She nodded, ‘I know.’ She sat on the window seat, and seemed to relax. ‘You did well. The fool of a chambermaid told me you wanted to see a performing dog.’
I nodded. N’tombe breathed rapidly, puffing like a kettle under steam. ‘And did you not,’ her voice was ominously calm, ‘think that this may not be the best thing to do right now?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why do you think I sent Will away?’ she said. ‘Young people! The same everywhere! You never stop to think.’
I sat on the side of my bed. ‘I thought you sent Will away because I was growing …’ I swallowed and she supplied the answer.
‘Too fond of him?’
I nodded.
‘No. I sent him because he was the best person for the job.’ She retrieved my crumpled hose from under the bed. ‘You’d better keep this out of your Nurse’s way. What’s wrong?’
It must have been the anxiety that made me cry, for normally I would never have done so. I couldn’t answer, but shook my head while I tried to control the tears, stop them falling. ‘Is he well, N’tombe? You’ve never told me.’
She nodded slowly, as though considering what to say. ‘He’s fine, Princess.’
Patting my pocket, I found a handkerchief wadded into a ball. Probably not that clean, but who cares? I blew my nose.
‘Rosa said something about an enemy.’ My voice was muffled.
N’tombe said nothing, just sat with her hands in her lap, watching me while I wiped my eyes.
Then she stirred, speaking quietly. ‘I came to this place because Rosa called me. I left kin, friends, all I knew, because Auntie Zissi said it was the right thing to do.’ She looked out the window. ‘It was the right thing. I know that, but sometimes I miss my family so much I ache.’ Her voice was sad. For a time we sat together in silence until N’tombe sighed and spoke again in a brisker tone. ‘And while I followed the call that stretched like a golden path before my feet, I could feel others also searching. But without the markers that she put before me, they were lost. But now they have found us. Which is not what we wanted, I know, but it may be useful. For they don’t know that we know who they are.’
I tried to work this out.
‘The problem is: we don’t know yet who these people work for,’ she said. ‘But their intentions are not kindly. You saw how they deal with the weak.’
I nodded and she clapped her thighs, energized into action. ‘So, thanks to you, the king will take them into custody. And we can ask them some questions.’
‘Will they answer?’
She smiled, hooking her fingers into claws. ‘I think so,’ she said softly. ‘Oh yes, I think so.’
29
A Dream of Death
That night I dreamt.
I stood on a stone path that angled steeply through woodland, the trees sparse and sharply bent, as though pruned to all grow one way. The overcast sky was dark with a promise of rain, but the air was warm, so muggy that each breath hung slow and thick. Crooked-necked birds cawed, fluttering from tall cliffs. My hair blew into my face and the whine of the wind merged with the sound of men yelling, the clang of metal on metal.
Nearby, a man shouted. I knew that voice. Will! He was calling for help.
I ran up the track, my breath shuddering in my mouth. If only I had my blades. Ah, but it was a dream, wasn’t it? Like an answer, my arms stretched with sudden weight, my hands curving automatically about leather grips. The track turned a corner and I leapt into battle, knives in my hands. I twisted to avoid a curved sword and plunged my weapon up and into the armpit of my attacker. A confused melee of sound and horror: blood slippery on the rocks, men screaming, calling. Horses and mules brayed, fighting their riders as they tried to bolt.
The track passed through a narrow canyon of smooth-humped rocks. Ideal for an ambush. Men with drawn bows stood, outlined against the grey sky. Find shelter, Dana! I darted into the shade of the rocks, stumbling on a corpse. An archer, fallen from above, his eyes glazing in a never-moving stare. Flies buzzed about the stab wound in his chest. He still had his bow with him.
My fingers shook on the quiver’s buckle. Be still, hands. I pulled it from his heavy shoulders, placing it over my own shoulder. The bow was finely crafted from layers of shiny wood, its ends tipped with brass. I nocked an arrow to its string, aimed at an ambusher above, and drew back the string. The arrows were well made, the bow accurate; above me a man screamed, arching backwards, tumbling in terrible slowness to fall on the track beside me. I paid him no attention for he was a dream, a figment of my imagination. Instead, I shot the man standing next to him.
Nearby a horse whinnied, a terrible call of fury and pain, and a man shouted. Will! Watching for archers, I ducked around an overhang and headed up the track towards him. He and another man had taken shelter under a roof of rock, but his packhorse had an arrow in her rump. She neighed again and, turning nimbly on the narrow track, headed away from him, her hooves clattering, sliding on the stones.
‘Come on. Into the woods,’ said the other man. Hadn’t I seen him before, in an earlier dream? He’d known N’tombe. His name? Jed.
Will and Jed galloped up the hill into the relative safety of the scraggy trees.
I raced beside them, running as quickly as wind, as fast as thought. Arrows hissed in pursuit; I stopped, faced the archer. I had the advantage now, for I was the one uphill. I loosed the arrow, heard the wet thump and scream at its delivery.
Will crouched low on the mare’s neck, as his horse twisted through the gnarled trees.
‘Watch for roots,’ I called.
I didn’t know if he heard me, but he slowed his pace. I pulled two more arrows from the trunks of trees. Steel-tipped, they’d been driven inches into the bark but my dream-induced strength yanked them free as though they were stuck in butter.
‘There!’ called Jed, pointing. Behind us was a man on horseback. Will turned towards him, chasing the shooter, shortening the distance. A risky move, for the man was skilled, putting the arrow to the string as he galloped.
‘Will!’ I screamed and he ducked.
Too close. Way too close. Angry, I followed, zooming through the trees so fast they blurred. I couldn’t let him get away.
Jed called from the right. ‘There’re two of them.’
‘You take the other. I’m on this one,’ Will shouted.
He could look after himself. Although I ached to follow, I made myself wait behind a tree, an ambush for the ambushers. And here they came, five men on small ponies, dark against the grey sky. I took two of them before they’d entered the forest, the third under the tree, the final two as they passed at a gallop, not seeing me in their terror. Or maybe I was invisible. Then I turned, running up the slope as effortlessly as a deer, worrying: Will didn’t have a bow!
As I neared, Will pulled a blade from his boot, throwing it straight at the man’s face. His quarry screamed and swayed, toppling to one side as his horse turned, running downhill as if a dragon was after it. The dead man’s foot was caught in the stirrup and he was dragged like a heavy sack, bouncing and jerking until the stirrup leather broke and he jolted free, the knife sticking out of an eye.
Above us, Jed bellowed and we heard the clash of metal on metal. Will retrieved his knife then turned, galloping towards the sound. I ran behind him, towards the hill’s crest.
In the distance the trail continued onwards across grasslands towards white-topped mountains. The land seemed peaceful, serene.
Jed called a warning and Will turned his mare quickly as another horseman, hiding on the other side of the peak, swung out from the trees, an arrow pointed straight at Will. I put an arrow to my bow, but Will spurred his mount forward, blocking my fire.
His mare reared and screamed, a terrible sound, and fell with an arrow in her belly. Just in time, Will jumped clear.
‘Hah, kill my horse, will you?’ he shouted.
The bandit spurred his horse forward with his knees and put another arrow to hi
s bow. Will threw his blade hard, in one smooth motion, at the stranger’s horse. It screamed and stumbled, crashing to the ground. But the man had leapt clear, and now had a sword.
Will had no weapons left. I sprinted towards him, but I’d forgotten just how fast he could move, rushing his enemy. Hands flicking in block, parry, counter stroke. The man could hardly raise his hands before he was on his knees. With a grunt, Will dragged the blade from the horse’s eye. It was caught in the bone and he had to yank hard. The man stumbled to his feet but Will kicked out and knocked him over. Like a training session with the sentries; so easy. Will completed the finishing stroke automatically, stabbing the blade into the raider’s neck, blinking at the sudden fountain of blood. The man groaned and sagged.
‘Well, now,’ said Jed.
I felt sick. I’d never killed anyone before; now I’d murdered many. Fast and without mercy. Conditioned by my training — how pleased the sergeant would be. I must still be soft, though; Will, covered in drying red-brown blood, didn’t seem concerned that he’d killed with such violence. Instead he went to his horse. The mare lay on her side, an arrow in her chest.
‘Damn good archers,’ said Jed. ‘Got her through the heart.’
The smell, it must be the smell that made me feel sick. And the blood on the hot rocks and the flies that crawled over the bodies and landed on the open eyes of the dead man. I staggered to a crack in the rock and vomited. And then I just sat, resting against the grey stone, thinking nothing at all, watching the grey sky and black birds drifting on the wind.
‘And what,’ said Jed, coming around the rock and nearly standing on me, ‘is this?’
He was on me before I could move, a knife pressed to my throat.
‘No!’ called Will. I blinked as he knelt beside me and touched my forehead. Despite the warmth, Will’s hands felt strangely cool. I sighed, turning my cheek towards his palm.
‘What are you doing here?’
I smiled up at him. ‘I think I’m dreaming,’ I said. ‘Did you not see me?’
He shook his head. ‘Of course I can see you. What are you doing here?’
‘I’m dreaming,’ I said again.
Realization dawned, and he grinned. ‘Is this your dream or mine?’ he said.
Oh, it was wonderful to see his dimples and the sweep of his dark hair on his forehead. Even his smell, blood and horse and sweat, was good.
I stood, slowly. ‘No,’ I said, ‘it’s definitely mine.’
He seemed taller than I remembered, deeper voiced and broad of shoulder. I touched his face, stroking the stubble on his jaw. ‘You look older, Will.’
He held my wrist. ‘Dana!’ The familiar exasperation, the firm grip that I couldn’t twist away from, no matter how I tried.
‘What just happened, Will?’
‘We were ambushed.’
‘Why?’
He shrugged.
‘Because the merchant was a tight-fisted fool,’ grunted Jed, running his hands through the dead bandit’s pockets. ‘Told him he needed more guards, but would he listen?’ He spat on the ground. ‘Don’t pay to do things on the cheap. Not round here.’ He cocked his head, listening. ‘Sounds like the battle’s over. Such as it was.’
Will squatted beside his dead horse and removed its saddle and bridle.
‘Where are we?’
‘Near the mountains,’ said Will, picking up the saddle. ‘Where am I going to get a horse?’
‘I’ll steal you one. They can’t see me,’ I hoped.
‘What do you mean? I can see you.’
‘You didn’t before.’
‘Before?’
‘I chased you up the hill. I killed the men following you.’
Jed looked at me. ‘Not killed a man before?’
‘No.’
‘Well then.’ Jed scratched the ground with his boot. ‘First time’s the worst.’
Turning, I slipped back into the dream state, a blend of unreality and solitude, not unlike the trance of training, or dreaming with Rinpoche. I flowed downhill, gently as water, past the still bodies of the men I’d killed, down to the quarry where bandits with curved swords pillaged the dead and dying. Their horses grazed on the sparse grass beside the track.
I took the nearest one, the tallest, and turned it gently towards the slope. It didn’t seem to mind, tipping its ear at me as I whispered to it, asking it to head uphill. Strangely, none of the bandits seemed to see us. Had the horse become invisible too?
I returned to the men.
‘We didn’t see you coming,’ Will said in wonder.
Even Jed looked shaken. ‘As if you appeared from nowhere. A ghost.’
I laughed. ‘A very convenient ghost. Here you are, Will.’ I gestured to the horse. ‘Don’t worry,’ I added, as he circled around the animal, ‘it’s real.’
He smiled, his grin crooked. ‘What do they say about a gift horse?’ He considered the animal. ‘Think I’ll keep my own saddle.’
‘Anyone follow us, lady?’ asked Jed.
‘They’re dead.’ I looked at Will. ‘When will you be home?’ I miss you.
He shook his head. ‘There’s something I have to do first.’
‘What?’
‘We’re getting close.’
‘To what?’
He sighed. ‘To the city.’
‘What city?’
‘We’ve heard tell of a huge city, on an empty plain. The Black City, some call it. Others call it the Stronghold.’
‘Why do you want to go there?’
He handed me the bridle and reins. The bit was sticky. ‘It’s where the king is supposed to live.’
‘The king?’
‘Or an emperor. Some sort of ruler, anyway. Either way, he’s old, very old. The rumour is that he’s eternal.’
There were new calluses on Will’s blood-encrusted hands.
‘The locals don’t talk about him,’ said Jed. ‘Turn away if we ask, tell us to go. That’s why we took up with skinflint,’ Jed jerked his thumb down the hill. ‘He talked to us.’
‘And paid us,’ said Will, struggling with his horse, who didn’t want the bridle and kept pointing his nose to the sky. ‘Come on now.’ He slipped the bit into the horse’s mouth. ‘The locals — those we could talk to — call this king “Perpetual” or “Never-ending”.’
‘Never-ending Nightmare,’ said Jed. ‘That’s what that monk said. Old, they said, and cruel, with many soldiers and sorcerers. Long ago, he came to their land. They still remember. Big cairns full of skulls beside the paths. The monk showed them to me. They fear he could return.’
‘They say he hears the sound of his name from a thousand miles away,’ said Will. ‘So they never name him.’
‘So why are you looking for him?’
‘The monk told us the Eternal is searching for an island kingdom. “For news of an island kingdom, the ancient one offers a fortune in gold,” he said. Thought we should follow it up.’
‘There’s lots of island kingdoms,’ I said.
‘True. But there were strangers at the Crossing. Foreigners. We think they came from him.’
‘What does that king want from us?’ I said.
Will shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s nothing to do with us. They said they just wanted to trade.’
I told him of the strange ships, the warrior from my dreams.
‘That damn magic worker,’ said Jed. ‘Should have killed him when we had the chance.’
Will grunted and tightened his tack. He seemed different: quieter, terse. Always self-contained, Will often appeared wary. Now, that hesitation was replaced with self-reliance. It was strange, this change in such a short time.
‘How is everyone at home?’ Will asked, tightening the girth.
I shrugged. ‘It’s Festival time. Everything’s a little crazy, I guess.’
‘Festival? It can’t be. It’s not yet October.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s tomorrow. Unfortunately.’
‘We haven’t been a yea
r, have we?’ Will stared at Jed. ‘I counted the full moons.’
Jed scratched his neck. ‘I ain’t counted, myself. What does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters.’ Will sounded indignant. ‘How could I be out by nine months?’
I didn’t really care about the moons. I cared about the bandits down in the valley. Sooner or later they’d start thinking about their missing companions.
‘We’d better go,’ I said urgently. ‘We can talk about this while we travel, can’t we?’
‘She’s right,’ said Jed. ‘Come on, lad.’
‘You can ride behind me, Princess. Provided you’re well behaved.’ Will smiled and the dimples deepened in his cheeks.
Stepping up to his horse, I reached for the saddle, but it was like drifting through treacle. Too slow. The change happened quickly.
‘I’m waking,’ I gasped, as my fingers and toes grew heavy. Before it was too late, I turned to Will, wrapping my fading arms about him, hugging him tight.
When I woke, I could still feel his body against mine.
30
Belle of the Ball
Rosa had shrunk. The necklace seemed to be weighing her down, pulling her head towards her chest. She breathed harshly, panting like a runner after a long race. Except there was no race, no running, just this padded seat at a table in a tower.
Even N’tombe, who spent more time here than me, was shocked by her appearance. ‘Woman, you must eat more,’ she said.
Rosa smiled slightly, the skin of her face crinkling like paper. ‘Do I look that bad?’
Looking at the old woman before me, with her tissue-thin skin and shaking hands, it was hard to imagine that only yesterday she’d appeared from a golden cloud like a goddess. The stone of the tower surrounded me, enclosing me in my own private tomb. I wanted to turn and tumble down that winding stairwell, out into the light.
Rosa glanced at me, her face understanding. ‘Some of the hardest battles,’ she said, ‘are fought not with arms, but with our own mind.’
I still felt unwell from last night. N’tombe had entered my room just as my eyes blinked open. Overnight, it seemed, a storm wind had tumbled through my chamber. Torn sheets were strewn about the room and my uncombed hair was tangled into a bird’s nest. But worse, I’d been sick but had slept through the whole nasty business. I felt as though I’d been rolling in sewage; I looked it too. Even Nurse, who normally behaved as though I was three and any accident was a minor indiscretion that could be fixed by soft bandages and cuddles, appeared shocked.
A Necklace of Souls Page 24