Glass Swallow (19 page)

‘What do we do about him?’ asked Conal, jerking his head at the Master.

‘Take him with us, of course,’ answered Rain before anyone else could reply. ‘You can’t stay here, Master; surely you can see that?’

The boy glanced at the hostile faces of his lowliest subjects, then back at Rain, her eyes alive with concern for him. ‘You think it best?’

‘Definitely.’ She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

‘They have food?’

‘We have food,’ promised Peri.

‘Then yes.’ Mind made up, the boy rustled through the rags and pulled out a bundle. ‘I’ll come.’

T
he disturbance that prompted Sly to clash together the cooking pot lids proved to be a large group of looters approaching from the gates. They were carrying weapons and towing empty handcarts in anticipation of making off with anything they could find.

Assessing that they only had a minute to spare before the invaders reached the courtyard, Peri quickly lifted the boy on to Conal’s horse.

‘Who’s this?’ asked Sly.

‘The Master,’ Peri replied.

‘You’re joking, right?’

‘No, I’m deadly serious. Hurry.’ Peri realized that the main approach was impassible with so many after easy pickings. Horses were too valuable to let pass. ‘Is there another way out?’ he asked the boy.

The Master nodded and tugged a chain out from around his neck. On the end hung a gold pentagonal disc.

‘This is the key to a gate on the river side of the palace. It goes down to my private landing stage. There’s a barge there.’ His face took on a stubborn cast. ‘That’s if the jettan families left it when they fled.’

‘It’s better than trying to ride three valuable horses through that lot,’ said Conal, jerking his head at the approaching crowd. ‘If there’s no barge, we can always wait down there until they’ve gone.’

There was no time for further debate. The double-mounted horses trotted swiftly away from the looters, following a path that wound through the gardens. Once they emerged from the cover of the trellis fence, they heard a shout behind. The looters had seen them. Peri urged Nutmeg to pick up his pace. Anxiety spiking, Rain clung on to his waist like a limpet.

‘Don’t worry, sweetheart: I won’t let them catch us,’ Peri said confidently.

She wished she felt so certain; instead she pressed her head to his back and closed her eyes, accepting that she had no control over what would happen next. With the boy’s directions they reached the gate without losing their way in the gardens. Peri handed the reins to Rain and slipped off. When he reached the ground, the boy tossed him the key. The gate was a smaller version of the ones leading from the city, the pentagon crafted to fill a leaf-shaped keyhole near the handle. He pressed it into place, finding it fitted snugly in the mechanism, and opened the gate with hardly a sound. Wasting no time, Conal and Sly urged their horses through the portal. Peri took Nutmeg’s bridle and guided him safely over the narrow threshold so he could lock the gate behind them. When he mounted, the other two horses were already out of sight—welcome news as their pursuers had not given up. He could see people running through the trees headed in their direction, and the fence, though tall, would not stop a really determined man from scaling it. Peri remounted and dug his heels in. Nutmeg clattered down the steep gravel path, hooves struggling to find purchase on the sliding surface. Peri dared not make him go any faster for fear of taking a spill. Rain’s grip was painfully tight around his waist but he said nothing, understanding she was terrified and unaware that she was hurting him.

The path wound to and fro down the river cliff until it levelled out on a wooden landing stage floating in the river. The platform was huge, built for state ceremonies and capable of harbouring many vessels. All the moorings were empty, bar one. A gold painted barge remained tethered in the central berth, the celebratory flags hanging limply from the striped awning that protected the throne in its centre.

Peri tapped Rain’s hand. ‘You can let go,’ he murmured, relaxing a little now the immediate danger had passed.

‘Oh, sorry.’

‘You’ve probably given me bruises. I didn’t realize how strong you are.’

She rubbed the heel of her palm over his stomach in a quick gesture of apology before slipping off Nutmeg.

‘Oh, don’t stop: I was enjoying that.’

‘Don’t push your luck, falcon man: I’m not that sorry,’ she said tartly.

Biting back her own smile, Rain joined the boy as he stood gazing at his barge. ‘How do you sail it?’ she asked.

‘I can’t imagine why they left it. They’ve taken everything else.’ The boy shook his head in disbelief.

‘They probably left the blooming thing because they couldn’t move it.’ Mikel kicked at the rope tying it to the bank. ‘I can’t see no oars.’

‘It doesn’t have oars. My bondsmen use long poles to push it along.’ The boy searched the dock as if expecting them to materialize out of thin air.

‘Can’t see no poles neither,’ grumbled Mikel. ‘We’re stuck. Blinking stupid idea to come down here in the first place.’

Sly, who had been watching the path up to the garden gate, gave a shout:

‘Peri, we’ve got company!’ He drew his sword. ‘They’ve climbed the fence.’

Peri quickly calculated their chances. They were cornered unless they could escape by river. Perhaps they could fight off the looters but he didn’t want to risk Rain, Mikel, and the boy getting hurt.

‘Put the horses on the barge,’ he ordered Conal as he ran to take up a defensive position with Sly where the path opened on to the landing stage. ‘We’ll let the river take us out of here. Mikel, see if you can find something we can use to steer that thing.’

Shifting the wide gangplank lying on the deck into place, Rain helped Conal guide the nervous horses on to the barge. Fortunately, it was built for transporting large groups of courtiers so had plenty of room on the wide flat stage in front of the throne. The boy stood watching, not making a move to help.

Rain was left holding Nutmeg and Sly’s mount as Conal went back for the last.

‘Master, I could really do with your help here,’ she called.

The boy stirred, surprised by the request. ‘You need me to work?’

Mikel gave him a shove in the small of his back as he passed by. ‘She needs you to help save your own blinking skin, young ’un.’

The boy was too amazed by the manner in which they were speaking to him to do anything but obey. He took one set of reins from Rain and stroked Nutmeg’s nose soothingly.

‘I’ve never touched a horse like this before,’ he admitted.

‘I bet you’ve never been allowed to do many things,’ said Rain. ‘Horses are wonderful, aren’t they?’

‘Yes, they are.’

The barge rocked as the final horse stepped on board. Rain twisted round anxiously as sounds of a scuffle broke out behind her. Sly and Peri were fighting now, driving back the first of the looters.

‘Get that barge moving!’ yelled Peri.

Mikel untied the ropes and shoved off from the landing stage using a plank he had ripped up to propel them out into the current. Conal pushed off at the front.

‘We can’t leave them!’ protested Rain.

‘We’re not. They’ll catch up.’ Mikel slotted the plank awkwardly into a V-shaped steering column at the stern of the vessel, letting it trail in the water as an improvised rudder.

When Peri and Sly judged the barge had gained enough distance from the bank, they abandoned their station and sprinted down the landing stage. Rain watched in horror as the gap widened between barge and land. They wouldn’t reach them in time—and they already had looters on their tail.

She gripped Mikel’s arm. ‘Go back! They won’t make it!’

‘I can’t. The river’s got us now. Let’s just hope the lads can swim.’

Together, Peri and Sly reached the verge of the landing stage and leapt. They landed on the deck but nearly tumbled back into the water as the barge rocked dangerously. Peri grabbed hold of Mikel as Sly grasped Conal’s shirt, all just missing a bath in the Rol. Behind them, men poured on to the bank, yelling insults and hurling anything they could lay their hands on. Rain dragged the boy down behind the throne, covering his head with her arms as missiles pinged around them like a hail storm.

‘You would think the horses were theirs,’ muttered Conal, shielding Sniff from a stone cast in their direction.

‘So they’re not after me?’ asked the boy in a voice that couldn’t quite hide his fear.

‘’Fraid not, your holiness,’ said Mikel. ‘Boys are two a penny, horses mean gold.’ He swore colourfully as a piece of wood spun through the air and slapped his arm.

‘Oh.’ The Master slumped against the side of the barge and smiled at Rain—the first she’d seen on his face. ‘That’s … that’s a relief.’

The looters gave up throwing things once the barge had drifted into mid stream. The Rol flowed faster than it appeared on the surface, a great sheet of silver-grey satin winding round the low cliffs, once-beautiful mansions on their crest like a diamond tiara. The other side of the river was taken up with farmland which looked peaceful compared to the chaos that ruled the city. Rain could even see a farmer scattering seed in his field, his back to the problems across the Rol. Protected today by half a mile of river, Rain wondered how long it would be before the trouble found its way across to blight the farmer’s land too.

Rain turned her attention back to the most recent problem they had harvested from the palace. ‘Do you have a name?’ she asked the boy as they sat side by side at the foot of the throne.

‘I’m the Master,’ he replied automatically.

‘We realize that. But before you became him, what did you call yourself?’

‘They called me Master-in-waiting.’

Rain wasn’t ready to give up yet. ‘Surely your mother didn’t name you that?’

The boy’s tawny eyes shifted to a puzzled expression. ‘My mother? I never saw her. The jettans and priests were responsible for my upbringing.’

In Rain’s opinion, they’d done a terrible job: giving him no life beyond the role prescribed for him then dumping him at the first sign of trouble.

‘It might be easier if you have a name of your own,’ she suggested gently. ‘People might find it odd to come face to face with someone they think is a god only to find he’s a boy.’

‘But I am of the heavens,’ the boy said with absolute certainty.

Peri had been listening in on the conversation. It beggared belief: the one he had always thought of as all powerful was in many ways the most vulnerable person he had ever met. ‘Rain’s right, your holiness. My family will find it easier to accept you if you disguise yourself to come among us ordinary people.’

The boy didn’t look convinced.

‘Remember the story of the Master and the blacksmith’s bride?’ Peri continued, recalling an old Magharnan folk tale of how the Master had attended the wedding of a worthy citizen incognito, turning the anvil gold with his royal touch.

‘Of course. I know all the tales about me.’

‘Then imagine this is like one of them. You’ll need a name for us to use.’

The boy crinkled his nose. ‘What’s your name?’

Peri told him before going on to introduce the rest of the party. ‘But you can’t have our names. It’s got to be one of your own.’

‘Retsam,’ suggested Rain. She shrugged at their bemused looks. ‘It’s master backwards. Just a thought.’

The boy tested it out. ‘I like it. Retsam.’

‘Blooming daft name if you ask me,’ interjected Mikel, adjusting the course of the drifting vessel.

‘I didn’t ask you, bondsman.’ The boy raised his brows when Rain started to giggle. ‘What did I say?’

‘I think you just made Mikel’s day,’ she explained. ‘He always knew no one wanted his opinion and it’s just been confirmed by the Master.’

‘By Retsam,’ the boy corrected her. ‘But perhaps you could call me Ret?’ He looked up at her through his lashes. ‘That’s what my friends call me.’

‘Ret,’ she repeated, her smile dazzling.

Peri shook his head at this byplay. If the Master wasn’t careful, he was in danger of developing a serious crush on the little glassmaker. Peri couldn’t blame him. Rain’s compassion for everyone glowed like light passing through a lamp mantle. She made them all behave like better people just by sharing that brightness with them.