Authors: Julia Golding
And there—perfect! A falcon corkscrewed in the sky above. That would go in the window too: the creature in harmony with the wild land it ruled from on high.
A scream rent the air. Confused, Rain looked to the bird, wondering if it was a falcon cry she had heard.
‘Take cover!’ shouted the rear guard.
Cover? Cover from what? And where?
Before she could react, her mare whinnied in pain and bolted across the open ground. Thrown backwards, Rain reached wildly behind her to grip on to the saddle and her hand brushed the feathers of an arrow planted in the horse’s flank. With a toss of her head, the mare ripped the reins from her rider’s fingers. Rain felt herself slide. She grabbed her saddlebag to stop herself falling but to no avail. The strap holding the leather sack snapped and Rain went flying. With a painful thump, she ended up on her back on the grass, still holding the bag, but the horse was fast disappearing back the way they had come.
Overhead the falcon circled once then sped off eastwards. Rain knew she had to move but she was stunned by the fall, her hip throbbing where she had made contact with a stone. Lucky it hadn’t been her head.
The clash of weapons brought the urgency of her situation back to her. Rolling on to her knees, she crawled to the shelter of a large rock and peeped out at what was happening on the road. The guard around the ambassador, thinned by the volley of arrows, fought at close-quarters with scores of hooded men. Dressed in the green of the hillside, more and more rose up from the grass, overwhelming the escort with their numbers. The bandits concentrated their attack on liberating the baggage train from the column, killing anyone who got in their way. She picked up a stone, meaning to bombard their attackers, but she was too far away. Bile rising in her throat, Rain watched helplessly as Shadow was cut down as he tried to protect his belongings from a pair of thieves. Once he tumbled from his horse, they took his mount, loading it with loot, not sparing a glance for their victim. Next to fall was the ambassador, an arrow in his throat. His wife’s screams reverberated in the gully before she too went down, a shaft sticking from her back.
‘Oh no, oh no,’ moaned Rain, rocking herself in horror. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this crude outburst of violence in broad daylight on a foreign road. She covered her head with her hands, fist still clutching the stone, praying she would just disappear, leave this scene of blood and go home.
What seemed hours later, the noise of fighting ceased, replaced by the shouts of men arguing over spoils, cursing each other or laughing.
Maybe they’ll just go
, she told herself. She couldn’t deal with the fact that everyone she had been with for the last few weeks was probably dead. She refused to even think about it.
A man shouted behind her. A fist grabbed her hair and pulled her up. Rain screamed and swung round to face a bald man with a thin black beard, letting the stone fly in a wild throw. It glanced off his cheek and he shook her as he continued to yell in her face, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. He dragged her towards the road, snatching her bag from the ground. The other bandits looked up from their job of stripping the dead and hooted.
‘Caught yourself a warrior, Morg?’ jeered one.
Rain shuddered—she didn’t understand many words of Magharnan but she grasped that she was being discussed.
‘I told you there was someone spying on us,’ Rain’s captor retorted. ‘I could feel it in my bones. I’m taking her to the captain.’
Morg thrust Rain into the presence of the leader of the bandit army. A big man with stubbly hair, the crown of his head covered with a black skull cap, arms bare and leather jerkin blood-splattered, he was making himself at home on the thoroughbred horse so recently ridden by the ambassador. At war with the state that had booted him out to a life of banditry, the bandit leader was not averse to enjoying the luxuries his old persecutors had once owned.
‘Krital, look what I found,’ Morg shouted. ‘She was watching us from over there.’ He jerked his head toward the rocks where Rain had sheltered.
Rain was shaking so hard she wouldn’t have been able to stand if the bandit hadn’t been gripping her arm.
The leader eyed the girl curiously. ‘Who is she?’
Morg shrugged. ‘I dunno. She doesn’t seem to understand Magharnan. Can I keep her?’
‘Where from, girl?’ The bandit asked the question in the few words of Common he’d picked up in Port Bremis. Rain’s eyes flew to his face as she realized she could understand him.
‘Holt,’ she whispered. Her gaze strayed to the bodies of the guard piled around them. The bandits paid them no heed, far more interested in the spoils than the dead.
‘Never heard of it. On own?’
‘I’m with my cousin.’ She put her hand to her mouth and bit hard to stop herself screaming: she had just spotted Shadow. His body lay only a short distance from where she stood. His clothes were covered in blood and he was very still so she had to give up any hope that he had survived. ‘Why did you have to kill everyone?’ The horrified question slipped out before she could stop herself.
Krital shrugged as if the answer was obvious. ‘We kill when men fight back. You going fight?’
She shook her head quickly.
He gave her a ghastly smile. ‘I thought not.’
The bandit who held her arm lost interest in the conversation he didn’t understand and decided to explore the contents of her bag instead. He up-ended it, tipping her few clothes, papers, and charcoal out on the road. Toeing through it, he grunted in disgust. He then tugged her necklace off, spilling the teardrops into the dirt when he realized they were only glass.
‘Nothing of worth,’ he complained to the leader.
Krital hadn’t taken his eyes off the little foreigner, intrigued by her colouring: she would make someone an exotic pet slave. ‘I’ll buy her off you,’ he said coolly, not wanting his man to see how much he wanted the girl as that would raise the price. ‘You don’t really need another bondswoman, true?’
Morg pushed Rain to her knees and indicated that she should gather her belongings together. In a daze, she fumbled to collect the beads and put them in the pack with the rest of her things. ‘All right, I’ll swap. You can never have enough horses.’
Krital frowned. Even he had limits to what he was prepared to give for her. ‘Not this one. You can have that one over there.’ He pointed to Shadow’s piebald.
Morg wasn’t really bothered which one he got. ‘Thanks. She’s yours then. But I don’t think you’ll get much work out of her.’
‘The dealers pay for novelties and you have to admit they’ll never have seen hair like hers. There are jettan families who will pay well for a housegirl they can boast about to their neighbours, true?’
‘Yeah, true.’ But Morg had lost interest, busy examining his horse.
Krital dismounted and approached Rain. She moved back a step before realizing there was nowhere to go. Krital pulled the ribbon off the end of her braid and shook it out. ‘Look, it’s like a chestnut’s tail: beautiful.’ He gave Morg a mocking bow. ‘I’m more than pleased with my bargain.’ He picked Rain up by the waist and placed her on the ambassador’s horse. ‘Let’s go, little one.’
P
eri arrived too late to be of any use to the victims of the bandits. He watched from the upper slopes of the crag as the thieves stripped the bodies of all valuables. There were more outlaws each day, men who, having lost their jobs, were thrown out of the cities with no way of making a living for themselves and their families. From his vantage point high over the road, Peri recognized the big man who had made himself leader of this irregular army: Krital, famous for his wrestler’s build and crafty mind. He was the magnet bringing the others to hunt on the road to the capital. Peri decided to wait until the bandits cleared out, then he would go and see if there were any survivors.
Rogue circled round the battlefield, his hunting instincts sent wild by the sight of blood on the ground. Glancing upwards, Peri feared that his falcon might give away his position. He drew the lure out of his backpack and cast it on the grass, hoping he could recapture the bird before anyone noticed it. Rogue went straight for it, plunging from the sky to pounce on the rabbit meat, allowing Peri to hood him.
‘Keep still,’ he murmured soothingly. ‘What’s down there isn’t for you.’
When he looked back to the road, the situation had changed for the worse. A girl had survived the attack and was being haggled over by Krital and another man; she looked tiny, smaller than his sister, Bel. While Peri was not going to risk himself for dead bodies, he drew the line at watching them harm the girl. But there were too many bandits for him to stand a chance against them; he would have to wait until they broke up to return to their hideout.
Krital took off on his horse with the girl in front of him. He was heading on his own towards the capital, which meant he would have to follow the road round the hill to cross the river in the next valley. That gave Peri an idea: if he could get to the bridge first, he could waylay the bandit leader. With only the two of them, he might even have an advantage as he had Rogue with him.
Peri scrambled down the far slope, holding Rogue clear of the tumbling stones. He ran for Nutmeg and leapt into the saddle, urging the gelding into a canter. He steered with his knees as he loosened the dagger from his saddle pack. Rogue screeched—though hooded, he could sense that his master was disturbed.
‘Hush now, we don’t want them to know we’re ahead of them,’ said Peri soothingly.
They clattered across the ford. Peri slid off Nutmeg and urged the horse to go on out of sight round the bend. There was a patch of grass there that he often grazed so Peri had no fear that he would wander too far.
‘Right, my beauty, time for you to earn your keep.’ Peri took the hood off the falcon. Rogue mantled his wings, a loose feather flying as he tried to escape, but his master had a firm hold on his jesses. ‘That’s perfect. Look as mean as you can, my crotchety friend.’ Shaking his head at his own foolish bravery for the sake of a stranger, Peri took a stance on the bank by the ford. He guessed that Krital would know that the bridge was in a terrible state and not wish to risk it laden down with spoils and a prisoner. Peri didn’t have to wait long before he heard hooves on the road. A stallion trotted around the bend, going slowly due to the uneven surface. He glimpsed a pale face surrounded by a mass of auburn curls; Krital’s muscular forearm was bound across the girl’s chest to keep her in place.
‘Hold!’ Peri held up the falcon. Rogue flapped his wings and screeched.
Krital reined his horse to a standstill, fetlock-deep in the ford. ‘Master Scavenger, what do you want?’
‘Release the girl.’
Krital laughed. ‘Why?’
Peri let Rogue go. The bird pushed off from the gauntlet, flew low to skim Krital’s head, the down-draught of wings fluttering the girl’s hair. The bandit ducked. Peri took the rope from his belt and began to swing the lure in lazy loops over his head.
‘What are you doing?’ Krital watched the lure with suspicion.
‘Showing what will happen to your eyes if you do not do as I ask. It is illegal to take innocent people as bondsmen.’
‘And I care so much about the law?’ laughed Krital, but his gaze was glued to the revolving lure. ‘Besides, she’s not Magharnan, so she’s fair game, true? You’re a scavenger like me: you should understand.’
‘Not true, and I’m nothing like you,’ Peri replied quietly. He gave a shrill whistle and Rogue exploded out of the sky to snatch the meat. The falcon landed it on the ground and gave a shriek of triumph. ‘Think what my bird could do to your face, bandit.’
‘You can’t scare me with that,’ Krital said derisively, taking his hand off the girl to reach for his sword. ‘You’ll have to fight me if you want her. I’ve a trader who’ll pay good money for something a bit different.’
Peri didn’t move an inch. ‘So be it.’ He held out his gauntlet. ‘Rogue!’
The bird fluttered up to Peri’s arm, dragging the lure with him.
Taking advantage of the distraction, the girl suddenly threw herself from the saddle, landing backwards in the river with a splash. The bundle she was clutching went flying. Scrambling to her feet, she ran for the bridge, fleeing both men, her only thought to get to cover and hide. Krital cursed, knowing that the wooden planks would not take the weight of his horse. He dismounted and ran after her, his long strides eating up the distance she had managed to put between them.