Glass Swallow (24 page)

‘When I’ve decided how best to get her out of this.’

‘Many of us are willing to go with you. We like Rain. We know she means well.’

A murmur of agreement spread through the crowd.

Katia Falconer chose that moment to step up beside her son. ‘No one is going anywhere tonight. The girl has chosen her own path and asked us not to follow her.’ She held up the scrunched note Peri had discarded. ‘It’s time we stopped worrying about her and thought about ourselves. Stores are running low. We’ve got to get ready to move. We need to be somewhere to grow our own crops this summer and we’ve only a few weeks left before it’ll be too late to plant.’

‘But I don’t know anything about being a farmer!’ protested one butcher.

The discussion headed off on this new track, leaving the matter of Rain unresolved. Peri jumped down, leaving the stage to Katia. His mother could say what she liked; but he was not going to give up on Rain. First he was going to find her, then shake some sense into her, and if that failed, kiss her until she forgot anything but him.

Mikel was waiting for him. ‘So, what’s the plan, Peri?’ He also had taken no notice of Katia’s announcement.

‘Thanks to the start she has on us, our choices are pretty bad,’ admitted Peri, as Conal, Sly, and Bel gathered at his shoulder. ‘The best I can suggest is that we ride out under cover of darkness, camp out in the hills near the bandits’ headquarters and try to sneak in just before dawn when the guard will be least vigilant.’

‘Then what?’ asked Conal.

‘Pull them both out whether they want to come or not.’

‘I’ll saddle the horses,’ said Sly.

‘I’ll get Fletch,’ offered Bel.

Peri caught her arm. ‘No birds, not this time.’

Bel studied his face. ‘You think you might not come back. Peri, no! You can’t go.’

He gave a sigh and hugged her against him. Battered by Rain’s decision to walk out on him, he was feeling particularly vulnerable. ‘I’m sorry, Bel, but I can’t stay.’

‘Ma’s right: she’s bad for you.’ Bel’s loyalty to her new friend buckled now she saw she might lose her brother.

‘Don’t say that—Rain isn’t to blame for my choices.’

‘And you aren’t responsible for rescuing her from hers.’

‘Maybe not, but I can’t help myself. And there’s Ret to think about.’

Mikel led Nutmeg from the stable. ‘Come on, lad, let’s get going.’

‘Uh-oh,’ said Bel, pushing away from Peri as their father approached. ‘Too late.’

Peri braced himself for another confrontation, but Hern surprised him. He handed his son a sword then checked the fit of the girth on Nutmeg.

‘Don’t take unnecessary risks,’ Hern said gruffly, patting Peri on the back. ‘Only go in if you think there’s a real chance of rescuing them, promise me that.’

‘I promise.’ Peri swallowed against the lump in his throat.

‘Off you go, before your mother tries to stop you. She means well.’

‘I know. Tell her I’m sorry to worry her.’

Hern nodded. ‘I’ll close the gate behind you.’

‘H
ow do we find the bandits, Rain?’ Ret asked, taking an anxious glance at the sun which had just dropped below the hills. Long shad ows stretched across the road winding along the valley bottom. His feet were aching in a pair of Helgis’s ill-fitting shoes but he didn’t want to admit this to Rain who had walked without complaint for hours. She’d taken back the bundle when she had noticed him struggle.

‘Don’t worry, Ret, if I’m right, they’ll find us. You mustn’t be scared. If we don’t fight them, I doubt they’ll hurt us.’ At least that was what she was hoping. ‘If you like, you could wait here and I’ll go on. You can be my lookout.’ She wished he’d take this option so that at least she wouldn’t have to be concerned about him in what was to come.

‘No, Rain, we’re in this together,’ he said deter minedly.

Rain couldn’t help smiling. ‘You know, Ret, I think you would make a splendid Master given the chance.’

‘Thank you, Rain. I’m certainly learning a lot. I just didn’t realize.’

‘Realize what?’

‘That all this was out here—that my people were like Helgis and his family. I feel like I’ve been living in a box.’

‘And we took off the lid and tipped you out,’ finished Rain.

‘Yes. I should’ve done it myself.’

‘Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re twelve. At that age, I was only just thinking about what I wanted to do with my life. It’s when I made my first designs. I was lucky I had a father who paid attention.’

Ret kicked a stone. It bounced into a pothole and disappeared. ‘I only ever saw my father on state occasions. Everyone says he was a good Master.’

‘Maybe he was, but I think you’ll be even better.’

‘If I ever get the chance. It seems impossible that I’ll ever live in the palace again.’

Rain adjusted the loop of her bundle across her chest. ‘Is that why you’re here: to make that chance happen?’

‘Yes—and no. My people come first. I’m not sure it matters what happens to me.’ He sounded much older than his years, which didn’t seem right to Rain. Even a ruler deserved the chance to be a child. He shouldn’t be carrying the burdens of the world all the time.

‘Of course, it matters!’ Rain took his hand, swinging it to and fro playfully. ‘You may not have had anyone to pay attention to you, but I’m here now. Think of me as your big sister.’

‘Like Bel?’

‘Yes, like her.’

He responded to her teasing tone. ‘Does that mean you’ll pull my ears like she does to Helgis?’

She gave the nearest one a tweak. ‘Absolutely.’

They both laughed, and so didn’t notice the bandit patrol until the two men stepped out on the road before them.

‘Glad someone’s happy in Magharna,’ grunted the first man, holding out a staff to block their passage. Rain stepped in front of Ret, gesturing him to keep back.

‘Either that or they’re mad—I vote for that,’ commented the second, beckoning Rain to drop her bundle. ‘Must be, if they’ve come here. What’ve you got in there, girl?’

Rain took a calming breath, knowing that how this conversation went would decide whether or not they got their interview with Krital.

‘A gift for your leader.’

‘That’s a new one.’ The one with the staff looked her over contemptuously. ‘Everyone gives all they’ve got to Krital whether they like it or not. What’s with the hair, girl? Have an accident with the curling irons?’ He flicked the staff towards her.

‘I’m not from your country. I’ve met your leader before. I’ve made something special for him.’

The man stared at her, searching for an elusive memory. He tapped her lightly on the chest, pushing her backwards. ‘You’re the foreigner—the one caught in the raid six months ago?’

Rain stilled. She had told herself if she was to do this she had to prepare herself for meeting men who had shed her cousin’s blood, but face to face with one of them it was hard to disguise her revulsion.

‘Krital said you got away from him—something about a bolting horse and a falcon man. He was in a foul mood for weeks after.’

Rain gave him a brittle smile. ‘There you are—I’ve come back and I have something to cheer him up.’ Her bravado sounded hollow to her but the man was impressed.

‘Is that so? Well then, little foreigner, let’s see what he makes of your gift. Follow me.’

The bandit led them further up the valley, leaving his companion to guard the way. The efficiency of the watch on the road confirmed Rain’s view that these bandits did indeed have the discipline needed in Rolvint. She took Ret’s hand and squeezed it, partly to comfort him, but also to bolster her own spirits.

The climb up from the road was steep, following an old stone track used to transport the slate down the mountainside. When they emerged on the plateau, Rain saw that the area around the abandoned mine had been transformed since she had last laid eyes on it. The level ground where wagons had once waited in line to transport the slate to market now bristled with new buildings, many of them little more than shacks hastily thrown together, but two or three of the dwellings looked more permanent. The bandit led her to the largest of these, a long low hall with smoke curling from the centre of the roof, though even this was dwarfed by the mountain peak looming above the mine encampment, a black shadow against the starlit sky. Their escort pushed open the double doors, revealing a crowded chamber. Food was laid out on trestle tables; men and women lounged at their ease while serving maids passed among them with trays of tankards. The mood was boisterous but good humoured. The most objectionable thing to Rain was the smell: the rushes on the floor hadn’t been changed for weeks and it appeared that washing wasn’t high on the agenda for any of the brigands. Krital hadn’t set his sights very high if he was content to reign over this bunch.

They proceeded through the crowd, heading for the table nearest the fire. Rain was grateful that they did not attract much attention, giving her time to prepare what she had to say. Her eyes were locked on Krital who was seated in the centre, feet up on the board. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, watching the smoke winding its way out of the hole in the roof. An attractive woman wearing a bright yellow jettan robe, spoils of a raid on a convoy, perched on the arm of the chair beside him, trying to amuse him with her conversation, but it was not going as she had hoped; Krital’s face was stony, his expression one of boredom. Two muscular men stood behind him, arms folded, on hand to prevent anyone taking their leader unawares. Krital understood that a man who had earned his place by violence could expect more of the same to be dealt out to him.

‘Boss!’ called the guard as they came within earshot. ‘I found something of yours on the road.’

Krital turned his eagle-eyed gaze on the newcomers; his fist, which had been propping up his square jaw, dropped to the arm of his chair, dislodging his companion. ‘The girl.’

The room fell silent as those nearby realized that something interesting was happening at the top table.

‘Aye. She says she’s got something for you.’ The guard beckoned Rain forward. She stepped nervously into the space between the table and the fire, feeling the flames hot on her back, the hostile looks of the yellow-robed woman. She sensed rather than saw Ret keeping close, alert for any threat to her.

‘What are you doing here, chestnut?’ Krital asked, his eyes narrowed in calculation. ‘Are things so bad in the city that you thought you’d do better with me, even though you know I’ll enslave you?’

Rain decided it was best to ignore this threat. It was unlikely that markets still existed for the sale of bonded labour; he was probably just testing her.

‘I … er … I actually came to give you something.’ She wished she was more eloquent but nerves were getting in the way and her fluency in Magharnan faltering.

Krital raised a black eyebrow. His hair was as short as ever, but instead of his black skull cap, he wore one of red velvet like a splash of blood on his scalp. He would have won no beauty contests with his mashed nose, hard-beaten features, and mud-brown eyes narrowed in suspicion, but there was no doubt that he was in command here.

‘Everyone gives me things—with or without their agreement,’ he said coldly.

‘But I imagine no one has ever made something specially for you.’ Rain shook out the contents of her bag and held up the roll of canvas. ‘Don’t you want to see?’

He waved a hand towards her. ‘Why not.’

Rain was now grateful that she had the fire behind her. Gripping the top of the mobile, she let the rest shake into place, revealing the rich colours of the leaping horse, the image of the one he had ridden away from the raid on her convoy.

Krital sat up in his chair, his boredom forgotten. ‘You made this?’

‘Yes.’ She bit her lip nervously. Did he not like it?

‘For me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’ His brows drew together in a frown.

‘It’s a kind of … ’ she searched for a word to explain, ‘a kind of peace offering.’

‘That makes no sense. Why risk your freedom in bringing it here?’