Текст книги "Dragonfly"
Автор книги: Julia Golding
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 21 страниц)
Chapter 8
The Midwinter festival approached. Snow built up on the pitched roofs and would periodically
fall in little avalanches into the castle courtyard. The stones around the well were slick with ice,
the chain dripping icicles. The white mountains would have been beautiful if Ramil had not felt
they looked like the bars of his prison. He fretted with each day that passed that escape was
becoming more difficult as the weather closed in. Heavy snowstorms now often blocked the
road to the castle. Teams of soldiers labored to keep the pathways between the army camp and
the citadel clear. Fergox was using the winter to harden and train his troops. Many of them were
from the warmer countries of the south and were not accustomed to the bitter weather. As he
tramped through the castle, Ramil often came across young men with dark skin like his own
cowering around the campfires, doubtless wishing they had never signed up for the warlord's
army.
Though seemingly at a loose end, Ramil had not been idle. He had already hidden two bundles
of clothes and
142
139
provisions in a quiet corner of the castle, enough he hoped to see a pair of fugitives far along the
road. But the most difficult challenge remained. He had to have a horse capable of carrying two.
Ramil had not forgotten the princess's incompetence in the saddle: she would have to ride with
him.
That would mean stealing one of the nobles' horses from the stables, rather than one of the
army mounts, a tricky feat as they were well guarded.
Somehow he had to achieve this and get the princess away before anyone noticed. How he was
to do this was beyond him at the moment. Every time he saw her, she was hemmed in by
priests. They had started to bring her to the practice courts each morning to offer her the
various weapons of combat.
A regular crowd gathered to see her snap the arrow or throw aside the sword, but not before
she had usually taken several blows from her trainer. It was a cruel game that everyone, apart
from Tashi and Ramil, appeared to enjoy.
Two days before the Midwinter feast, a messenger arrived at Felixholt with the news that
Fergox's sister, the Inkar Yellowtooth, and her army from Kandar, an eastern province of Holt,
had been sighted. Fergox took Ramil up to the top of the tower to watch for her approach.
"Now my armies are ail gathered," Fergox announced. "Junis is the last to arrive as usual. She likes to keep her little brother waiting–she's the only one who dares." He chuckled and slapped
Ramil on the back. "I think you'll like her, Ramil. A fearsome warrior. She'll give us good sport on the practice courts tomorrow."
140
143
Ramil took the offered spyglass and saw the banners of the Inkar
Yellowtooth crest the last hill. A soldier with an iron helmet, two plaits of grey hair, and a leaf-
shaped shield rode in the vanguard.
"There she is!" Fergox said. "Let us go down and meet her." He whistled for his groom to saddle his blue roan. "I don't want her complaining that I slighted her."
The elite troops were rushing to mount up to provide Fergox with a guard of honor. A groom led
forward Fergox's horse and a stout mare for Ramil.
Fergox slipped on his gloves, eyeing the prince speculatively.
"I believe I can trust you to attempt no foolishness, young prince, if I allow you a mount?"
"But of course, my lord. 1 have long since given up hope or desire to flee,"
Ramil said meekly. "Where would I go with the snows deep in the mountain passes and your
army encamped on the road?"
"Quite so. I'm glad you understand. We have been getting on well; I would hate to make the
conditions of your stay here less comfortable. Come, let us see what the old girl makes of you."
The guard of honor trotted off in advance, Fergox and Ramil following at an easy pace. They
arrived at the town gates just as the Inkar galloped up, her banner fluttering behind her.
"Junis!" cried Fergox, nudging his horse towards his sister and embracing her from the saddle.
144
The Inkar raised her visor revealing a keen-eyed face with a wolfish grin.
Her front teeth lived up to her
141
nickname, abnormally long and yellow. 'Tergox, I came as promised."
Her brother gripped her forearm. "I only asked you here to share the spoils.
Our little war will soon be over and we can return south. But I am pleased to see you arrive in
time for Midwinter."
"I'm not one to miss a feast, brother. Now tell me, where are your two bargaining chips? I'd like to see them."
Fergox gave a grin to match hers. "I thought as much. Let me introduce you to Prince Ramil ac
Burinholt." He waved his arms to where Ramil was waiting quietly on his mare.
Ramil bowed in the saddle. "Lady," he said politely, though he had never seen anyone less
ladylike in his life. He had just been wondering what kind of marriage his father might have had
with this fearsome woman if that alliance had gone ahead. He could see why his father had run
for the desert.
Junis urged her horse forward and gave Ramil a frank inspection. "Not much of Lagan about you,
is there, Prince Ramil? I suppose you get your coloring from your mother?"
145
"Indeed, my lady, I look much like she did."
Junis turned back to her brother. "Has he tried to escape?"
"Of course," replied Fergox.
"Good. Any use with the weapons?"
"An accomplished warrior."
"Excellent. I look forward to seeing more of our young guest. And what about the other?"
142
"With the priesthood." Fergox gestured to his sister to ride on. They trotted side by side with Ramil just behind, listening to every word.
"Still not broken in yet?"
"Not yet."
"You're being too kind, Fergox. You should just declare her a convert, marry the wench and have
done. Who cares what she really believes once she's your wife?"
146
Fergox frowned. "I will not take an infidel as my bride. Flolin would be most displeased."
Junis was unimpressed. "All this fuss over one girl! Take her as a concubine then. That will send the message to the Blue Crescent Islands that their surrender is inevitable."
"That is not the plan, Junis," Fergox said sternly. "Remember, I have worked towards this moment for years and will not throw it away on a hasty gesture. I need a public renunciation of
the goddess from the girl. She must be the one to bring her people to the true faith. Don't
underestimate me, Junis; we are making progress with her."
The Inkar laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't know, Fergox.
When did you get so . . . so political?"
Fergox smiled at his sister's look of disdain, his anger subsiding. "In my old age, it seems to me that spreading the faith of Holin Warmonger is even more important than conquest."
Junis gave a sceptical snort. "But the god of battle demands blood, not weasel words."
143
"And blood he will get–the blood of thousands of new believers shed willingly in his service.
Think how he will reward me–my empire spread across the known world united by worship of
Holin, an impressive legacy to leave my dynasty." Breaking away from the dream, he swung
towards his sister, thumping her on the arm. "But you, you are just as you've always been, Junis.
Admit it, you have always had the soldier's attitude, wishing to run complications through with
your sword if they get in the way."
"Is there any other kind of attitude, brother?" "Not in your lands perhaps.
147
Come, let us go somewhere warm. We have plans to discuss and a barrel of good, strong beer to
broach."
The last few days had passed like an evil dream for Tashi. Something had snapped inside her
since Fergox told her about his bribe. Doubting herself, her resistance had become habit rather
than deeply felt. Indeed, she had been sucked dry of any feeling except despair. She could see
no escape from her suffering, not even Ramil's promise to help, as she did not believe he had it
in him to pull off a successful rescue. In any case, she was an outcast, cursed, a fake, not
deserving of help. She had begun to hope that some lucky accident on the practice courts would
put an end to her misery, but so far her trainer had refrained from any action that would
produce serious injury.
144
At the end of each session her trainer made her kneel in the sawdust as he asked her to name
the supreme god. Since Fergox's visit, she now replied, "I do not know," before being led away.
And it was true. She no longer knew.
This was happening to her for one of three reasons, she concluded: because the Goddess was
inferior to Holin and powerless to stop him; or she had only ever been a delusion; or, worst of
all, she had abandoned Tashi, in which case she was her Mother no more. The one and only
Goddess, the creator of the universe, had shut out Fergox's false princess, cut Tashi off from her
people. Who now could Tashi serve, cursed creature that she was?
The eve before Midwinter, Tashi saw that there was a newcomer to the practice courts. A
woman with long grey hair was sparring with Fergox, laughing wildly and slashing at his shield
with a curved sword. Their bout was attracting all eyes, even Ramil's; he was leaning over the
barrier watching the battle with a grim smile. Tashi's trainer signalled for her to stay back.
Fergox smashed the blade from his sister's hand. It flew into the air and spiralled into the dust.
148
"Do you submit?" he shouted.
"Not likely!" cried Junis, catching him with a blow from her shield so that the ruler of most of the known world fell on his rump. He leapt up and chased his sister round the ring, threatening her
with the flat of the sword. She finally turned and gave a sweeping bow.
"I yield, brother. I am pleased to see you have not gone soft over the past year."
145
He bowed in reply. "I would not dare, knowing what you would do if you once got the better of
me."
The Inkar picked up her weapon. As she did so, she noticed the black-robed figure standing with
a priest at the other end of the courts.
"Yours?" she asked her brother.
He nodded. "Yes, the little penitent."
Junis snorted and strode over to Tashi.
"You, girl," she said abruptly, "I hear you are putting the priests to a lot of trouble."
"That is not my intention," Tashi replied, wondering who this terrible-looking woman was.
149
"Pitiful answer. Show some backbone, girl. If you intend to resist, at least don't apologize for it.
Here, priest, let me take the girl's lesson."
"But, my lady–" protested the trainer, glancing to the warlord.
Fergox intervened. "It's all right, Training Master, I give my permission." He drew his sister aside.
"I don't want her damaged, understood? I'm still planning to wed her."
"Pish!" Junis sniffed. "She's not as fragile as she looks. We women never are. Right, girl, it's time you learned to make proper use of a sword." She thrust a heavy blade into Tashi's hands. The girl could barely lift it. "Raise it into the guard position like so." Junis held her own sword out in front of her, its point rock steady.
"I don't want to fight you," Tashi said in a voice little more than a whisper.
This woman's presence seemed to crush her, making her feel small and insignificant.
146
"See, I told you." Fergox laughed. "She's as stubborn as a mule. Come, the troops are assembled for us to review them." He strode off, calling for his clothes.
Junis sheathed her sword and waited for him to go. But instead of following, she took Tashi by
the shoulders.
"We've waited on your whims long enough. Come on, girl, fight!" She shook Tashi hard, making her teeth rattle. "Wake up! In Spearthrower's empire, you fight or you die!" She pushed Tashi away and drew her blade again. "Unlike your teachers, I'm not going to miss when I aim at you.
150
What will you do now, Blue Crescent Princess? Die like a dog or fight like a hero?"
Junis raised her sword, her expression merciless. Closing her eyes, Tashi gripped the hilt of her
own blade, determined not to flinch from the blow. She heard Junis grunt as she swung–she
heard the whistle of air–but then a pair of arms clasped her from behind and lifted her sword to
block the
downstroke. The blades clashed together, the Inkar's fierce swipe skidding off to the ground.
"Perhaps your ladyship would prefer to do battle with someone who wants to pit his strength
against hers," Ramil said, pushing Tashi gently behind him.
He levered the blade from her frozen fingers and then tested its weight by twirling it in the air.
Junis glanced at the pale-faced girl who had fallen back to take shelter behind the barrier and
then at the dark-skinned boy who was grinning roguishly at her.
"Hah! You're right! It would be much better sport to
147
see what Lagan's boy is made of." She swung at him but Ramil was ready for her, meeting her
stroke with a high defense. Circling round, she probed his guard with a flurry of quick passes. He
defended them swiftly and efficiently.
"I see the Gerfalian sword trainers have not neglected their prince," Junis noted with approval, stepping back.
151
"I have much still to learn, my lady," Ramil replied, taking the chance to go on the attack. His opponent was strong and crafty and a match for his height; he would have to use his superior
agility to outwit her if he wanted to win the bout. He dealt her a complex pattern of thrusts and
cuts that kept her backing away, but then a momentary doubt crossed his mind, giving her the
advantage again. Would it be better to lose to ingratiate himself with the old she-warrior? Or
maybe she'd like him better if he won? That certainly suited his mood. He returned to attack,
wielding his sword with fluid skill that would have made his old teachers proud. Junis was forced
onto the back foot and finally disarmed with a twist of Ramil's blade.
"Do you submit to me, and thus to our Father God?" Ramil asked as was the custom on these
courts.
Panting, Junis replied, "I submit. And, by Holin, well fought, young Prince!
You would give my brother a hard time–there's a match I'd like to see."
Ramil bowed. "I would not presume to challenge him, my lady."
Junis lifted her tangled locks off her neck to cool
148
down, catching sight of Tashi watching nervously from the sidelines. She pointed her blade at
Prince Ramil. "There, girl, that's real fighting! As for you, pale-faced witch from the western
islands, you disgust me. I do not know why my brother wastes his time on you. Take her away.
Come, Prince, let's go drink to Midwinter cheer."
The high point of the Midwinter holiday was the feast in the banqueting hall.
152
Entering the packed chamber, Ramil saw that the walls had been decked with greenery, the
floor covered with fresh rushes, a huge meal prepared by the castle kitchens. Everyone was busy
with the celebrations: this night, Ramil decided, would offer the best hope of escape.
"Young Prince!" called the Inkar from the top table. She was dressed rather incongruously in a rose-pink gown with plunging neckline showing her wrinkled throat and battle-scarred chest.
"Sit by me." She patted the seat beside her. Ramil made his way through the crowds and took
his place.
"Midwinter greetings, my lady," he said.
"Fie upon you!" Junis roared with laughter. "Are they so meek in Gerfal that men and women merely exchange words at Midwinter? In my lands, we are not so bashful." She leant forward
and kissed him heartily on the mouth, then slapped him on the back. "See, that's how we do it."
Ramil repressed the urge to wipe his mouth on the
149
back of his sleeve, It had been like being kissed by a camel.
"I ... er ... I am honored." He dragged the words up from somewhere.
"So you should be. I don't make a habit of kissing men. Only a favored few."
He wasn't reassured by this but attempted to change the subject. "More wine, your ladyship?"
He took a gulp of his own glass to remove the taste left in his mouth.
153
"Why not? Where in Wrath's name has my brother got to?"
Her query was answered by the appearance of Fergox at the doors to the chamber. The room
fell silent as he moved between the tables to take his place. To Ramil's surprise, Tashi followed
him like his shadow, head down.
Junis groaned. "He's got that poxy milksop in tow. What do you think, Prince Ramil? Has she
bewitched Fergox? I've never known him to make so much fuss about a girl before. Usually weds
them and has them nursing his little warriors before the year's out. But this one–no, he even
cares what's in her head, not just what she looks like. He wants a real conversion from her."
Fergox took his chair and pointed to a spot two paces behind him for his prisoner to stand. He
held up his arms.
"Welcome to our feast. Everyone is invited to share the food on my table tonight: friend and foe, master
150
and servant, faithful and heretic, for one night we make no distinction.
Midwinter cheer to you all!" He drained his gold tankard and threw it into the crowd for any
lucky man to catch. A fight broke out between two bare-armed guardsmen vying for the prize,
resulting in one losing his front teeth and being stretchered out. The victor drank his health from
the tankard to the cheers of the onlookers. Fergox roared with laughter and applauded.
Junis tugged his sleeve once he was seated. "Why did you bring her?" She jerked her head at
Tashi who was now sitting on the floor being examined by two friendly dogs.
154
"What's it to you, sister? I like her, that's all you need to know." He heaped his plate with red meats. "She's got those lazy priests of mine earning their keep for once. Besides, I want her to
know what she's missing with her obstinacy. She could be here like our young prince, a guest of
honor at high table, not sitting with the animals at my feet."
Ramil's cheeks flushed. He hoped Tashi had not heard. She had her face buried in the silky coat
of a red setter. He thought her choice of company was better than his, snuffles from that snout
far more appealing than kisses from the Inkar.
The entertainers entered with the Midwinter cake. They scattered among the tables, performing
to those who called them over. Ramil was not surprised to see some familiar faces. The acrobats
from Orboyd's circus flip-flopped down the central aisle; Minka perched on
151
the benches telling fortunes to fresh-faced soldiers and hopeful girls; Gordoc arm-wrestled with
all challengers and bent iron bars on demand, making short work of the thickest metal.
Ramil used the distraction provided by the circus folk to leave his place and crouch down beside
Tashi.
"Midwinter cheer, Princess," he said softly.
She looked up to return the wish but found she couldn't. Instead, she shook her head.
He shifted one of the dogs to sit down. "At home, we celebrate with a hunt in the forest,
followed by storytelling and songs in the hall. I tell my good jokes and everyone laughs. My
father tells his bad jokes and everyone still laughs.
155
Privilege of being king, I suppose."
He saw a smile flicker on her lips, then fade. Encouraged, he continued.
"My sister gets really excited about the presents. Did you meet her? She's like me but well
behaved. Anyway, this year she was getting a pony from Father and me. I hope he remembers
to give it to her–I chose it myself." He frowned for a moment, wondering what kind of
Midwinter they would be having in Falburg palace. "The best part comes at midnight when we
put out all the lights and fires all over the palace as a sign that the old year has died.
The king snuffs out the last one–it's very dramatic as we all wait in darkness.
Then I get to light the first candle of the new year. The flame is passed from person to person,
put to every hearth in the palace, so we all share that one light and hope." He paused, finding his throat strangely constricted. He'd 152
been trying to cheer her up, but succeeded in making himself acutely homesick.
Tashi stroked the setter. "In the Blue Crescent Islands we have a special ritual for New Year's
day," she said, picking up his theme. "We release pigeons at dawn to take messages to all the noble houses around the islands. When I was still at home, before I was a princess, I used to love
it when our bird arrived. You couldn't start the feast and the music until it came and we all got
very hungry waiting. Kai's a long way from Rama so we were always the last to eat."
Ramil smiled. "And what was the message?"
"It's always a special poem, a mada. It must have four lines and four-eight syllables. We hold a
competition each winter and the best one is chosen for the New Year. It's usually in praise of the
Mother." Tashi's brief pleasure at the memory soured on the mention of the Goddess. "I don't 156
know what they'll do this time. It's the role of the Fourth Crown Princess to select the winner.
See, I got all the vital jobs." She combed her fingers through the setter's ears, picking out a burr and throwing it aside. "I don't suppose they're missing me; they'll just rewrite a few rituals and carry on. They'll probably start looking for a new candidate to take my place when they hear
how I've betrayed them."
Ramil didn't like this new tone in her voice. "You haven't betrayed them, Tashi. You've been
strong. You're resisting Fergox the only way you can."
"But I can't defend the Goddess anymore–I'm not
153
worthy. I wanted that woman to kill me yesterday, did you know that? I'm a joke–just a goat girl
made into a princess by a warlord. It doesn't matter what happens to me now. I couldn't go back
to being the Fourth Crown Princess even if I do get out of here, not now that I know what I am."
She stared down at the filth on the floor below the bruised rushes. "You'll stand a much better
chance if you escape alone. You should go soon–go without me."
"No." Ramil covered her hand with his and gripped it. "I'm leaving tonight if I can, but you are coming with me."
She shook her head. "Do not throw away your one chance. I'm not worth it.
The Mother has turned her face from me–I'll only bring you bad fortune."
"Don't say that: it's not true! Look, if you stay, Fergox will use you to overthrow your own
government. Surely you can't let that happen? You'll eventually be forced to become his fifth
157
wife. Do you really want that?"
"Of course I don't. But as I seem to be cursed, maybe I'll bring a curse upon him." She sighed.
"Ram, can't you see it doesn't matter anymore what I do, but you, you're still needed at home.
You go. If my people are still there, tell them the truth. Let them rejoice that Fergox took me
away before I could do any more damage to my country."
"No, I refuse that mission, Princess. See, you are still ordering me around like a ruler–it's in you, it's what you are meant to be, no matter what others are telling
154
you. I've given my word that I'll only escape with you by my side. So forget about yourself for a
moment: if you care anything about me, about the fate of my country and yours, you are coming
with me or I don't go."
"But, Ram–"
"You've got my little horse stil ?"
She nodded.
"I believe that in the Islands it is understood that when you accepted it, you took responsibility for my soul. I'm holding you to that, Tashi."
"You've been talking to my little penitent for a long while, Prince Ramil,"
158
called Fergox, throwing a bone to the dogs. "What are you discussing?"
"Midwinter customs, my lord," replied Ramil, letting go of her hand.
"And is it the custom in Gerfal for a prince to sit with the dogs?" Fergox filled his plate with more meat.
"No, sir," replied Ramil, rising from the floor. "It is our custom to have songs, stories, and dancing."
"Dancing!" Junis shoved back her chair with a scrape. "There's an idea for a cold winter's evening. Come, little Prince, teach me some Gerfalian dances."
Without waiting for an answer, she hooked Ramil by the elbow and marched him into the center
of the room, snapping her fingers at the minstrels. "Play!"
she barked, gripping Ramil in a bearlike hug.
Fergox chuckled and patted his knee. "Join me, Tashi. This will be most amusing. My sister has
taken a liking to the Prince, poor lad. He'll soon wish they were back
155
on the practice courts rather than on the dance floor– she'll do him more damage here than
there." Tashi did not move to obey the summons. Fergox frowned. "Come here or do I have to
drag you?"
159
She got up and perched uneasily on his knee.
"See, nothing to be afraid of, is there?" Fergox murmured, putting his arm around her waist. "I'm just wishing you Midwinter cheer." He kissed her hand. "Now, you wish me Midwinter cheer
back."
"Midwinter cheer, sir."
"A cold greeting if ever I heard one. Never mind; next year, when we're seeing in the New Year
together on Rama, celebrating the dawn of an enlightened age of worship of the supreme God,
there'll be plenty of opportunity for warmth. You'll like that, won't you, Tashi? Of course you
would: every woman desires to be wife to the most powerful man in the world!" He didn't wait
for–or seem to require–an answer, so certain of his own irresistible attractions. "Off you go,
back to your cell." Fergox pushed her up and signalled to the guard to take her away. "I can't have you sitting here all night or my people will think you've been hard at your spells again.
My sister's already convinced you've bewitched me. Though it seems young Ramil has been the
one charming her." He roared with laughter as the red-faced Ramil clumped by with Junis in his
arms, attempting to teach her the steps of a dance. "Midwinter cheer, my little penitent!"
156
