Slaves of the Mastery (35 page)

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Authors: William Nicholson

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BOOK: Slaves of the Mastery
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So he sat quietly and listened to the noises of the night. Somewhere nearby a stream trickled over a stony bed, its soft murmur blending with the fading hiss of the fire. From time to time a
night bird passed overhead, its wings barely moving, a quiet sigh in the air. Some small unseen creature scratched at the earth by his feet: scree-scree-screek, scree-scree-screek. And all the
time, beneath the other sounds, there was the steady drumbeat, slow and muffled, of his own heart.

Wind gusted across his face. He opened his eyes, and found the clouds were moving overhead, rolling away to the west. Stars began to appear, and a thumbnail moon. He looked for the familiar
constellations, the Axe, with its long handle, the Crown, with its three points.

‘Are you awake, Mumpo?’

He started. It was Pinto.

‘Pinto! Why aren’t you asleep?’

‘I can’t sleep.’

‘You have to sleep. We’ll be walking all day tomorrow.’

‘So will you. And you’re wounded.’

‘I’m all right. I’m strong.’

‘Well, so am I.’

He looked at her fondly, and saw how she was shivering.

‘I’ll make up the fire.’

He stirred the embers together, drawing in the unburned ends of logs, and the fire flickered back to life. In its gently-spreading glow, the others returned to his view, lying asleep in tangled
heaps, pressed together for warmth. Mumpo’s eyes sought out Kestrel, and found her curled up between her brother and her mother, one hand folded in Bowman’s sleeping hand.

‘Do you still love her, Mumpo?’

‘Yes,’ he said simply.

‘What if she were to die?’

He looked at Pinto, shocked. ‘Don’t say that.’

‘No, but what if?’

‘I don’t want to think about it.’

‘You’d forget her and start loving someone else. That’s what people do.’

‘Well, nobody’s going to die.’

‘Don’t be silly, Mumpo. Everyone’s going to die.’

‘Not for a long time.’

‘Kess’ll die before me, because she’s older than me. Then there’ll just be me. You can love me when you’re old.’

‘All right,’ said Mumpo, touched by her fierce loyalty. ‘I’ll love you when I’m old.’

For a few moments they sat in silence and watched the caverns forming in the fire. Then Mumpo’s sharp ears caught a different sound, more regular than the pop and crackle of the burning
wood. It was approaching footsteps.

He leaped to his feet, and drew his sword.

‘Stay here!’ he commanded Pinto.

As she shrank back against her sleeping parents, Mumpo loped away silently into the darkness. Pinto too could now hear the footsteps, but a sudden gush of bright flame from the fire made the
night around impenetrable. She heard the footsteps stop. Then came the indistinct sound of voices: women’s voices. Then Mumpo was returning to the ring of orange light, and with him came two
women, one fat and one thin. They were shaking with cold, and looked badly frightened. Mumpo led them up to the warmth of the fire. The fat one said,

‘There, my pet. Now my baby will be warm again.’

The thin one said nothing at all. She just huddled up close to the fire and bowed her head.

Mumpo whispered to Pinto.

‘See if you can find them something to eat.’

Pinto nodded, and felt her way to a nearby wagon. She brought back two chunks of their precious store of bread. The fat woman took the bread without a word and gave a small piece to the thin
woman. The thin woman held it for a moment, and then let it fall to the ground.

‘Don’t do that!’ said Pinto, dismayed. ‘We don’t have enough food to feed ourselves.’

The thin woman frowned, and turned to look at Pinto. Then she looked down at the fragment of bread she had dropped. Slowly, she picked it up and reached it out to Pinto.

‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice low and sad.

‘Oh, my precious.’ The fat lady gave a shuddery sob. ‘My precious must eat or she’ll die, and what will her Lunki do then?’

‘Hush,’ said Mumpo. But it was too late. Lunki’s sob had woken Bowman. As he sat up, his movement woke Kestrel. Bowman stared in confusion at the firelit vision of the Johdila
Sirharasi, still in her wedding dress but unveiled, gazing back at him with such sweet sadness on her lovely face. Thinking he was in a dream, and that all this would melt away as he woke, he
reached out one hand and said,

‘Don’t go!’

Then Kestrel was up, and alert.

‘Sisi!’

‘Oh, Kess!’ Sisi burst at last into the tears that had been waiting within her, and fell into her friend’s arms.

‘There, my pet,’ said Lunki, weeping herself with relief. ‘There, the friend will make everything all right.’

‘Who is she?’ said Pinto to Mumpo in an undertone.

‘She’s the princess who came to be married.’

Kestrel calmed Sisi down and got her to tell all that had happened.

‘Zohon has arrested mama and papa, and he’s killing everyone, and he says he’s going to marry me, but I hate him, so I’m going to come with you instead, because
you’re my –’ she broke once more into sobs, ‘you’re my – you’re my – friend.’

‘But Sisi,’ said Kestrel gently. ‘We’re not your people. You’d find it strange with us. We don’t have princesses, or veils. We’re just ordinary
people.’

‘That’s what I want to be. Look, I’m not wearing my veil. I let him see me.’

She turned to point at Mumpo.

‘No other man has ever seen me. Oh yes, your brother has.’ She turned to find Bowman gazing at her. ‘He thinks I’m my servant. Well, I might as well be now. Lunki, you
can’t be my servant any more. We’re going to be ordinary people from now on. You’ll have to be my friend.’

Lunki was dismayed.

‘I don’t know how to be a friend. I only know how to be a servant.’

Sisi was still looking at Bowman.

‘Do you mind if we come with you?’

Bowman said nothing.

‘Why won’t he speak to me?’

‘It’s not you, Sisi,’ said Kestrel. ‘He’s hardly spoken since – since we left the palace.’

‘It is me. He thinks I’m odd. But he said, don’t go.’ She set her lips in a stubborn expression, as if he might deny it. ‘You did say so, so I
won’t.’

‘Let’s talk about it in the morning,’ said Kestrel.

But Sisi had recovered her determination.

‘There’s nothing more to talk about. I shall come with you, and I won’t be a princess, and anybody can look at me whenever they want to, until their eyes pop out.’ She
turned on Pinto, who had indeed been gaping at her. ‘Even little girls.’

Pinto wasn’t afraid of her.

‘I’ll look at whoever I want.’

‘I’m glad I’m so interesting.’

‘You’re not interesting,’ said Pinto. ‘You’re just beautiful.’

‘Oh! Oh!’ exclaimed Sisi. ‘Lunki, beat her! Put her eyes out! The little wildcat! Don’t you dare speak to me like that, I’m – I’m – No, I’m
not, am I? Oh! I don’t know who I am any more.’

‘Come along,’ said Kestrel kindly. ‘You can lie down next to me, with Lunki on your other side. Is that all right, Lunki? We’re quite near the fire here. We’ll not
get cold.’

After some grumbling, everyone settled back down to sleep, except Mumpo, who insisted on standing guard once more, and Bowman, who claimed he had slept enough.

Mumpo was a little in awe of Bowman now. He had become so quiet and grave. He was almost exactly Mumpo’s age, but lately he seemed to have grown much older. It was as if he had been away
on a long journey, and had learned things that none of the rest of them knew. Mumpo would never have presumed to ask his friend about those experiences; but deep into the night, greatly to his
surprise, Bowman began to talk.

‘Do you remember the Morah, Mumpo?’

‘Of course.’ It was long ago, but he had forgotten nothing.

‘The Morah didn’t die. The Morah never dies.’ For a moment he was silent. Then, ‘But you know that, don’t you? You’ve felt it too.’

‘I think so.’

‘The Morah’s back in me, Mumpo. I did it to save Kess.’

‘To save Kess? But I thought I –’ He broke off. He could see it all so clearly. Ortiz with his sword descending. His own fist powering through the air. ‘I thought he was
going to kill her.’

‘He was.’

‘Then what – how –?’

‘I was wrong. I did nothing.’

Bowman fell silent, leaving Mumpo uneasy and confused. But then after a few moments Bowman spoke again.

‘If I have to go, will you look after Kess for me?’

‘Of course. Always.’

‘She thinks she’s the one who looks after me. But it’ll be hard for her.’

‘I’ll look after her as long as I live.’

‘I know you love her.’

‘I do.’ Mumpo was filled with a simple happiness just to be able to say it. ‘Do you think that one day, not now, but when all our troubles are over, she might love me
back?’

‘She loves you now.’

‘I mean more than as a friend.’

Bowman said nothing for a moment. Then, quietly,

‘I don’t think so. She doesn’t want to marry anybody.’

Mumpo hung his head. He didn’t dispute Bowman’s answer. He had heard Kestrel say it too many times, in the old days of Aramanth.

‘What is it she does want, Bo?’

‘I don’t think she knows yet.’

‘I know what I want. I know it so clearly I can almost see it.’

‘What do you want, Mumpo?’ He stroked the cat, curled up as always on his lap.

‘I want to be married. I want to have a house with a porch. And I want to have a son. I shall keep my little boy so clean, and dress him in such neat clothes, that everyone will love him.
He’ll play with his little friends, and never feel lonely, and laugh all day long.’

Bowman smiled in the firelight.

‘What will you call him?’

‘I thought at first I’d call him after my father. But then I thought, no, I’ll call him after myself. He’ll be Mumpo the Second. That way I’ll be able to sit on the
porch of my house in the summertime and hear the children calling, “Mumpo, come out to play! Mumpo, we’re waiting for you! We can’t start without you, Mumpo!”’

‘May we all live to see that day, my friend.’

In the silence that followed, Mist spoke to Bowman, knowing Mumpo couldn’t hear him.

‘Boy,’ he said.

‘Yes, cat?’

‘Did you see me in the fighting? I fought too.’

‘Yes, I saw.’

‘And boy?’

‘Yes, cat?’

‘I think I flew. I think it was flying. I’ll teach you to fly, if you’d like that.’

‘Yes, cat. I’d like that.’

Mist was content.

Little by little now, the light was returning to the sky. The clouds had all dispersed. High above, sharp stars still shone in the night, even as the first pale watery-green tints of day seeped
over the eastern horizon. The cows were rousing each other, and heaving themselves up onto their legs to tug at the sparse grass. In distant trees, waking birds began to call.

Then Mist pricked up his ears.

Faint and far away, there came the sound of a bugle: ta-tara! ta-tara! Mumpo leaped to his feet. Another distant sound followed on the breeze: the thunder of horses’ hooves. The cat jumped
off Bowman’s lap as he stood up.

‘Quick! Wake everyone!’

Hanno Hath was already rising.

‘What is it?’

‘Horsemen,’ said Bowman.

Mumpo was motionless, listening attentively to the sounds. The horses were advancing in formation, keeping time with each other.

‘Soldiers!’ he said.

Now all the travellers were awake and rising. Ira Hath turned over to find Sisi curled up close to her.

‘Who are you? Mercy, what a pretty child!’

Sisi heard the horsemen and started to tremble.

‘They’re coming for me! Don’t let them take me! Please!’

‘Quickly, quickly!’ called Hanno. ‘Load the wagon!’

‘We have to hide her,’ said Kestrel to her mother.

‘Into the wagon,’ said Ira, understanding there was no time for explanations.

Sisi and Lunki were lifted into the wagon and covered up with blankets alongside the supplies of food. The horsemen now came thundering into view, over the crest of the hill: a full regiment of
Johjan Guards, led by Zohon himself.

The Manth people made no attempt to flee. They stood quietly, shivering in the pre-dawn cold, as the horse-soldiers formed a circle all round their camp. Zohon rode up to the leaders by the
fire, and pointed his silver hammer at them.

‘Where is she?’ he demanded. ‘Hand her over!’

‘Who?’ said Hanno, as politely as he could.

‘You know who! The Johdila!’

‘What is a Johdila, please?’

‘The princess! Give her to me!’ Zohon had passed a sleepless night on his search, and was now in such a state of exhausted fury that the slightest resistance drove him wild.

‘We have no princesses here.’

‘You defy me?’ Zohon screamed. ‘Kill them all! Every one of them!’

The tall Johjan Guards dismounted from their horses and drew their swords.

‘Why kill us?’ reasoned Hanno. ‘It won’t get you what you want.’

‘How do you know what I want?’ screeched Zohon. ‘Start with him! Kill him!’

He pointed his silver hammer at Hanno. A guard came striding towards him. Mumpo gripped his sword tight and braced himself to spring. The Manth people looked on, frozen with horror. The Johjan
Guard raised his sword –

‘Stop!’

Out rang a clear high commanding voice. Everyone turned to look. Out from behind the wagon stepped Sisi, head held high, magnificent in her sleek white dress, and veiled.

Zohon’s entire appearance changed. He softened. He smiled. All the bitterness and anger left him. He gestured to his men to sheathe their swords. With a light look now brightening his
weary but handsome face, he swung down from the saddle.

‘My lady,’ he said, and he made her a bow.

Sisi stood absolutely still, and said nothing. Zohon had half-expected her to throw herself into his arms with a cry of gratitude. But it struck him now that she was a princess, and not aware of
recent developments.

‘My lady,’ he said, ‘you see before you the Zohonna of Gang, Lord of a Million Souls.’

Still Sisi said nothing. Zohon began to find her silence awkward. Perhaps she was concerned about her father and mother. That would be natural enough.

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