Walkin behind the bed is a lady wearin long dark green material that doesn’t look like no clothes I’ve ever seen before. It’s gotta be the stupidest thing I ever saw someone wearin. It looks heavy and no good for runnin. The lady looks straight ahead like it’s too much effort to turn her head to see who’s in the room. A hek bulkin pig trots by her side with its snout snifflin up in the air. Its back is hairy with skittin black splodges on it, and its trotters clop on the stone floor, louder than what you’d expect.
Stranger than all of that is what’s lyin on the bed. It’s a dead body covered from head to foot in metal armor. The only parts pokin out are its hands and its face, which are withered and bone-white like the blood’s been drained out of them. Why they bringin a dead man in to dinner? The way evryone’s bowin their heads makes me think it must be King Edmund. If it is, that means the Inglish king’s dead. Well, that’s a startler. But then I’m lookin closer and . . . Wait — what? The dead man’s fingers . . . They’re movin.
The eight men guards put the bed down by the door and then they pick up the movin corpse and carry it toward us. It clinks and clanks cuz of all the armor it’s wearin. Right when it’s close to us, its eyes spring open.
He’s alive.
He stares at Konge Grímr and he stares at me. The guards put him in the chair next to me so I’m stood right in the middle of the two kings. Most of the guards step back, but two of them stay right close next to their king, with one hand on each of his shoulders. The lady in green sits on the chair on the other side of him, and the big pink pig plomps down by her feet. Once the king and the lady are sittin, evryone else sits too.
“Welcome,” King Edmund ses to Konge Grímr. He talks like his throat’s got holes in it and all the breath’s escapin. “After so many years of favorable trade with your nation, it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”
“Likewise,” says Konge Grímr in the foreign tongue, “although I’m disappointed not to witness the grandeur of your palace with my own eyes. The girl tells me it’s quite something.” He pulls on the chain for me to stand up again. I do an awkward sorta bow. “She is my eyes and will be with me at all times, but you can ignore her. She cannot understand us. She’s nothing.”
King Edmund glances at me, then straightaways looks away. His eyes are so old they’ve turned cloudy like curds. On the other side of King Edmund, the lady in the green leans forward to look at me too, and she gawps for much longer. She’s starin at my ink. I turn my head so she can’t see it no more.
“This is my wife, Lady Beatrice,” ses King Edmund, pointin to the lady in the green.
His wife? She’s a hek lot younger than he is. Maybe that’s why she looks so sad, cuz she has to be married to that scraggin rotcorpse. Konge Grímr squeezes the top of my head.
“He’s pointin to the lady sittin next to him,” I say in his ear, quiet so only he can hear. “She’s smilin at you in a not-real way. She’s older than my mother but not by much. And she’s wearin green clothes what look stupid.”
“My eyes tell me you are very beautiful,” ses Konge Grímr. I said no such thing. If anythin, Lady Beatrice is kinda borin lookin. She’s got borin color hair what’s been tied up all twirled with some bits scragglin down. Her lips are pale and her eyes haven’t got no shine in them.
“That’s very kind of her,” Lady Beatrice ses, and she’s lookin at me again when she ses it. Her right arm drifts down to the pig by her side, and she scratches the harsk black hair on its snout. The pig lets out a burpin oink.
“It sounds as if our food is still alive,” ses Konge Grímr.
“You mean the pig?” says King Edmund. “Oh, no, that belongs to Lady Beatrice. It has become somewhat fashionable in recent years for women to keep pigs as companions. We must allow our women their fancies, must we not?”
Konge Grímr frowns like he thinks what King Edmund said is stupid. I think it’s stupid too. And I haven’t heard of someone keepin a pig as a pet before neither.
The food arrives and it’s the Inglish women what bring it in. They’re all bowin and eyes down and careful not to make no fuss, makin me think the women in this country have got it rotten. Sept for the Lady Beatrice, of course. Why’re the women doin all the servin while the men sit there gettin evrythin brought to them? If I lived here, I wouldn’t stand for that, that’s for hek sure. But then, I’m chained up and don’t have no say about nothin, so what do I know?
I haven’t never seen so much food before. There’s a whole cow, a whole sheep, and a whole dog for evry table. They’ve all of them still got their eyes but they’ve not got no skin. They’re splayed open on big plates, all burnt red and starin. More things come like vegetables and breads and mashed things and soupy somethin else, and I don’t know what the half of it is.
“Let us feast!” shouts King Edmund, and he throws his hands up in the air. Even though he’s nothin but bones wrapped in skin, he can move hek fast. Evryone grabs at the food, pullin and tearin and chewin on. King Edmund doesn’t touch nothin. He points and points, and a man steps from behind him and does the pullin and the tearin and the grabbin for him. When the king’s plate is overflowin, the man behind him takes a bite out of evrythin. He even drinks some of King Edmund’s drink. Must be some way they have here.
I tell Konge Grímr what all the foods are and take them for him. He tells me he wants cow and sheep and dog. The meat is hot as I’m rippin it off its bones. When his plate is full, he starts eatin with both hands. I don’t get to try none like King Edmund’s man did, even though my stomach’s crumblin. I sit back down on the floor and lick the meat grease from my fingers. It only makes me more hungry.
“I was most horrified to hear of the attack on your people,” King Edmund ses in his breathwheeze voice.
“The condolences and aid you sent in its aftermath were received with gratitude,” ses Konge Grímr. He picks at some food what’s stuck between his nashers.
“From the last message I received, I do believe our problems are one and the same,” ses King Edmund, “and that we desire the same outcome.”
Konge Grímr puts down the meat bone he’s been chewin and turns to King Edmund. “I seek revenge on those who have wronged me,” he ses. “Namely: the slaves who were supposed to serve Øden but instead fled the mountain, the boy who unleashed the death shadows upon my people, and the girl who made the bats tear out my eyes.”
“And these people are all Scotian, is that correct?”
“They live on the Isle of Skye, off the west Scotian coast.”
“Then I too wish for them to be . . . dealt with. I have heard their numbers are small, so their obliteration will be easy.”
“You would be wise not to underestimate them,” ses Konge Grímr. “They are more of a threat than they appear. They are in possession of an army of almost unstoppable shadows, as well as a girl who can manipulate animals to do her bidding.”
“I am aware of the girl,” says King Edmund.
“You know about her?” asks Konge Grímr.
“Last month, a great many wildwolves entered the north of Ingland from Scotia. Many of them were slain, but some were captured and brought to my dungeons. I wished to know why they were fleeing, so I brought a man here — one with an ability similar to this girl’s. He spoke to one of the wildwolves and learned about the girl’s existence. Her powers sound impressive. And dangerous.”
“She is both of those things, but still merely a girl. In fact, less than a girl; she was born wrong.”
“What do you mean ‘wrong’?” asks Lady Beatrice.
King Edmund looks hek shocked that she’s spoken, as if he’d forgotten she was there.
“Her brain is wrong,” ses Konge Grímr. “In Norveg we would not have let her live.”
“And yet you failed to control her, even though she was your prisoner?” ses King Edmund. He’s tauntin Konge Grímr and enjoyin evry speck of it.
“As I say, she and her people should not be underestimated.”
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nbsp; “So you do not have the strength to defeat them alone?” ses King Edmund. “That is why you came — to request my assistance?”
“As you say, our objectives are one and the same,” ses Konge Grímr. “It’s true that we lost many on the Night of the Dark Mountain, but I have recruited widely from elsewhere in the country and brought one hundred warriors with me. Norvegian fighters are the best in the world, and more are on their way. When the rest of my warriors arrive, I suggest they join your army.”
“And then?”
“Then we go to war.”
King Edmund lifts one scraggin hand to his chin. His skeleton fingers scrape against the metal hood he’s wearin.
“I like that plan,” he ses. “I like that plan very much.”
I jump up quick. We need to get out of the prison bothan. The shadow things are coming and they will get us if we don’t.
“We need to get out!” I say.
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” says Aileen. She is banging on the door harder with her fist. “Help me.”
I bang it too but it is so hard it hurts me and it will not move. The noise of the shadow things is getting louder. Outside, there is shouting. The shadow things are inside the enclave and coming close and closer. I look at the window and something dark slips through between the bars. A shadow thing! Another one comes under the door. Inside the bothan it is dark, but the shadow things are even darker. I jump backward and pull Aileen away.
“They’re here! They’re inside!” I say. We press with our backs against the wall. They are coming in, more of them now and coming closer to us. They slide over the walls and across the ceiling and the floor. We cannot stop them. I scream. They are going to get us. We cannot stop them.
There is a whoosh noise outside on the door and then smoke comes in. There is fire on the door. Someone made a fire on the door.
“I’m sorry,” a person shouts loud. “It was the only way. I have to go. I pray you get out safe.” It is Lileas’s mother Edme’s voice. It is her who made the fire on the door.
The shadow things inside are going around fast like they don’t know where to go. The door is a big fire now. It makes the shadow things go out of the window and away. That is the good thing. The bad thing is that the fire is coming in and we are trapped and it will burn us.
“What do we — do?” I ask to Aileen. “How do we get out?”
“Through the door,” she says. She steps forward and kicks the door hard. She kicks it again and again. There is fire on it, but she is still kicking it which means she is brave. Some of the wood in the middle breaks off and is cracked. It is so hot now. At first it was nice because I was cold and it made me warmer but now it is too hot. My face is all wet and I am sticky sweaty. Aileen stops kicking.
“That’s as much as I can do. We’re going to have to jump through,” she says.
“Jump through w-where?” I say. She cannot mean the door.
“The door,” she says. She does mean the door.
“But the door is fire!” I say. “It will burn me and I die.”
“We’ll be all right. We have to risk it now, before it spreads anymore. I’ve broken it a little; hopefully it will be enough.”
“No,” I say. It is a bad plan.
“We have to be brave. Can you be brave?”
Of course I can be brave. “Yes,” I say. “It is easy for me.”
“Good, then hold my hand.”
“Wait,” I say. I take Milkwort out of my pocket and hold him close to my chest with my other hand. I tell him he has to be brave too.
“After three,” she says. “One. Two. Three!”
We run forward together and jump into the fire door. It breaks when we hit it and we fall on the ground outside. Black is in my eyes and I cannot see. Milkwort nibbles on my thumb to show he is okay. Something smells of horrible burning. It is me.
“I’m on fire! I’m on fire!” Fire is on my cloak and in my hair. I hit my hair to put it out. It hurts hot on my hand. Please I do not want my hair to be fire.
“Roll on the grass,” says Aileen. She pushes me down. I roll like she says with my hands over Milkwort so he is not squished.
Please stop the fire, grass. I do not want to die with the fire.
“You’re all right; it’s out,” says Aileen.
I look all over myself to check that she is right and she is right. The fire is gone. Milkwort is not on fire too which is a big phew. He climbs onto my shoulder. My hair is a very not nice smell. I stroke it to make it pretty.
“Is my hair still — pretty?” I ask Aileen.
“Very pretty,” she says, and she smiles. I like it when she says that. “Now, come on, we need to get out of here.”
There are still shadow things near us. I know it because I can hear them. That is why Aileen takes some of the broken door with fire on it and gives a different piece to me. It is for the protection. I hold it in the air so there is light all around.
The Raasay people are not shouting anymore. All I can hear is the shadow things. Did they get everyone and they are dead?
“Look, Aggie,” says Aileen.
I look. There is a big fire on the other side of the enclave. I did not see it before. It is near the Gathering where we used to eat. Lots of people are stood next to it. I can’t see their faces, only dark people shapes. Some of them are smaller ones which are children. It is all the Raasay people. They did it what we said. They made the big fire and the shadow things didn’t get them.
“You did it,” says Aileen. “You saved them. All those people are alive because of you.” She is right and I am happy, I think. It is a bit confusing in my head what I am thinking. “Let’s get out of here before they find out we’ve escaped.”
That is a good plan. It is our enclave so we know where the Southern Gate is. We run there quickly. There is no one at the gate and no one on the wall either. They all ran away when the shadow things came is what I think. Aileen opens the gate.
The door piece I am holding is burning more and the fire is trying to get my hand. “It’s too h-hot,” I say. I hold it farther away from me.
“Wait here,” says Aileen. She runs off. I don’t know where she went. My hand is bad tingles. It’s going to burn me and I don’t want it. “Here, these are better.” Aileen is back. She doesn’t have her broken door wood anymore. She has two fire torches with fire on. They are meant for holding and are better. “The Moths used to keep these in the hollow. There was a stack of them still there.”
I knew that. I wish I remembered it before. Then I would have got them and Aileen would have said I was clever. I take the one Aileen gives me and throw away the broken door piece wood. It lands on the grass and the grass starts burning.
“Come on,” says Aileen. She grabs my hand and we run out of the gate.
We did it! We got away and the shadow things did not get us.
I look behind me at our enclave. The fire on the grass is spreading where I threw the broken door wood. I didn’t know it would make so much fire. Maybe it was a bad mistake. It is too late to stop it now.
I am so tired. We ran a long way. I’m not good at running. Also it was hard with holding the torch as well. Aileen said we had to keep running in case the Raasay people came after us. The running made me nearly be sick. After that, Aileen said we could walk as long as it was fast walking.
When the sun comes and it is day we put out the torches in a stream to make the fire go away and we drink some of the water. Aileen shows me how to do it with scooping hands. She does it good. When I try to do it, the water leaks through my fingers so I have to be so so quick before it all goes. I don’t know how Aileen does it so good.
“You must have holes in your fingers,” Aileen says.
I look at my fingers. They don’t have holes in them so she is wrong.
We sleep by the stream for a little bit but only for a little bit. Then Aileen says we have to go. We leave the torches by the river so it will be easier to walk. I am hungry but
we don’t have any food. I wish I was like Milkwort and could eat the grass. I pick some good ones for him to eat and he is happy. I am not happy because grass is not people food.
Whenever I say, “I’m hungry” Aileen says, “Hello, hungry, I’m Aileen.” It is a joke. I did not know it was a joke the first time and it made my face confused. Now I know it is a joke and I laugh. It does not stop me from being hungry though.
“Do you want to play a game?” says Aileen. “It might make the journey go quicker.”
“Okay,” I say. I like playing games.
We play a game called raonabal which is when you have to say a color and the other person has to do guessing. It is a game for children but I still like it. I go first and I say green and it is grass and Aileen guesses it first time.
“Too easy!” she says. Then it is her turn and she says blue.
“The sky,” I say. I think it will be sky because that is a big one.
“Nope,” says Aileen.
“The sea,” I say.
“Nope,” says Aileen.
Hmmm. It is a hard one. “A stone,” I say.
“A stone?” says Aileen, and she laughs.
“Sometimes stones can be blue,” I say. I know they are not really blue but I couldn’t think of another one.
“Well it’s not a ‘blue’ stone,” says Aileen. “Give up?”
“No,” I say. Then I think of a really good one. “A blue flower.”
“Still no . . .”
It is hard to think of more blue things.
“A person!” I say.
“What?” Aileen says. “You’re really scraping the barrel now!”
“No, a person. There.” I point to the trees where I saw the person.
Aileen stops smiling. She pulls me down and it hurts. “Quick, into the heather,” she says. We crawl to where the bushes are thicker. They smell of bark and prickle my face. “Who was it? Did they see us?”
The Broken Raven Page 9