Schluup-skish.
Then his master is running. She vaults up into Xus’s saddle behind him. She stinks of blood as she shouts, “Ha! Xus, Ha!” And the mount runs, it runs like he has never known the animal could. It runs so fast it seems impossible he can breathe and the tears running from his eyes flow horizontally into his hair and the world becomes lines of colour and streaks of speed and, eventually? A blur.
The world becomes a blur.
This is a dream of what was.
Chapter 15
I ached the next morning.
I ached in body from my beating and in my head from the drink.
My master had laid out clean clothes, and between the jerkin and the trousers was a note in scratch.
The room stank of pig shit.
Once I was dressed I put on my harlequin armour. In my spare moments I had been scouring it with sand and fat and although it didn’t, and would never, shine it was at least useable and would not shame me.
By the time I arrived at the squireyard I was aware of every kick that had been gifted to me the night before.
Rufra’s eyes widened when he saw my bruises as we lined up to choose wooden practice swords. I glanced around the yard, busily plotting how I could accidentally manage to give Tomas or one of the twins a bruise or two in return for mine without giving myself away.
“Girton,” whispered Rufra, “your bruises, are they my fault?”
“How could they be your fault?”
“I was not there to meet you. I was called up to the castle by Neander.”
“Neander?”
“Well, his letter called me away, but Borniya and Hallin were waiting for me.”
“They hurt you?”
“Hallin threatened me with his knife but they didn’t manage to catch me.” A shudder ran through him. “He scares me, you know.”
“Borniya or Hallin?”
“Hallin. Borniya I could beat in a fair fight, but Hallin …” He was rubbing his leg where Hallin had scarred him. “He’s as sneaky as a hedging, the sort likely to stab you in the back.”
“But you would beat him in a fair fight too, Rufra.”
“Hallin can be fast, if he wants to be. He has some of the quickest reactions in the squireyard.”
“You are quicker. Don’t let him get in your head.”
He looked down to where he was rubbing his scarred leg and jerked his hand away.
“Nywulf says that’s where a fight is won or lost—in your head.” He transferred his concentration to the wooden swords, picking one up, studying it until he noticed a crack and letting it drop back in the rack. When he spoke he did not look at me. “Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I see Hallin’s knife opening my skin.” A shudder ran through me at the thought of knives. “I sent a message with a guard—” he looked up from the rack “—telling you not to come as I had been called away.”
“It never arrived,” I said, and he looked dismayed. “I was delayed and thought I had missed you but I should have heeded your warning about not going alone at night. They jumped me in an alleyway.”
“Who?”
“Thugs, thieves probably.”
He shoved the next wooden sword back into the rack with more force than was needed.
“They hurt you, and it is my fault.”
“No, and besides it is only bruises.” Again a shudder ran through me, and this time Rufra noticed.
“Girton?”
“I am fine.”
“No, you are not. And that you think it was thieves only shows how little you know of this castle.” He leaned in close, his face a mask. “What did they do?”
“One of them, he threatened to take my eye.”
Rufra cursed to the dead gods and grabbed the next wooden sword without paying any attention to its quality.
“It is time I stopped being so meek and taught some of those here manners.”
I grabbed him before he could walk away.
“No!”
The whole yard turned at my shout. Tomas smirked at Rufra and I felt the muscles of his arm tense under his jerkin. “Rufra, you are not even wearing armour, and besides, I do not think that was part of the orders given. I think one of the thugs overstepped his mark and he has paid the price for it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nywulf stopped them.” I leaned in and used the Whisper-that-Flies-to-the-Ear: “He broke the neck of the man who would have blinded me and threw his body to the pigs.” With a sudden mix of revulsion and fear I realised I was using magic and glanced down at my feet, expecting to see a circle of dead grass—but there was nothing.
“Well,” said Rufra, “that at least is good to know, but it doesn’t change my mind. Lessons need to be taught, for me and you. I shall start by tutoring Tomas.”
“It will do me no favours if they think I cannot fight my own battles.”
“It is not just for you, Girton, and besides, if you face one of them you’ll only get more bruises. It is perfectly acceptable for a Rider to fight on behalf of a weaker friend.” He saw the sting of his words on my face. “I did not mean that how it sounded. Only that I have trained longer—” he kicked a stone along the ground “—and I am sick of holding back so I don’t offend Tomas or Aydor’s egos.” He removed my hand and stormed across the squireyard. Tomas stood waiting with a half-smile on his handsome face and his wooden sword held loosely in his hand.
I was about to go after Rufra when I was grabbed from behind and spun round.
Borniya’s bent face staring into mine. He spun me again, holding me by looping his hands behind my elbows and pulling me against him so I could not move. I heard Rufra and Tomas shouting. More of Aydor’s squires moved in, shielding me from the rest of the squireyard with a wall of rainbow armour and I could not see what happened between Rufra and Tomas.
“Where is he?” Aydor’s foul breath around me in a cloud. His scabbed face staring out from under a white-enamelled helm etched with blue curlicues and flying lizards.
“Where is who?”
“Dollis, captain of my dayguard. Where is he?”
In a gap between two boys I saw Rufra pointing his practice sword at Tomas, who, with a lazy smile on his face, ignored the challenge as if Rufra was beneath him.
Something cold against my waist. Hallin stood at my side, grinning at me. He had the tip of his small dagger pushed through one of the gaps in my armour. He made an exaggerated sad face and applied pressure so that his blade nicked the skin of my stomach, drawing blood.
“What do you mean, Aydor?”
“Heir!” he hissed. “You give me my title when you speak to me, country boy, and when I ask where my man is you tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I saw Rufra take a step towards Tomas.