Read The Wilful Eye Online

Authors: Isobelle Carmody

Tags: #Young Adult Fiction

The Wilful Eye (31 page)

BOOK: The Wilful Eye
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Soldier just looked at her. He knew it was not good to sit in rubbish, but he was suddenly too tired to move.

‘You're a fleed boy aren't you? It's all right. I'm not going to trade on you.'

Soldier stared at her, blinking. She seemed kind, but he couldn't understand why she would want to help him.

‘Look, I got a cart over there, full of fruit. If you're hungry you can have some. If you need money, you can help me unload.' She was small. Soldier could tell this by the way she had pulled herself up to peep into the bin. She looked down on him with two pale grey eyes, which stared with a blank weariness, a sort of hard look, not like Meegey's. She spoke gruffly and wore a ragged frown. Her hair was hidden under a scarf. She reached her arm towards him. It was a small arm, thin wrist, pale skin covered in freckles. Soldier looked at the arm but hauled himself out.

‘Don't worry about my foot. I can still work,' he said.

She glanced at his foot. ‘Well first you're going to need some clean dry clothes or you'll catch a cold. Here, I'll give you four groats in advance and you go get some clothes and then come back here to work.' She shoved the silver coins into his hand and closed his fingers around them. Her own clothes were simple but clean, not ragged like her frown. Her voice had a plain steady sound, not soothing or leaping, no place for lies to be hiding in it. But why would she be giving him her money? How could she know to trust him? Soldier began to shake again. He said, ‘I don't know where to get clothes.'

‘Over at Apple Annie's. Just down the road, where the red sign is. She has all sorts and they don't cost much. Used already. Go on then, before you get a chill.'

Soldier turned and walked away. Now he had coins and the keys and someone to work for. He'd never had so much. He almost sauntered as he walked, pretended that for a minute there was nothing else to think about, nothing he had just done, nowhere he had escaped from and no one coming after him.

Soldier showed his coins to the woman who stood behind the counter.

‘Is this enough for some new clothes?'

She was a shrivelled sort of a woman, draped in layers of colours and tied with ribbons and fastened with flowers and jewels. She glanced at him shrewdly, chewed over her thoughts, and walked across to where a large square basket sat in a corner.

‘You stink, you know. You better be quick. Don't want you scaring away the customers. Here, these are our slip-ups. You can choose some pants and a vest here. They are only one brass coin each.'

She pointed to a curtain. ‘You can change in there.'

Once he was dressed she gave him a sly smile and whistled, showing him a mirror.

‘Go on then. You look better, have a look.'

Soldier had never seen his own reflection. He stood face to face with a stranger, a young man in fine clothes. It was hard to make this reflection feel as if it was the person Soldier knew from inside. He felt like a stranger to himself. He saw he was slight and full of hollows and bones, there was no natural ruddiness or vigour, only the darkness of the room like a veil over all his features, his skin not dissimilar to a turnip in colour, a thing that has grown underground, eyes sunk like dark bruises in the skin. But, despite all that, he was not ugly, and his eyes were green and had a look in them, a floating far-away softness. Soldier tried to change it. He squinted. He smiled. But it was still there. It was him. Glazed with hope and weariness, stung with the force of this freedom and still lank with the filth of captivity, there he was, as good and fine as anyone now that he had some fine clothes. He smiled again, and then he turned sideways and saw that she was watching him and he felt ashamed of himself, admiring his own face like that. He turned away and mumbled his thanks and she laughed at his embarrassment.

As he made his way back, he felt there was a heat in his body. There were aches too. A fever. Did he have the phoidus? If he did, he thought, he had to hurry. There were two things he wanted to do first, before it came upon him. He wanted to make sure Meegey and the rest were free and then he wanted to find the girl in the green dress. He remembered when Gollub had entered, and how he had seen the light shimmering behind him, but he could not remember if Gollub had locked the door or just slammed it, for if he had locked it, they would all be trapped in there together. What would have happened then? Gollub facing all of them and the way they hated him, the way he had used them for his own sport, as if their lives were worth nothing, as if they were as dispensable as a stale loaf of bread. They would have buried him in their fury of fear and rage. But they would need to be set free. He had to go soon. And then to the castle. First, though, he owed the woman her work.

She was not surprised that he had returned and she didn't seem to mind that he was quiet. She led him to her cart and showed him the fruit.

‘You hungry? I bet you are. Here, have a peach. Or d'you want an apricot?'

‘Do you have cherries?'

She laughed and when she did, the ragged frown disappeared and her face showed the beauty that the frown had hidden. It was as if she was too tired now to shine at all, but had once, and there were traces of it still in her features. ‘It isn't cherry season. Not yet. Here, the peaches are good.' She tossed him one. ‘You like cherries, do you?'

‘I never tried one.' Soldier held the peach in his hand, admired the soft fuzzy skin and put it first to his nose and then to his mouth. His first mouthful he chewed slowly, so he could savour the sweetness, bending his head so she would not see on his face how good it was for him and how he had never tasted anything like it.

‘Never?' She shook her head. He didn't tell her that he'd never tried any fruits, not peaches or apricots or pears or anything. He knew about them, the same way he knew about women, from the talk in the tower. Sometimes there was a conversation about what you would eat if you ever got out. What would be the first thing? Meegey said he'd have an ale, Finney said watermelon, Hinto said pecan pie. Soldier always said cherries. It used to be what Rasser wanted and when he didn't come back, Soldier took his thing to want. He never had his own thing 'cause he couldn't remember anything to want, except his mother's shawl. Though now he remembered he also had the girl in the green dress.

‘Do you know a castle round here? Near the sewer?' The woman had lifted the shafts of the cart and they were walking up the street. She said, rather quickly, ‘I know the castle.' She drew a quick breath. ‘What's your name?'

‘Soldier.'

‘Well, I'm Satcho.' She didn't talk about the castle, just stopped and put the cart down and gave him a crate of peaches. It seemed she didn't want to talk about it, she wanted to skip over it in a great hurry and turn in another direction. They went into the shop, each carrying a crate of peaches. The woman who ran it had a big bosom and a booming voice.

‘Got a new boy?' she said, nodding at Soldier. Then she put her hand to her mouth and whispered at him, ‘Satcho's a good woman. You're a lucky boy.'

Meegey always said he'd be lucky. And now he was. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and his face felt hot.

‘He needs a bath and a good supper. Skinny little tyke, he is. Does he speak?'

‘He speaks but he never tasted a cherry,' declared Satcho.

‘Bless him, where's he been then? Where have you been pet?' Satcho went out to the cart. The woman winked at Soldier; she didn't seem to care whether he answered her or not. ‘You should keep with her; she'll treat you better than any of the other carters would. She's the only woman who does it. The rest are men, but Satcho works hard as any man. She has to.'

‘Why?'

The woman's eyes bulged. She folded her arms across her large bosom. ‘Why? Because her husband and her son were taken.'

‘Taken where?'

She put her hand to her mouth to whisper again and Soldier could tell she enjoyed spreading bad news, but she stopped and gulped it down as Satcho came back in and Soldier had to leave without finding out. The world was full of secrets, he thought. Sad secrets.

It was true that Satcho worked hard. As they went about their business, she seemed as curious about him as he was about her. She asked him where his parents were. He told her he had a father and his name was Meegey and he was away on some business. He asked her if she had children and she blinked and her face went blank and then she said, ‘I have a daughter.'

Soldier wondered if she knew that he was not quite telling the truth just as he knew she wasn't quite telling the truth, yet neither of them was telling a bad lie, they were just holding close what was theirs. When did you trust someone to hold a truth as carefully as you did? As the day wore on he felt worse and worse. He was sweating with the fever and began to think he would have to go soon, yet he also felt he wanted to help Satcho. She seemed so small and worn out by her secrets, as if the only thing she had left was a little nut of determination, which showed in her frowning solemn eyes. Still, soon he would have little strength left and he had to get to the tower and the castle before . . .
Before what?
he thought, and then he stopped. He did not want to think about what was coming, what sort of sickness was in him.

‘Satcho, I have to go to the castle soon. Do you know the one I mean? Can you tell me the way?'

She stopped and put down the cart with a sigh. ‘There's only one castle here, Soldier. Look up there and see that red flag with the eagle on it. That's the top of the castle.'

He could see it.

‘And listen, Soldier. I know something about that castle. There are two guards there. One of them is a bad man. You'll know him 'cause he's big and he'll talk to you in a friendly way. He'll seem friendly enough, offer to help you even, whereas the other won't be friendly at all. Don't trust the big one. Talk only to the one who doesn't want to talk to you. Otherwise you'll be in danger.'

‘How do you know so much?'

She frowned and seemed suddenly sad.

‘Same way you do.' Her eyes locked on his. Soldier didn't know what she meant since he knew nothing of the world; he'd never even tasted a peach before. And why did she seem frightened? He frowned. He felt unsettled and unsure and almost cross that she should be looking at him with a mysterious urgency, as if she expected him to tell her something, too.

‘I never even tasted a peach. I know nothing,' he said lightly and stepped away from her gaze. ‘I'm looking for a princess. Do you know one who lives in the castle?'

Now Satcho frowned and turned to go. She muttered, ‘There is a princess but I have heard she is vain and cruel. Rid your heart of her, if she is what draws you.' She threw her arm out in a gesture of riddance, then she bade him goodbye and good luck and seemed suddenly eager to leave. Soldier watched her walk away.

It was not far to the castle, and it was easy to find, being so much taller than the other houses with the red flag on the top flapping its point in the air. Soldier looked up to the west side of the castle where the sewer ran and he could see on the other side the tower, which must once have been part of the castle. He recognised the window on it. He stopped and gazed up at it, to see it as everyone else saw it, from the outside. But he couldn't see it like everyone else, he could not look at it without his gut turning and tears coming to his eyes. He walked closer, he walked fast, wiping his tears and tramping over everyone and everything. He tramped Gollub into the dust, and the unjust gods and the dirty fighting guards, the traders and owners, the filthy river with its muddy poison and the dimly lit room with its thick stone walls and then even the townsfolk in their fine clothes, eating their plump red cherries and holding their own children close.

And then he was tired. His joints ached and he was thirsty. He stopped his tramping. As he got closer he slipped his hand into his pocket and fingered the key. He heard someone crying. It was a sound he knew. A familiar tired convulsive sobbing.

‘Finney?' he whispered. ‘Finney, it's me, Soldier.' He leaned over the stone wall that banked the path to the castle and saw Finney lying, curled up in a ball, as if in bed. He climbed the wall and squatted down. Finney stared up at him, red-eyed and pale, as if he was not sure if he was dreaming. Then he sat up and grinned.

‘We thought you died.'

‘Well, Finney, I'm not dead yet, but now don't come close 'cause I got some sickness in the sewer and I wouldn't want you to catch it. Tell me what happened. What are you doing here all alone? Where's Meegey?'

Finney gave a little cry and looked like he was about to plunge back into his sobbing. But he sniffed and straightened.

‘When Gollub pushed you, he came back from the window and he grabbed me, with his arm round my neck, so tight I could hardly breathe, and he said if anyone came near him he would break my neck and like that he started to back out the door. So Meegey said he would go instead of me. Gollub said not unless Meegey was handcuffed, which he did. So Gollub took Meegey and he said if anyone followed, the guards down below would take their swords to them. But there were no guards down below. After a while Calloot and Jacka went down and they came back and they were shining, they said we were free, there was no one there. So everyone ran, and Diffan took me down and told me to stay here while he went to find Meegey and he said he would come back as soon as he could.' Finney gazed up at Soldier timidly. He lowered his eyes and murmured, ‘You set everyone free, Soldier.'

BOOK: The Wilful Eye
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Heartbreaker by Susan Howatch
A Broken Bond by Stacey Kennedy
Rage Factor by Chris Rogers
Thirsty by Sanders, Mike
The Ethical Engineer by Harry Harrison
The Psalter by Galen Watson
Death of an English Muffin by Victoria Hamilton
High Gun at Surlock (2006) by Bowers, Terrell L


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024