Glass Swallow (27 page)

‘That’d be us then—and the fisherfolk will help,’ Peri added. ‘I’ve already talked to them. All they are waiting for is a direction.’ Peri saw that Rain had been right all along, though her methods were reckless. While everyone had been looking at the fragments of their old life breaking apart in their hands, she had already seen the potential for reconstruction.

‘That’s good. You talk to them; I’ll go to the other scavengers. The butchers will want to help.’

Conal stood up. ‘I’ll go with you. The huntsmen will be on your side, I can vouch for them.’

‘You’re all mad!’ exclaimed Katia.

‘No, Ma,’ said Peri. ‘I think we’re finally seeing sense.’

Mikel made it through to the encampment after surrendering his horse to the party of men pursuing Peri and Conal and undergoing a brief but brutal interrogation. He found Rain asleep in a bed in Krital’s private quarters, Ret at her side looking wide-eyed and spooked like an owl startled by daylight. He was accompanied by a thin young man in midnight black robes who hovered at his shoulder. He was talking in a low voice and treated the boy with odd deference. Mikel’s escort turned him loose.

‘If you make trouble, we’ll kill you, true?’ the thug warned.

‘Yes, true. Bleeding bandits,’ muttered Mikel, closing the door on them.

Ret rushed to him and for a moment both were uncertain how to greet the other, until Mikel folded the boy in a fatherly hug. ‘I reckon you’ve been a bit scared, young ’un,’ he said gruffly. ‘But you did good staying with her. How is she?’

Ret stepped out of the embrace, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. ‘She’s all right. Tutor Nighman treated her.’

Mikel eyed the thin man suspiciously. ‘Know him, do you?’

‘He used to teach me Magharnan history.’

Mikel gave a snort of disgust. ‘One of the rats that bailed out when you needed them, eh?’

Nighman tugged at his dirty black robe awkwardly. ‘You have to understand, it was very confusing—I never dreamed no one was looking after the Master—I would’ve stayed if I’d known.’

‘Yeah, right. Blooming coward.’ Mikel went to Rain’s bedside and picked up her hand. She felt cool to the touch which was encouraging. ‘Has she woken?’

‘Once—only to take a sleeping draught I’d prepared,’ reported Nighman stiffly.

‘Get over it, man,’ growled Mikel. ‘I only called you a coward; I didn’t say you were completely useless. You’ve done a good job here as far as I can tell.’

‘Who are you?’ The tutor resumed his seat. ‘Her father?’

Mikel smiled at the thought. ‘No, that position’s already taken. I’m her friend. I kept the gate at the summer palace when she worked there.’

The tutor looked rapidly between Ret and Mikel, his weak eyes blinking. ‘You’re a bondsman? Master, I’m so sorry—you’ve been forced to mingle with those beneath you—had to talk to them in person!’

‘I’ve been living with a scavenger family,’ Ret added, smiling at Mikel.

Nighman gave a wail of distress.

‘I think he’s a bit behind the times, your history tutor.’ Mikel stroked Rain’s hand. Her fingers curled into his, reassuring him that her sleep was not a deep one.

‘Yes, that’s all done with. I’m Ret now.’

‘But, sire!’ Nighman protested.

Ret folded his arms. ‘Let’s put it another way. I’m the Master, so if I decide that what we thought was unclean is now clean, then I can.’

Nighman gave a jerky nod.

‘Good, because I’ve decided.’

They were diverted from their discussion by Rain stirring on the bed. Her eyes flickered open, startling Mikel once more with their blueness.

‘Mikel?’

‘I’m here, lovey.’

‘What happened?’

‘That idiot falcon boy shot you.’

‘He did?’ She tried to move and then winced at the pain in her shoulder.

‘He was aiming for Krital,’ Ret said quickly before she got the wrong impression.

‘Oh.’ Her face clouded with worry. ‘I remember now. Is he all right? Did he escape?’

‘Yes. Both he and Conal should be back in the barracks by now,’ said Mikel.

‘Then why are you here?’

‘To look after you, of course.’ He brushed her hair off her forehead. ‘You shouldn’t’ve come here. I’m very angry with you.’

She closed her eyes and smiled. ‘Is that all the scolding you’re going to give me?’

‘Until you’re well.’

‘It worked though. Krital’s going to take his men into the city. I need to get better so I can make sure he behaves.’

‘And how exactly are you going to do that?’

‘I don’t know. I was going to think of something.’

Mikel shook his head but let the matter drop. Rain wouldn’t be fit to tame Krital for some time, not that her chances of success had ever been very great.

‘Rest now, lovey. Ret and I will look after you.’

I
t took a few days for Krital to finalize his plans for the take-over of Rolvint. He milked Ret and Nighman for every detail they could remember about the palace complex, though Rain suspected that Ret kept some secrets back. She applauded the decision; they would need as many advantages as they could manage now that the bandit leader was on a mission. Krital had changed from the gruff brigand into a man convinced that his new destiny was as a ruler. He inspired his men with the same belief—at least as long as they stood a chance of a more comfortable life with him.

When they moved out from their camp, it was in formation, the rough bandits bullied into ranks like the army Krital aspired to control. He also insisted that Rain be taken with them. She needed the attention of the scholar, he claimed, to ensure she recovered fully from the injury gained in his defence. He did not want to admit that he had come to think of her as something of a personal mascot, and though he joked about her giving her fey blessing to the enterprise, Rain suspected he half believed the superstition.

Still too weak to ride, Rain travelled in the middle of the column on a stretcher carried by Krital’s own bodyguards, Ret, Mikel, and Nighman at her side. The bandit leader rode in the vanguard, flanked by his most trusted men. This honour guard spent much of the ride keeping watch on the brigands behind, knowing they posed the greatest threat. But for now, lured by the promise of a city to command, the outlaws held together, submitting to the discipline they were not used to obeying.

The city gates were open when they approached. Rain strained to sit up on her pillows to glimpse the scavengers’ barracks but they passed through so quickly she saw very little.

Mikel noticed her restlessness. ‘Do you want to stop, lovey? I can ask them to take you to the compound.’

Rain shook her head. ‘No, I can’t do that. I’m responsible for what happens here. I have to see it through.’

‘It won’t be your fault,’ Mikel said cautiously. Rain could tell he was gloomy about the prospect ahead.

Rain watched the ruined streets of Rolvint pass. She tried to remember how they had looked when she lived at the House of the Indigent, but the images of burned out buildings and shattered windows had supplanted her memories of the beautiful houses and fragrant gardens. She wondered if things had gone too far to pull them back. Then, as they turned into the district near the palace, she detected the first signs of change. Some of the doors on the mansions had been replaced. There was an air of order about the squares, the fountains trickling water again and the worst of the rubbish cleared. She had the impression that until the brigand army had been spotted, there had been people on the streets. A basket loaded with flat bread had been abandoned at the entrance to one alley. A bucket hung empty by a well, swinging on its chain like a pendulum.

‘I don’t blooming believe it,’ muttered Mikel.

‘What’s happened, do you think?’ asked Rain. ‘Have the jettan families come back? Are we making it worse by bringing the bandits here?’

Ret grimaced. ‘I doubt it’s them. They don’t do this kind of work. Must be the people—the ordinary people. My people.’ He looked inordinately proud of his former subjects, getting life back together without him.

The column stopped moving on the approach to the palace. Rain strained to see what was taking place at the front, but they were too far back. Then, with no explanation, the army was marching again, entering the palace grounds without opposition.

‘Ret, can you find out what’s happening?’ Rain pleaded.

He winked. ‘Of course. I never thought you’d ask.’ He ducked out of the column and sprinted to catch up with Krital.

‘Have I been really stupid?’ Rain asked Mikel despondently. ‘Are the bandits going to make it worse just when it was getting better?’

Mikel wasn’t sure what to reply. His face suggested that he believed it probable, but he thought it cruel to tell her. ‘Not your fault, love. We created these bandits; it’ll be our fault if they take revenge on the city that kicked them out. Blame us Magharnans for what happens next, not yourself.’

Peri stood in the white cavernous entrance hall to the palace with the other members of the ruling council, watching nervously as Krital approached at the head of his men. Conal was at the bandit’s side. The greeting at the gate must have gone well; the two were talking amicably; Krital appeared eager to learn more before taking any rash decisions. He obviously hadn’t recognized Conal from the rescue attempt; or if he did, held no grudge.

There was a flicker in the rhododendron bushes, a shifting of the heavy pink blooms and a glimpse of a boy’s head. Ret was shadowing the bandit leader, weaving in and out of the bushes with a skill for evasion that Helgis must have taught him. It was a relief to find him alive and well; but what about Rain and Mikel? Where were they?

Hern, who had been nominated the city’s spokesman, smoothed his tunic and cleared his throat nervously. Peri tore his attention from Ret and met his father’s eyes with a confident smile.

‘You’ll be fine, Pa. Just stick to what we agreed,’ he said in a low voice.

‘I’m not made for this kind of thing,’ Hern confessed. ‘Give me a good bird and a clear run at my quarry, then I’m your man; but this!’

‘You’ll be fine,’ repeated Peri, willing it to be so.

After a brief discussion with Conal in the courtyard, Krital entered the palace with his core guard of nine men. As he took in the twenty strong reception committee, made up of representatives of all the professions that had remained in the city, he drew off his riding gloves and bunched them in his hand.

‘This is a surprise,’ he said coolly. ‘Where did you lot spring from?’

Hern stepped forward, his bold demeanour giving no hint of his earlier doubts.

‘We are pleased you could join us. We’re the temporary government of the city.’ He briefly named each member. ‘We’ve been looking forward to your arrival. We badly need some good strong fighting men to help us keep order.’

‘We’re not mercenaries for hire,’ snapped Krital.

‘We know. You’re Magharnans, like us. The job of ruling this country is too big for any one of us; that’s why we need you—and you need us.’

‘I need no one,’ sneered Krital. ‘You’re irrelevant.’

Hern ignored this piece of rudeness. ‘Allow me to introduce your fellow council members. Marga here is responsible for the welfare of widows and orphans—unless of course you want to do this?’

Krital shook his head curtly.

‘We are reopening the houses of the indigent under less rigid rules. Ustavan is looking into restoring city markets.’ Hern waved to a sharp-looking former purveyor. He paused. ‘Unless of course you want to do that too?’

‘You know I don’t,’ growled Krital.

‘Murdle here is ensuring the supply of fish to the city. Tasmin is investigating the possibility of restoring the currency in some form. Medic Hort is contacting any doctors who have gone into hiding, assisted by Nurse Bedwin who is doing the same for midwives. Your escort, Conal Hunter, is in charge of a local watch system, dealing with incidents of theft and violence. Need I go on?’

‘You’ve made your point.’ Krital crossed his arms and tapped his foot irritably. ‘What does that make you—and where does it leave me?’