Glass Swallow (25 page)

Before Rain could stop him, Ret stepped forward. ‘We brought it to you, sir, because we believe that you can see the value of creating something beautiful out of fragments.’

‘Who’s this?’ barked Krital.

‘My friend,’ said Rain.

‘I am the Master,’ declared Ret at the same moment.

Krital threw back his head and laughed. ‘The Master? Master of what?’

Ret flushed. ‘I am the Master of Magharna. And though that no longer means much, I still believe I have a duty to my people. And that duty has brought us here.’

Krital beckoned him forward. Ret approached the table cautiously, coming within reach. Rain held her breath, wondering if she should pull him back. She could sense the menace under Krital’s gesture.

‘You know, boy, what I think of masters?’ said Krital in a hoarse whisper, his fist bunched.

‘Nothing good, I’m sure,’ replied Ret, determined not to flinch in the face of a threat.

His wit surprised the bandit. Krital relaxed his hand and laughed. ‘I would’ve shown you with a punch, but you beat me to it, lad. Enough of masters, explain what you mean.’

Rain wanted the attention back on her to get Ret out of the line of fire. She held out the mobile. ‘There’s not much left in the city, just bits and pieces no one wants.’

Krital sat back. ‘I know that.’

Time for her plea—if he would only have the patience to listen. ‘But do you know what it means? The city is dying, and so is the land around. People are being forced to fight for survival, retreating to protect themselves. Farmers are too afraid to work their land and what little they have is often raided. What will happen when the seed corn is eaten? Where will the next crop come from?’ Rain picked up a piece of flat bread from a platter on the table and crumbled it on to the floor. ‘What will you eat when there’s no more food to steal?’

Krital shrugged. ‘We’ll be the last to suffer, little foreigner.’

‘I don’t doubt that, but you admit that you too will feel the effects eventually?’

‘Maybe. But what do you suggest I do about it?’

She passed him the mobile. ‘Gather what’s left and make something of it.’

He shook the horse, smiling at the tinkling sound that came from it. ‘Very pretty. But you don’t mean this, do you?’

‘No.’ She looked round the room, realizing that everyone was listening to her so she had to get this right. ‘You have, what? Several hundred men?’

He nodded.

‘If you took over the city, you could restore order to the streets. Once people feel secure, they’ll go about their normal lives, growing, making, selling.’

Krital started to laugh but then sobered. ‘You are serious?’

‘Yes. Who else is there?’

‘But we are outlaws.’

‘When there is no law, how can you be outside it? Isn’t it time you made your own?’ She scanned the faces of those listening. Many bore the signs of a tough life, scars on arms and faces, bitterness in their expressions. Did she really expect them to rise to this challenge? ‘I know you were thrown away before by the authorities, but the people who did that have gone. Why can’t you step into the gap and remake the city as a place where you can live in a lot more comfort than out here? Wouldn’t it be better to earn people’s gratitude than be despised and feared?’

Krital didn’t appear convinced of that. He passed the mobile to the woman in the jettana’s robe. ‘Hang this in my chamber,’ he ordered. ‘Where I can see it.’ He turned to the guard who had escorted Rain inside. ‘Take our guests to the holding cell.’

Rain’s hopes took a dive. ‘You’re not going to do it?’

He arched a brow at her. ‘Did I say that?’

‘No.’

‘You’ve given me something to think about—leave me in peace while I consider what you’ve said.’ He banged his empty cup on the table. ‘More beer!’

The hubbub resumed as Rain and Ret were led away.

‘I think that went well,’ whispered Ret, his eyes darting with curiosity around the boisterous gathering. ‘He was really paying attention.’

‘But that doesn’t mean he’s going to do what we want the way we want it.’

‘Of course not. But him doing something is better than the nothing we’ve had so far, don’t you agree?’

‘I hope so. Either that, or we’ve made a terrible mistake coming here.’

‘Can you see them?’

Hidden in the hills above the bandit settlement, Peri peered over a ledge, watching the comings and goings in the camp.

‘I think so,’ he said in answer to Mikel’s question. ‘Two short prisoners were led from that big building to that hut over there.’

‘Did they look all right?’

‘If it’s them, then yes, I’d say they were unharmed. They walked in unassisted.’ He had been relieved by this glimpse of Rain, but it also brought back his anger at her rashness. What had she been thinking to venture into this place of her own accord? He’d already spotted two drunken brawls and seen how tightly the camp was guarded. Getting out of there without losing anyone was going to be very difficult.

‘What now?’ asked Conal, slithering on his belly to come up alongside Peri. Sly was a few feet further back, admitting that he didn’t have a head for heights.

‘I think two of us should climb down from here and try to get to them. It’s the only route that’s not well guarded.’

‘That’s because the slope is nigh impossible to scale,’ Conal observed drily.

‘And how will we get them up here?’ asked Mikel. ‘I don’t have a good feeling about this.’

‘Nor do I, old friend, but do you have any better suggestions?’

Mikel shook his head and unfastened his cloak. ‘I’ll go first. At least if I fall, I won’t knock you off.’

Peri eased back from the edge. ‘I know you want to do this, Mikel, but we stand the best chance if Conal and I are the ones climbing.’ He slipped off his shoes, flexing his toes. ‘I’m sure you know that.’

Mikel scowled. ‘But I’ve looked after her like a daughter these past months. She’s my girl, my responsibility.’

‘I take it we’re going to have to flip a coin as to who gets to tell her off for this madcap adventure of hers? I know: I do the rescuing, you can do the scolding. Do we have a deal?’

With a little more grumbling, Mikel agreed.

‘If things go badly, which is more than likely, I’ll whistle. We’ll try and meet up by the broken bridge. If we don’t make it, go back to the compound and tell them what happened.’

Conal peered over the edge and gulped. ‘You think there’s a way down?’

‘It’s not as steep as it appears.’ Peri let himself drop over the edge, feeling with his bare feet for a ledge. ‘Climbed worse when looking for falcon nests.’

‘Bet you had a rope then.’ Conal waited for Peri to make the first few moves successfully before following him, not taking exactly the same route but trying his luck to one side. His feet lost purchase and he found himself hanging by his fingertips briefly before he regained control. ‘I hate this.’

He continued chanting this as he edged down, cursing the slippery slate for every time it gave way under him. Peri grinned at his vehemence—but only when they were both safely on the ground.

Keeping low, they crept across the open ground to the little building set on its own. The small windows and heavily barred door made it plain that its purpose was to keep people in rather than let them see out. Peri cursed under his breath: Rain had been lucky she’d been made a prisoner and not had her throat cut on sight—a point he was going to make to her if Mikel didn’t.

‘Down!’ whispered Conal, pulling him behind a pile of shale. Three men were approaching the hut. One went inside while the others waited for a moment before retreating back the way they had come.

‘Was that Krital?’ wondered Conal.

‘I don’t know—couldn’t see him clearly—but Rain and Ret are on their own in there with one of them. Let’s not debate.’

They scrambled over the open ground separating them from the hut, relying on the darkness to hide them from the patrol guarding the encampment. Breathing heavily, backs flat against the back wall, they paused to draw their weapons. Peri selected an arrow from his quiver and strung his short hunting bow. Having already confronted Krital once, he did not relish the prospect of hand-to-hand combat with someone so much more skilled than him. Conal’s eyes glittered in the moonlight, watching Peri for the signal.

With a nod, Peri stepped forward to stand in the open doorway.

Rain and Ret sat side by side on the narrow bunk as Krital paced before them.

‘Your idea has legs—I can run with it,’ said Krital. He tugged the velvet skull cap from his short hair and scratched his scalp. ‘It’s true I’ve had enough of being an outlaw: time I got back inside the walls. Better in the city than out here this winter. I take it the boy here knows the layout of the palace buildings?’

Ret sat up straight, resisting the urge to finger the pendant tucked under his clothes. ‘I do, sir.’

‘How bad was it when you left them? Roof still on?’

‘Yes.’

‘We could probably move everyone in right away then,’ said Krital, thinking aloud. ‘Start by securing the palace then take it from there.’

Rain was conscious she had set in motion a process over which she had no control but she had to try. ‘When you’ve done that, will you create safe places for the vulnerable ones?’

Krital looked surprised by the suggestion. ‘Why would I want to do that? I’m not a charity, true? I’m not playing nursemaid to a bunch of women and children.’

Her wish that he would have a change of heart suffered a blow. ‘No one’s asking you to, just to give them somewhere safe to go. I can make the rest of the arrangements.’

Krital leaned over her, one arm against the wall behind. ‘You are a continual surprise, little foreigner. You’ve got guts coming here and telling me what to do. You’re getting me thinking things I never thought before.’

‘Move away from them!’

Rain looked up in shock. Peri stood in the doorway, arrow trained on Krital. The bandit leader swore.

‘The scavenger! So this is all a trick?’ He seized hold of Rain and pulled her up on to tiptoe. ‘Why?’

‘It’s not a trick!’ she protested. ‘I didn’t know he’d followed me. Please, listen!’

‘Guard!’ roared Krital.

‘Move away from the girl!’ ordered Peri, cold sweat trickling down his back. He’d never shot someone before but if Krital did not let go of Rain, he would.

Krital dropped Rain and swung round to face Peri, feeling for the dagger he carried in his belt. ‘You’ve made your last mistake, falcon boy,’ he snarled.

Seeing Krital’s hand move to his blade, Peri loosed his arrow.

‘No!’ screamed Rain, surging forward.

Ret yelled a warning, but too late: Peri’s arrow hit Rain high on the shoulder, knocking her back against Krital. The bandit’s dagger went flying as he caught the girl as she fell. The bandit gave a great roar of fury, but could not retaliate as Rain was slumped in his arms.

Peri stared in horror at the blood seeping from the wound he had inflicted.

‘Peri, they’re coming,’ said Conal. Men were pouring out of the hall, grabbing their weapons from the doorwarden.

‘I’ve got to stay,’ Peri said numbly.

‘No, you’re leaving—now!’ Conal pulled him firmly from the hut. ‘Ret?’

‘I’m staying,’ the boy said without hesitation.

‘Good lad. Look after her!’

Conal dragged Peri back towards the cliff. His shock had mutated into anger: if Peri didn’t do something they were going to get caught by a horde of vengeful bandits. ‘Get a grip, my friend, or we’re both dead!’

‘I shot her.’

‘Yes, but you don’t know how bad. Dog’s breath, Peri, you’ve got to move! Rain won’t want you dead.’

This argument made some impact and Peri stopped dragging against Conal’s grip on his jacket.

‘I’ll get you out of this,’ Peri vowed.

‘You’d better, because they’re not far behind.’

Peri glanced behind to see the men fanning out through the camp, looking for the intruders. ‘No time to climb,’ he panted. ‘We’ll have to take the quick route out.’ He gave a whistle, the prearranged signal to Mikel and Sly that plans had changed. At the same time, he shifted direction and ran for the entrance to the abandoned mine.

‘Quick route?’

‘Slate wagon. They had a track on stone runners down the mountainside. It’s probably still working.’

‘Probably!’

The ground underfoot became more treacherous as they approached the old mine. The slag heaps slumped over their path so that they had to wade across them to reach the entrance. A chill breeze emanated from the shaft.

‘Couldn’t we just hide in there?’ asked Conal.

‘And then what?’ said Peri, pulling off a ragged tarpaulin covering an empty wagon. The wheels looked rusted into place. ‘We’ll be cornered like a fox in a hole—they’ll tear us to pieces when we come out.’

Conal shuddered. ‘Thanks—I could do without the imagery.’

‘Get in. I’ll lever it from the back. Then we press thumbs,’ said Peri, referring to the traditional plea for ‘good luck’.