‘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.
‘Your esteemed father,’ he explained, ‘has relinquished the throne to me. He and your mother are safe, and under my protection.’
Still Sisi did not speak. Zohon began to twitch the silver hammer in his right hand, not aware that he was doing so. There remained only one more thing to say. No doubt in her modesty it was this she was waiting to hear, before lifting her veil and taking him in her arms.
‘I ask, my lady, for your hand in marriage.’
Slowly, at last, Sisi raised one hand, and drew the veil from her face. Zohon gazed at her in wonder. She was so beautiful! More beautiful than even he had ever dreamed!
‘My lady! May I dare hope –?’
He went down on one knee.
‘Stand up!’ commanded Sisi. ‘Never address me in this way again!’
Zohon turned a deep red, and rose to his feet.
‘My lady, I understood –’ he turned to glower at Kestrel, ‘that you shared my hopes.’
‘Kess! Did you tell this person that I had any interest in him of any kind?’
Kestrel marvelled at Sisi. She was so grand, so imperious.
‘I told him you would love the one who set you free,’ she said. ‘The one who made your country great again.’
‘There, my lady!’ Zohon recovered some of his composure. ‘Who but I can make our country great?’
‘Are you the heir to the throne?’ said Sisi with withering scorn. ‘I shall make our country great myself.’
Zohon gaped. He still couldn’t quite take in what was happening.
‘You reject my proposal?’
The Johdila inclined her queenly head.
‘Am I to be given a reason?’
‘You are a nothing,’ said Sisi. ‘I have no need of you. I have no interest in you. You may go now.’
The scene began to swim before Zohon’s eyes. His hands started to sweat, and he heard a galloping pounding noise in his ears. He struggled to speak, but hardly knew what to say. Then he heard a muffled choking sound, followed by another like it. All at once he realised that everyone was laughing at him.
The red mist cleared from his brain. His mighty vanity came flooding back. He stood tall once more.
‘Draw your swords!’ he commanded his guards. ‘If anyone moves, kill them!’
He then gestured brusquely to two of his men.
‘Seize this woman! Hold her!’
Two officers stepped forward and grasped Sisi by either arm. Angrily, she shook her arms to release herself, but the guards did not let go. Zohon drew a long breath. He felt calm and strong once more.
‘My lady,’ he said, ‘I will put my proposal to you in a different way.’ He spun his silver hammer round, so that the sharp steel blade was towards her. ‘You will marry me, or you will die.’
‘Baby, no!’ cried Lunki, vibrating with horror.
No one else made a sound. They’re not laughing at me now, thought Zohon grimly. The Johdila stared back at him, her eyes ice-cool with defiance. She looked more beautiful than ever. What a couple we’ll make, thought Zohon. How handsome our children will be!
‘Kill me, then!’ said Sisi.
Zohon blinked. For a second, his new-found confidence wavered. Then he understood.
‘You don’t believe me.’
‘Oh, I believe you. This is just the kind of battle you like best. An unarmed woman held helpless before you. What a fearful foe! How brave you must be to stand up to her!’
‘Be quiet!’
‘Let everyone see the Hammer of Gang strike his most glorious blow!’
‘Enough, I say!’ He lowered his blade. As he did so, he caught in her eyes a flash of contemptuous triumph. With that one look, all his stored love turned to hatred. As intensely as he had wanted to kiss her and caress her before, he now wanted to hurt her. She had wounded him in his deepest heart, which is to say, in his pride, and now he wanted to humiliate her in return, to take from her everything she had, to break her high spirit, to make her crawl and beg for forgiveness. He no longer wanted her to die. He wanted far more, and far worse. He wanted her to live, and suffer, and regret. He wanted her to curse the day she lost his love, and with it all her chance of happiness.
As the hatred rose within him, he looked on her and marvelled at her beauty. It seemed to him that she taunted him with this beauty that he could not possess. Then the rising wave broke within him, and hatred flooded his mind. With one quick movement, he swept his blade down her left cheek. A line of scarlet beads followed the blade, and swelled, and flowed into each other, and rolled down her face. The watching people went still with shock, not moving, barely breathing.
‘I kill your beauty,’ said Zohon.
Sisi never so much as blinked. Instead, slowly, proudly, she turned her unmarked cheek towards him. Still defiant! With a second savage slash of his blade, Zohon cut that cheek too.
‘May the scars never heal!’
With these bitter words, he gestured to his men to release her, and strode back to his horse. Once in
the saddle, he called in his commanding voice,
‘Ride on! There’s nothing worth having here!’
The Johjan Guards formed up, and rode away over the brow of the hill. Sisi stood where she had been left, the blood now streaming down both cheeks, and over her neck, to stain her white wedding dress. Lunki hurried to her on one side, and Kestrel on the other, and they staunched the flow of blood with the sleeves and hems of their garments, and called for water, and washed her face and neck. All this time, while Lunki sobbed and Kestrel issued commands, Sisi stood still, her eyes dry.
‘Get her something to drink! She’s trembling.’
‘Oh, my pet, oh, my sweetie, oh, my baby! All gone, all gone!’
‘The cuts are shallow, said Kestrel. ‘Look, the bleeding’s stopping already.’
‘But her sweet lovely face – oh, oh, oh!’
Ira Hath brought Sisi a cup of milk, and held it up to her lips. Sisi sipped a little.
‘You’re a very brave young woman,’ she said.
Sisi shivered. The wind was growing colder as dawn broke. All round the camp, people were rolling up their blankets and preparing to leave. Beyond the wagon, Creoth was milking his cows. The driver was harnessing the horses.
‘Bring her a blanket,’ said Kestrel. They wrapped a blanket round Sisi’s thin trembling body. Lunki went on dabbing at the cuts on her cheeks until Sisi pushed her away.
‘Get me a mirror, Lunki. I want to see.’
‘No, baby, no. You don’t want to see.’
‘I do. Get me a mirror.’ It hurt her to talk. Lunki saw her wince, and wrung her fat hands with grief.
There were no mirrors. Kestrel poured water into a bowl, and when the water was still, Sisi bent over the bowl and looked at her reflection. She looked carefully, seeing how the two cuts ran in converging diagonal lines from cheekbones to jaw, changing her appearance utterly. All the softness was gone, all the delicacy. She looked older, harder, wilder. The blood was congealing in two irregular lines, dark red against her cold white skin.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Kestrel.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ said Sisi quietly. ‘I can be me now.’
Kestrel bit her lip. Sisi’s quiet acceptance touched her more deeply than all Lunki’s wails and sobs. She saw her brother watching them, and knew he felt it too.
‘Can I still come with you?’
William Nicholson - [Wind on Fire 02] Page 28
