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Authors: Steph Swainston

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Above the Snowline (43 page)

BOOK: Above the Snowline
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‘I know her.’
 
‘Was inciting a pack of them to attack us. She was rousing them, preparing them to eat us.’
 

Eat
you?’
 
‘Yes. Didn’t you know they have been murdering and devouring Awians? Our countrymen, Lightning, roasted and eaten! My steward said that Jant told those animals they had as little chance of hounding us from Carniss as they did of hitting the moon with an arrow. He was right! So I made it my symbol. Shoot at the moon, Rhydanne, if you can!’
 
‘Do they truly eat people?’ I asked, shaken.
 
Raven was nettled. ‘Yes. Snipe told me. Ah . . . this is something Jant didn’t tell you, am I right? I’ve lost fifty men! Lightning, you’re the best archer of all time. Can you shoot the moon? No? If you can’t, no one can. Those beasts are too primitive to know the use of the bow. They have no chance whatsoever of shooting the moon, and we will never leave Carniss.’
 
‘Are you safe here?’ I asked. ‘Do the walls keep them out?’
 
Raven shuddered. ‘I think they can climb any wall they are inclined to, but my bowmen deter them. When I built Carniss I thought they could never act in concert, but Dellin has deviously taught them to ambush my patrols in the backwoods.’
 
‘Your difficulties with the Rhydanne interest me.’
 
‘So we discover the reason for your visit!’
 
‘Jant told me he’s been unable to stop you persecuting them.’
 
‘Wouldn’t you persecute beasts that devour your people! They tear us apart with their teeth!’
 
The statement chilled me, and I wondered if Jant knew all of Dellin’s deeds. My own experience with Savory proved how sightless love can be, and he was so besotted, Dellin could easily have deceived him. Surely she couldn’t be so terrible as to eat people? I felt heavy and cold inside. ‘If this is happening to our countrymen you must do everything to stop it,’ I said. ‘But are you sure? Do you have evidence?’
 
‘Lightning, you
are
here in an official capacity.’
 
‘The Emperor wants this war to reach a peaceful solution.’
 
‘Oh, so now it’s a war, and the Castle feels justified in stepping in! Dellin raided my settlers’ homes two days ago. Twelve families - thirty men, women and children - vanished! Dellin burnt the houses but we found no bodies inside, so she must have carried them away. She took all their goods too. I sent armed patrols to look for them and of those men only Snipe crawled back, suffering severe hypothermia. The others met their deaths, driven over a cliff by Dellin’s horde.’ ‘Is that how Snipe gained his black eye?’
 
Raven paused. ‘No. We’ll come to that in good time. And we no longer ride; the horses take fright too easily. The Rhydanne tore Rabicano apart with their talons; how would you feel if they killed Balzan?’
 
‘There will always be another Balzan.’
 
Raven stood up. ‘Why are you Eszai supporting the natives? Are you so opposed to progress? This colony is a glorious thing for our country to achieve. Lightning, I wish you could see the innermost heart of Carniss as I do; much of your sympathy would subside. The Rhydanne savages are on a level with the brute, not even to be compared with the noble character of the dog. They are in a crude state. They have no gratitude, pity, love, nor self-denial, no idea of duty, not even knowledge of the Castle, but covetousness, ingratitude, selfishness and cruelty. All are thieves, idle, envious and ready to plunder. Please feel free to speak to my terrified settlers. Imagine how you would feel if the citizens of Micawater were too afraid to leave their homes? I have a duty to protect my people, the same as you do. The settlers look to me for help. You know what it’s like. No one wants to leave the keep. I had to order soldiers to collect firewood or there’d be no roast ox tonight.’
 
‘If you stop trawling the woods for Rhydanne, Jant can persuade Dellin to cease.’
 
‘You know as well as I do that Jant has no influence over her.’
 
Privately, I agreed with him. I guessed that Dellin had all the influence and Jant was a paper boat on her river. ‘She talked at length with the Emperor,’ I said. ‘He supports her. He said, “In the Throne Room the column representing Darkling stands beside the column for Awia. The Rhydanne are part of the Empire.”’
 
‘Does their silver column carry as much of the Empire as our blue column? I think not.’
 
I returned to my question: ‘Have you any evidence to prove Rhydanne have . . . consumed Awians?’
 
He frowned but said nothing.
 
‘No eyewitnesses?’
 
He paused. ‘No.’
 
‘So you heard it from Snipe, who heard it from a soldier, who heard it from a schoolboy, who overheard an old woman muttering? It is hearsay, Raven, nothing more!’
 
He heard the relief in my voice. ‘Very strong hearsay, since everyone believes it! Even if you prefer to side with the killers!’
 
‘I agree they’re killers, but not man-eaters.’
 
‘It is misleading that they have a roughly human shape, for they are wolves. If you had only seen them sprinting out from the trees. At first, nothing. Then - everybody’s dead! Silence again, and you’re standing surrounded by the bodies of your friends!’ He paced across the room, from the fireplace to a tapestry and back, casting nervous glances at the window but never approaching it. ‘At least you can hear Insects coming!’
 
‘They’re not as bad as Insects.’
 
‘They’re much worse - as you’ll witness for yourself, because the festival won’t diminish their attacks. I will kill them, Lightning,
all
of them.’
 
I leant back in my chair and rested my elbows on the arms, and he responded to this relaxed posture by calming visibly. He paused by the arras and added, ‘My decision is correct. It is the fate of princes to be ill-spoken of for doing well.’
 
‘Even princes cannot break the law with impunity.’
 
‘The law of the Empire or the law of nature?’
 
‘Immortality apart, the two are much the same.’
 
‘Immortality is a thorn in your side, not mine.’ He sat down again in the timber throne.
 
‘The Emperor wishes for peace. Your manor has less than a tenth as many Rhydanne than settlers. The Rhydanne have nothing to eat, so if you cease to provoke them, they will disperse naturally.’
 

We
are a source of food. You and I, Lightning. Dellin is attracting more killers from the wilderness to prey on us. They have a taste for our blood! They lurk in the forest, waiting for someone to step outside so they can carve the flesh from his bones. They gnaw the bones! The soldiers say they even suck out the marrow!’
 
‘I’m surprised you can be so gullible,’ I said coolly. ‘I’m surprised that the author of
A Mirror for Princes
can fall for the same superstition as a cottar.’
 
Raven paused and thought awhile. At length he muttered, ‘I am still a son of Rachiswater. Your complacent life in the lowlands has led you to favour Rhydanne over your own countrymen.’
 
‘Not at all, if Rhydanne are murderers.’
 
‘Jant is the same. I have seen the way he looks at Dellin.’
 
‘He looks at all women like that.’
 
‘He beat up my steward. You’ve noticed Snipe’s black eye? Jant gave it to him.’
 
I was shocked. Raven saw this and continued, ‘In the Frozen Hound trading post. Jant stood up for Dellin and beat Snipe so badly he has more than a black eye: a broken nose and a gap in his teeth. Jant was prepared to go further - he raised a hatchet to kill Snipe - but the owner of the bar prevented him.’ He paused. ‘I do have witnesses.’
 
Knowing Jant, I believed him. This changed everything. Immortals must not assault mortals. Unless fighting Insects we have no authority, only influence. We’re not even supposed to take sides in their quarrels, let alone get involved. Jant had undermined me, the whole Castle even. I had no position from which to mediate and my anger rose against him.
 
Raven saw he had won and continued with mock regret, ‘A brief letter will inform the Emperor. Assault is a crime, and in my manor Jant is subject to Awian law. I must try him and if he’s found guilty jail him.’
 
‘San need not know of it yet.’
 
‘On the contrary, I think it’s vital he knows.’
 
‘Do I have the honour of being invited to your feast tonight?’
 
‘Yes, of course.’
 
‘Well, let us talk further then.’ I was about to continue but a noise outside interrupted me and I turned to the window. A dog sled raced out from between the trees, heading towards us. Eight enormous dogs, pale grey with darker masks like wolves, leapt and strained. Tethered in pairs, they hauled the sled smoothly towards us. On the driver’s seat a very stout figure, hooded in a brown parka, held the reins in fatly mittened hands.
 
The shining metal runners curled up at the front, beaming lanterns lashed to them. The rest of the sled was wood laths between which I could see the snow, and towards the back a passenger in a white parka sat hunched behind a pack. It reminded me of a kayak, as it snicked over the ice with rapid grace, leaving a wake of two ruts over paw-packed snow.
 
‘Who’s that?’ I asked Raven, who looked apprehensive as he joined me at the window.
 
He saw the sled, relaxed and smiled. ‘Ouzel. Ouzel with no surname. The proprietress of the trading post and one of the witnesses I mentioned. She saw Jant thrashing Snipe, and if it hadn’t been for her, Jant would have killed him.’
 
‘If the Rhydanne eat people, why haven’t they eaten her? She’s more than one good meal.’
 
The sled sped closer, until I could only see it by looking directly down through the lowest panes of the window. Ouzel pulled the reins and her team slewed to a halt. She disembarked in an ungainly fashion owing to the thickness of her breeches and walked down the line of dogs, releasing the reins from the harness on the back of each one. They were barking energetically, leaping up and woo-wooing. She threw something to each in turn, which sent them sniffing in the snow then lying down to chew.
 
The passenger opened majestic wings for balance as it disembarked. It was Jant. He looked up at the window and waved. I snorted:
wait till I talk to him
.
 
He blew out the lanterns, hefted the pack, and helped Ouzel pull a tarpaulin over the sled and peg it down. The dogs milled around them, and when he and Ouzel started towards the arched gate, directly below me, all eight dogs bounded forward as one, seeming to bear them into the gatehouse on an exuberant tidal wave of grey fur.
 
‘I invited her to the feast,’ said Raven. ‘She supplied most of our beer.’ He stepped down and returned to his throne. I made small talk, complimenting the fine petit point tapestries and the New Year’s decorations, and soon footsteps were heard on the stair. In burst a vigorous woman with curly hair, her parka flapping open over a knitted jumper and hide breeches tightly circumscribed around the waist. I liked her immediately - it’s easy to like someone who radiates an aura of loving everything. She rolled a rotund and rubicund bow to Raven and cried, ‘Merry New Year’s Eve, my lord!’
 
Raven laughed. ‘Ouzel, compliments of the season. Let me introduce you to Lightning Micawater.’
 
I rose in the window seat. She looked up and opened mouth and eyes wide in astonishment. ‘By god. Never thought I’d—Pull yourself together, girl.’ She rallied, inclined a bow and said, ‘My lord, I have something of yours. I’d like to return it.’
 
‘What is it?’
 
She pointed a thumb back over her shoulder. ‘Your Messenger.’
 
Jant came into the room, carrying a pack clinking with bottles. He dumped it on the rug and collapsed into a chair. He looked even more wan and drawn than before. ‘Isn’t it good luck for a handsome man to bring in the New Year?’
 

After
midnight,’ Ouzel corrected him. ‘Before then he’s just another pain in the backside . . . My lord Raven, may I call in my lead pair?’
 
‘Very well, but only if they behave.’
 
‘Hist! Snowblink! Spindrift!’ she yelled, and two of the sled dogs bounded in. They ran leaping across the room like an avalanche, bustled into the recess and pressed against my legs. I stroked the first, who had black ears and a dark widow’s peak, making his face a pure white mask. He had saddle markings and a proud tail curled over his back. He jumped up, sturdy on enormous feet like furry snowshoes, and blotted my trousers with melting snow. The second was just as powerful. My fingers slipped over his sleek, grey guard hairs and sank deep into the incredibly soft rolls of white fluff beneath. Their brown eyes were full of laughter as they licked my hands stickily, with rough tongues that smelt of old meat. Dogs this strong could be of use in the Insect war, I thought, and wondered how to introduce them to the lowlands.
BOOK: Above the Snowline
12.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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