll give him a try.’
Rathven’s hands – his big hands – landed on Ayah’s shoulders. ‘I’m big enough for you, little girl.’
Now Ayah did sigh. ‘Pathetic,’ she said, and then she was grabbing the front of Rathven’s tunic. She did not so much pull him toward her as pull herself in toward him, the move clearly coming as a complete surprise since he offered no resistance. But then it was dark and her body was in the way, so he had no opportunity to see her knee slamming upward into his groin. He made a very odd noise and then keeled over, his hands going to his battered parts. Still standing, Ayah slammed her heel down into his stomach, getting a satisfying grunt out of him as the air was pushed out of his lungs, but he managed to regain a sitting position at that point and that was not going to do. Reaching out, she grabbed his hair in both hands and drove her knee into his face. She felt him go limp in her hands and, when she let go of his hair, he flopped onto the grass like a limp fish.
His nose was bleeding profusely, which was potentially a very bad thing. He was breathing, for now. The moron was going to be really heavy to drag anywhere too. ‘What am I going to do with you, little girl?’ Ayah asked the unconscious would-be rapist. She turned him over, propping him up on one arm to ensure that his bleeding did not start to drown him, and set off toward her tent. Maybe Suyin and Nareel would be back and they could help her move the idiot somewhere where she could work on him.
23rd Day, First Nahad.
‘Ayah?’ Taravel’s voice was loud and sounded rather angry. ‘Ayah, get out here!’ Definitely not pleased.
Ayah poked her head out of the tent and looked at the bulky form of her boss. ‘What is it, Laoshi Taravel?’
‘What’ve you done to Rathven?’
A slightly irrational burst of anger creased Ayah’s brow. ‘Nothing he didn’t have coming. He doesn’t take no for an answer.’
‘He says you’ve bewitched him. He woke up screaming and he’s too weak to get out of bed. He’s had barely any sleep.’
‘That’s odd. He was sleeping soundly when we put him to bed.’
Taravel glowered at her for a second, but that produced nothing but Ayah looking back at him and feeling angrier. ‘I’m not talking to just your head. Get out here and explain yourself.’
‘Let me get dressed,’ Ayah grumbled and she backed into the tent to put on her deerskins.
Five minutes later they were standing in front of Rathven’s tent which Avoona was just coming out of. The fortune teller was frowning. ‘I’m no healer,’ she said, ‘but his qi is unbalanced in a way I’ve never seen before.’
‘What did you do to him?’ Taravel snapped at Ayah.
His anger just made hers fierier. ‘How am I supposed to have done that? The pig tried to force himself on me, not for the first time, and I fought back. The bruises are my doing. Suyin and Nareel helped me get him back here. I stopped his bleeding nose and cleaned up the mess. He was asleep when I left.’ She watched Taravel’s reaction to her statement; he showed neither surprise nor outrage at her statement that Rathven had tried to assault her. Her anger grew hotter still.
‘He’s not just bruised. What did you–’
‘Don’t be foolish, Taravel,’ Avoona said, her voice calm. ‘Whatever has happened to Rathven, it was not caused by a few blows. Ayah is not lying and I’ve told you before that Rathven is too much trouble.’
‘He’s one of my best wrestlers.’ Ayah burst into laughter. Taravel’s anger had been subsiding, but now it flared up again. ‘What are you laughing at?’
‘If he’s one of your best, I don’t know how you make money on those bouts. He was down in three blows from a girl.’ Ayah looked once at the glare Taravel was giving her and pushed past him to Rathven’s tent. ‘Oh, let me see.’
There were two cots in the tent, but Rathven’s roommate was missing. The floor was messy, with clothes strewn over the rush matting, and the second cot was unmade. Rathven lay under a blanket, right where Ayah had left him, but he was shivering and his eyes were shadowed. Well, they looked shadowed, but there was a huge bruise about the size of Ayah’s knee over the left one so it was a little hard to tell. He took one look at Ayah and let out a yelp. ‘Witch! Get away from me!’
‘Shut up, you oversized baby,’ Ayah snapped and advanced on him. ‘What’s wrong with you? Avoona says your qi is unbalanced.’
‘You’re a–’
‘Witch? Yes, you said. Witches are folklore, idiot, but my mother is a healer. Tell me what’s wrong with you? Are you cold?’
‘Yes, I’m cold,’ Rathven spat. There seemed to be more spite than anger in him.
Stepping forward, Ayah reached out toward him and he flinched back. ‘Lie still, idiot. I’m hardly going to hurt you with Taravel standing in the doorway of your tent, am I?’ He did not look happy, but he held still as she pressed around the sides of his neck. He let out a squeal of pain when she touched his bruised cheek. Then she pulled the blanket off him and got more screams out of him as she pressed over the bruise on his stomach. She decided that no matter what the circumstances, she was not going near the other area she had bruised the night before.
Stepping back, she turned to look at Taravel and Avoona who were indeed standing in the entrance to the tent. Behind her, Rathven pulled his blanket back up and started shivering again. ‘I might have cracked his cheekbone. I can’t find any evidence of damaged organs, but his skin’s clammy. It’s a sign of unbalanced qi, as you said, Avoona. He’ll be fine if he gets a few good nights of rest and you have to admit, Taravel, that no one in this village wants to challenge any of our people anyway.’
The fat man’s face fell and he frowned more with puzzlement than annoyance. ‘No. That’s true.’
‘It’s more than that,’ Avoona said. She glanced at Rathven and then waved for Ayah to come outside. When they were clear of the tent, she kept her voice low. ‘The village men I saw last night were like Rathven. Unbalanced in a way I’ve not seen before. Weakened. Listless. And I had a lot of women in my tent asking me about just one thing. From what they were saying, there hasn’t been a child born in Loffton for at least a Great Year. Probably nearer to two. The men aren’t interested in their wives and on the few times that they are, nothing comes of it.’
‘Like they’re not men any more,’ Ayah said. ‘That’s… I don’t recall my mother ever mentioning that kind of thing when she was teaching me. With a bit of time, and assuming he’d let me, I might be able to cure Rathven o
f his… affliction. There are some techniques my mother taught me to rebalance qi when it’s disturbed, but, um, I’m not as good at that kind of thing as she is.’
‘There’s something very wrong in this village,’ Avoona went on. ‘I’m not sure what it is, but I think it’s come out to affect us too.’
‘That’s just… wonderful,’ Taravel said, his voice a growl. He glared at Ayah again. ‘The next time someone bothers you… inappropriately, come to me. Don’t beat him up.’
‘Should I talk to you before or after he’s raped me, Taravel?’ Ayah asked, her voice rising again.
‘Don’t talk to me like–’
‘Please, fire me if you want to.’ Ayah turned and started back toward her tent. ‘I’m not sure I want to work for a man who knew full well that he’s got a rapist working for him and let it go because he’s a good wrestler.’ She took another two steps and then added, ‘Which he isn’t. Beaten black and blue by a girl.’
Taravel watched her retreating back with invisible steam coming out of his ears until Avoona spoke. ‘She’s right, you know? You’ve lost three dancers because of that idiot. Fire dancers are a lot harder to replace than wrestlers and you’re right on the verge of losing your new one.’
‘Huh,’ Taravel grunted. Then he sort of deflated – not a pleasing sight in a fat man – and slowly nodded. ‘You’re right. She’s right. I should’ve done something about him a long time ago.’
Avoona chuckled and patted Taravel’s arm. ‘You should have kicked him out. The only other thing that might stop a bully like him is what’s just happened to him. At the very least, he’ll think twice before he tries his luck with another girl.’
The Iron Princess Page 14