by Zoe Marriott
Luca took my forearm between his hands and unbuckled the vambrace, easing off my glove. His long fingers deftly manipulated my hand, bending it back and forth. He stopped when I winced, and stroked his thumb carefully over a deep red mark that would no doubt be a spectacular bruise later. My breath caught. I hoped that he hadn’t noticed.
“No sharp pain or grinding,” he said at last. “We’ll get Livia to give you some of her bruise salve, but other than that, the armour worked.”
“Good. Then I can scrub this dust away,” Arian said, as he bent to pick up the two halves of what had been his weapon. Dust billowed off him, and he shook his head and made a sound of disgust. “Whose idea was it to fight up here? Some person who thinks he’s terribly clever?”
Luca slapped Arian cheerfully on the back. More dust flew. “Oh, stop complaining. You’re worse than a cat. As soon as you get a new staff…”
The two headed down the hill. I followed slowly, grateful to have a moment to think about what had happened without either of them watching me.
I clenched and flexed my injured hand. The pain in the joint was already fading, along with the red mark. I turned over the glove I had been wearing. There was a thin coat of moisture on the leather. Sweat? If I had checked sooner, would I have seen frost there?
My teeth ground together. No. It was impossible. There hadn’t been any blood.
At that moment, Luca glanced back over his shoulder at me. His smile banished the chill of fear.
“Hurry up,” Arian called. “My back is one big itch.”
Father, help me to control the Wolf. I have to.
Half an hour later I stood waist deep in the river, watching soap suds turn grey with rock dust and float away. A couple of other women were washing near by – they sent me friendly smiles, which I returned absently. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, but it was nice to feel that I could, if I wanted to. I ducked under the water to rinse my hair, and emerged just as a shrill whistle rang out. Three short bursts. The other women started wading quickly towards the bank.
“What does it mean?” I called out.
“It’s the sentry alert,” one of them shouted. “Large body of strangers approaching.”
I splashed after them, all three of us gaining the bank at the same time and running to where we had left our clean clothes. I yanked on my breeches as the other women fumbled with theirs.
“The rebels?” I asked breathlessly, shoving damp feet into my boots. I didn’t wait for an answer but pulled on my leather jerkin, seized the wooden bucket someone had left there – not a perfect weapon, but better than nothing – and raced up the bank.
I bolted past the wooden outbuildings and the mess tent. The other hill guards were drawing weapons, grabbing armour. I should be doing the same, but I needed to find Luca first. If the camp was under attack I knew he would be right at the front, leading his men into battle, with Arian beside him. And the ones at the front were always the first to die.
“All clear! Stand down! Stand down!”
That was Luca’s voice. I skidded to a halt. All around me I heard sighs of relief and the silken sliding noises and soft snicking of blades going back into sheaths.
Luca was leading a group of men and women – Rua and Sedorne, some of them on foot, others leading horses laden with bulging saddlebags – into the camp. They were dressed in plain, hard-wearing clothes and a coat of travel dirt. I had never seen any of them before in my life, but they somehow had a familiar look, both cheerful and formidable.
The men and women of the hill guard ran forward to greet the newcomers, calling out names and embracing the strangers like long-lost friends.
Luca’s reinforcements had finally arrived.
Eighteen
Looking around me, I guessed that there were at least fifty new soldiers joining the hill guard. Our numbers had been strengthened by a full third. Luca must be overjoyed. He certainly looked it. He stood, grinning and laughing, right in the middle of the crowd of new arrivals. I felt the familiar warm tug in my chest, a reaction I couldn’t seem to control. I opened my mouth to call out – and froze as I saw that he was embracing a woman.
She was short and dark-skinned, with a tattoo covering most of the left side of her face; her hair was braided in dozens of zigzagging rows. A wide, beautiful smile lit her face as she drew back from Luca’s hug and rose on tiptoes to kiss him hard on the lips.
The wooden bucket fell out of my hands. I jerked my gaze down, my chest tightening agonizingly. I wheezed around the pain and turned away so that I could run from the scene. Before I could take a step, Luca called my name.
I tried to arrange my expression into something blank, neutral. River stones. River stones. I looked up to see him coming towards me, his arm around the shoulder of the dark-skinned woman. I remembered times when he had held me in just such a way, and how it had made me feel. Did she feel the same way now? What about him? He had not flinched away when she had kissed him.
Of course not. She was not an exile, a homeless wanderer, a raggy scrap picked up out of pity. She was beautiful.
Please, oh, please, Father, don’t let any of this show on my face.
“Frost, this is Hind,” Luca said. The happiness in his voice made me feel as if I had been kicked by a mule. “She’s the leader of this motley band the king has sent us. Hind, this is my – Frost. She’s only just joined us, but she’s going to be one of our best. Say hello.”
I made a little bow, then forced myself to hold my hand out to the other woman politely in the way that I had seen other hill guards greet one another. “Nice to meet you.” My voice was barely above a mumble, but the hubbub around us was so loud, I hoped she wouldn’t notice.
The woman – Hind – stepped away from Luca to take my hand. I noted miserably that her hand was very small compared to mine. Delicate, but strong. Her clasp was firm. She was slender, compactly muscular. I felt hulking and awkward next to her, like a carthorse that had decided to get up on its back legs and don human clothes.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Hind said. Her eyes travelled slowly up and down my body, assessing me. “My, but you’re a big one, aren’t you? What’s your weapon of choice?”
“None of that,” Luca interrupted, his smile fading abruptly. He caught Hind’s hand and pulled her back, making her release me. “Let me introduce you to Adela. You two will get on very well. I’ll see you later, Frost – stay out of trouble.”
Luca plunged into the crowd, dragging a clearly reluctant Hind after him. Hind winked at me. I dropped my gaze again. The deep ache was spreading. Every part of me throbbed with it. I wanted to sink down onto the grass and curl up into a ball. Why does it hurt so much? Why does it have to hurt? I rubbed roughly at my breastbone, flicking the wolf tooth out of the way.
Finally I realized that I was standing conspicuously in the middle of the joyful, babbling crowd with my hair fluffing up around my face, dressed in hurriedly pulled on damp clothes. I bent down to pick up the dropped bucket and the chunk of soap that had bounced out of it, intending to retreat to Luca’s tent and hide.
A blunt, callused hand got to the soap before me.
I stared at Arian blankly, blinked, then took the soap. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
We both straightened up. I nodded at Arian and began to move past him. He made a restless gesture, as if he meant to catch my arm, then thought better of it. I halted, surprised.
He opened and closed his mouth. Finally he spoke: “He’s known Hind for years. They’re friends. That’s all.”
Before I could even try to think of a reply, he had walked off, leaving me speechless, my face burning.
The hill guard greeted Hind and her men like long-lost members of the family. The normal chores and activities of the day were cast aside. Tents were thrown open. Cook-fires were stoked up. Jars of ale and barrels of the potent honey-and-apple drink which the hill guard ordered by the cartload were brought out and uncorked. Food was carried from
the mess tent, along with stools and blankets and boxes and anything else that could be used as a seat. As the light began to dim, a great blaze was built in the central firepit, and the musically inclined gathered around it. They played lively reels and jigs on drum, flute, spike-fiddle and bone-harp. Those hill guards who played no instrument pulled the new arrivals up to dance with them.
The clearing was filled with laughter and singing and the perfume of woodsmoke. Everyone was occupied with old friends. Livia, with whom I would normally have sought refuge, was seated near the fire in deep discussion with the new healer the reinforcements had brought – a tiny Rua woman who didn’t look old enough to bake bread, let alone stitch up people’s wounds. I found myself sharing a blanket with Luca, Arian and Hind. Hind and Luca talked and laughed, completely at ease, as they gossiped about people I had never heard of and Luca’s old life at the palace. Even Arian, drinking ale for the first time since I had known him, put in an occasional comment or question.
I clutched at my wolf tooth and pretended that I was too interested in the music to talk. This was supposed to be a happy time. Everyone else was happy. But the sound of Luca and Hind’s mingled laughter and the sight of Hind’s hand resting casually on Luca’s calf made me so angry and sad – and so ashamed of those feelings – that I felt sick. Just when I had begun to rely on things to stay the same, it was all changing.
Stupid. Things never stay the same. And you can’t rely on anything. Luca let out a shout of laughter at something Hind had said and gave her one of his casual, one-armed hugs. Or anyone.
“Who’s going to sing next?” Razia – a young hill guard that I knew slightly – cried out, staggering as she jumped up. “I know! Frost! You haven’t sung for weeks. Come on, it’s your turn now!” She rushed over to me and grabbed my hands, trying to heave me to my feet. I shook my head wordlessly, pulling my hands away.
“Frost!” Livia shouted from her place near the bonfire. “They’re going to play ‘The Falling Night’! That’s your favourite, isn’t it?”
I was surprised and pleased that Livia had noticed such a small, silly thing about me, but I shook my head again.
“I’d like to hear it. That’s one of my favourite songs too,” Hind chimed in. Something must have shown on my face; she back-pedalled quickly. “Oh, but not if Frost doesn’t want to, of course.”
“She’s just a bit shy around strangers,” Luca said, throwing me a smiling, conspiratorial glance, as if we were in on some joke together. For once I felt no temptation to smile back. Luca didn’t seem to notice – he was looking at Arian now. “Arian and Frost should sing together.”
Arian choked on his swallow of beer and turned a fulminatory look on Luca. Arian lifting his growly voice in a sweet love ballad like “The Falling Night”? No wonder he was glaring.
Luca ignored Arian’s look and turned back to me. “You wouldn’t be shy if you didn’t have to sing alone, would you? You’ve never heard Arian sing, either. He’s very good.”
“He used to sing!” Razia said. “He sang for us at the Mother’s Fire all the time before Frost…” Her voice trailed off.
There was an awkward silence. I felt as if a skin of ice were forming around me, separating me from everyone else. I looked down at my tightly clenched fists, certain that all the hill guards must be staring at me, either with pity or accusation. Before Frost came, Razia had been going to say. Hind cleared her throat as if to say something. I hunched my shoulders.
Arian sighed. “All right.”
He reached out and took one of my hands. The rough skin of his calluses scraped against my palm and, with a powerful heave, he pulled me to my feet. There was no chance of resisting him as I had Razia. His fingers squeezed mine for a second before he released me. “They’ll never shut up otherwise,” he said. “You take the first verse, I’ll take the second, and we can sing together in the chorus.”
A slightly drunken cheer went up, as if that settled everything. Luca grinned. I let out a miserable huff of breath as I realized that continuing to refuse would only draw even more attention to me. Better to just get it over with. I followed Arian to the fire. Razia tottered after us and sank down next to the new healer. Livia gave me an encouraging wave.
We sat. I clasped my hands nervously between my knees, keeping my eyes away from the firepit. The flames crackled and popped, red and yellow, like normal flames – but I no longer trusted fire in this country. I fixed my attention on the dancing shadow-shapes that the flames cast on Arian’s face. “You didn’t have to, you know,” I mumbled to him.
A tiny smile twitched one corner of his lips. But his voice was his normal flat, brusque growl when he spoke. “Stupid. It’s only a song.” He nodded to the musician.
The man lifted his wood pipe and began to play the first sweet, high trills of the love song.
I swallowed hard, cleared my throat and forced out the first lines of the ballad.
“The falling night has cast your eyes
In lights of blue with far-off stars.
And in the dark, your arms are mountains
To shelter me from the rising storm…”
Another of the camp’s musicians came in with a lute as the chorus began, and a beautiful, deep voice took up the words of the song, harmonizing perfectly with mine. It was a voice I had heard before. The voice that had made me hesitate as I had escaped from the hill-guard camp that first night. The voice that had welcomed me when I had found my way back. Arian’s voice?
I gazed at his face as our voices entwined in the simple, beautiful words.
“Sweetling, storms may chase me
Snowflakes fall
But I will be safe in your heart.
Lightning crash
Waters flood
Yet I will be safe in your heart.”
I closed my mouth with a snap and Arian carried on, moving into the second verse with the accompaniment of the lute and wood flute.
“The falling night has hid your bright hair
And stole away your shining smile.
But in the dark I feel your heart
And know it beats for me alone.”
Arian nodded at me and I sucked in a breath – not even realizing that I had held it while he sang – and joined him in the chorus. “Sweetling, storms may chase me…” The flute rose in a final bright curl of notes as we fell silent, and the lute died away.
“You should sing together again,” one of the musicians said, his voice hushed. “You suit each other.”
There was a rustle of movement as Arian leaned towards me. “Frost…”
Luca appeared beside us, smiling. “You were wonderful. Come on. Quiet, everyone! I have an announcement!”
Taking me by the hand, he pulled me to my feet and lead me away from the fire. I glanced back once. Arian had stayed behind on his stool, staring into the flames.
The hill guards fell silent around us. Torches had been lit on the edges of the clearing now, and the faces around me flickered enigmatically with firelight.
“Weeks ago,” Luca continued, raising his voice so that everyone could hear, “when Frost came here, she laid down her axe and traded it for practice weapons. I told her that she wouldn’t be allowed to use it again until I felt sure she wouldn’t hurt herself or anyone else with it.”
There was a small ripple of laughter, which Luca ignored. He looked at me now, his dark eyes full of pride and warmth as he continued: “That axe had belonged to her father and to his father, and it was a noble weapon. I know that it took an immense leap of faith for Frost to put it to one side. But she did. And today, standing before us, we have a warrior who is fit to handle any weapon. I present Frost to you now, no longer as a trainee, but as the newest hill guard.”
The hill guards whooped and clapped, stamping their feet.
Luca let go of me to reach behind him for a sackcloth bundle. He held it out, letting the rough material fall to the ground. “We’ve spruced her up a little. Sharpened her blades, replaced the r
usting langets. Given her a polish. I hope you don’t mind?”
I shook my head wordlessly. My hands reached out of their own volition, fingers curling slowly and reverently around the smooth wood of the stave. The newly gleaming wood felt as natural and familiar to me as my own arm or leg. Light moved across the twin blades, iridescent as ice on the surface of water. The weapon moved lightly in my hands, weighing nothing to me now. I spun it smoothly and then brought it diagonally across my body into guard position. A singing sense of rightness filled me. I had been parted from a piece of myself. Now I had it back, and it felt wonderful.
“Don’t kiss it,” Hind said teasingly. She had her arm around Adela. “Luca’ll get jealous.”
I frowned at the other woman, on the verge of deciding to seriously dislike her. But Luca distracted me by shouting, “I think this calls for more drinks!”
With a roar of approval, several hill guards hurried off to fetch out the last of the ale. Under cover of the renewed noise, Luca stepped closer.
“Frost…” He cleared his throat, suddenly unsure. Then his face cleared, as if he had found the answer to a puzzle. “Do you realize you’re still covered in rock dust?”
I put one hand up to my face self-consciously. “Where?”
“It’s in your hair, all over your face and neck – did you even bother bathing?”
“Of course I did! The alert sounded while I was in the river.” I ran my fingers over the quick and careless braid that I had pinned around my skull. Dust drifted down past my face and when I looked at my hand it was streaked with grey. I had dunked my head in the river, but the dust must have clung to my thick hair, and started flaking off as it dried. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Maybe they thought you were ageing prematurely and didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Luca said innocently.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
