Part 41 (1/2)

Mr Fiffengurt came to the stateroom at eight bells, carrying a jug of drinking water and a plate of Mr Teggatz's pigsfoot-and-barley ca.s.serole. He also bore the dismal news that the skiff had not returned from Bramian, and presumably would not do so before morning.

The quartermaster did not linger, for the s.h.i.+p was in an uproar of last-minute preparations for the voyage out. 'Don't worry about Pathkendle,' he said as he turned to go. 'The lad's no use to them dead. They may not like him, but they'll keep him safe.'

'It's not what they'll they'll do that worries me,' said Neeps. 'Pazel can get in trouble all by himself.' do that worries me,' said Neeps. 'Pazel can get in trouble all by himself.'

Neeps wanted to pounce on the ca.s.serole, but Thasha insisted on a fighting cla.s.s first, despite Hercol's absence.

'Forget your stomach for once,' she said, cutting off his objections before they began, 'and come at me hard, because if I don't think you're trying to kill me I'm blary well going to show you how it's done.'

Neeps hesitated, fuming. He wolfed one bite of the ca.s.serole, slammed down his fork and retreated to the washroom to change into his fighting-rags. Thasha whistled her dogs into her own cabin and changed as well, strapping the wooden s.h.i.+eld to her arm and tying a leather neck-guard in place.

They unscrewed the furniture and slid it against the walls, and rolled up the bearskin rug. While Marila sat reading quietly in a corner, and Felthrup balanced on the back of her chair, muttering and swaying with exhaustion, Thasha and Neeps battled all around the stateroom with the balsa swords.

For once Neeps rose to her challenge. He had long pa.s.sed the stage of angry charges, having tired of finding himself flat on the ground or symbolically beheaded. Thasha would not have told him (for Neeps' pride needed no encouragement) but she was astonished at his progress. He was the only young person she had ever known more hotheaded than herself, and yet here he was, biding his time, matching his movements to hers - fighting with his mind. And his form when attacking was better too: his jerky tarboy strength was mellowing into something more fluid, more likely to keep him alive.

It was almost a shame to have to keep winning. Still, Thasha could not approach combat with any outlook but victory: the sixth apothem reminded students that practice is never a game, but the prelude to a moment when a life may end.

'Surprise me,' she taunted him, darting from one side of a stanchion to another, bruising his left side and then his right, turning him at bay or forcing a retreat. 'Do something I haven't seen you do fifty times. Tired, are you? That's when you die, you Sollochi runt. Come at me!' Come at me!'

Neeps did not even blink. He was shutting out her insults, refusing to be drawn. To Thasha this seemed almost a miracle.

At last she raised her hand and stopped him. Neeps dropped his wooden sword and bent over, gasping, his face like a bruised tomato. He fumbled at the buckle on his s.h.i.+eld. 'You did well,' Thasha conceded, stepping towards him. 'What made the difference, this time?'

'I just--'

He slashed at her with the edge of his s.h.i.+eld, catching her squarely in the gut.

'--pretended--'

He had her down, pulled her against him, caught her neck in the crook of his arm.

'--that you were Raffa, Raffa--'

He spat the name, and tightened his grip uncomfortably. Thasha was furious - surprise me surprise me did not mean did not mean attack when the drill is over attack when the drill is over - and resolved to teach him a lesson. But when she thrust her elbow hard into his side, none too gently, his response was not at all what she expected. Instead of doubling over as she had done upon his s.h.i.+eld, Neeps hurled them both backwards onto the floor with amazing violence, and at the same time tightened his grip on her neck even further. - and resolved to teach him a lesson. But when she thrust her elbow hard into his side, none too gently, his response was not at all what she expected. Instead of doubling over as she had done upon his s.h.i.+eld, Neeps hurled them both backwards onto the floor with amazing violence, and at the same time tightened his grip on her neck even further. Much Much further: Thasha remembered the bite of her necklace: the youth's arm was crus.h.i.+ng her windpipe with the same deadly force. She clawed at him. She felt him buck and twist, slamming her face against the wooden floor, putting the weight of his chest against her temple. Her dogs were howling behind the cabin door; Marila was screaming, ' further: Thasha remembered the bite of her necklace: the youth's arm was crus.h.i.+ng her windpipe with the same deadly force. She clawed at him. She felt him buck and twist, slamming her face against the wooden floor, putting the weight of his chest against her temple. Her dogs were howling behind the cabin door; Marila was screaming, 'Stop it! Stop it!' and then came an explosion of gla.s.s and water. But Neeps did not stop, and Thasha felt her vision dim. She had a vague impression of his sweaty, wild-eyed face above her own, still mouthing the name. and then came an explosion of gla.s.s and water. But Neeps did not stop, and Thasha felt her vision dim. She had a vague impression of his sweaty, wild-eyed face above her own, still mouthing the name.

And then, thank all the G.o.ds, he let her go - and began to scream himself. Thasha fell on her side and saw Neeps throwing himself from side to side. Felthrup's teeth were locked on his ear.

'Let go! Let go! d.a.m.n you, Felthrup, you're out of your mind!'

'He's not!' shouted Marila, from the far side of the room. not!' shouted Marila, from the far side of the room.

Thasha drew a strangled breath, and Neeps whirled. A look of indescribable horror filled his eyes. 'Aya Rin,' he whispered. 'Thasha, Thasha. What've I done?'

Ten minutes later the four of them - Thasha, Marila, Neeps and Felthrup - were all collapsed together on the divan. Thasha was ma.s.saging her neck, while Felthrup teased bits of gla.s.s (shards of the water jug Marila had hurled at Neeps) - from his fur and the fabric of her s.h.i.+rt. Marila, leaning back against Thasha's knees, was holding one of the Great Peace dinner napkins against Neeps' b.l.o.o.d.y ear. Neeps himself sat curled in a ball, staring at nothing. When the lamp sputtered out they were glad of it; none of them could quite stand to look the others in the face.

'I almost let the dogs out,' said Marila.

'Oh G.o.ds,' said Thasha with a violent shudder. 'He would have died. I'd lost my voice, Marila, I couldn't have called them off. They'd have torn him to pieces.'

'That occurred to me,' said Marila, 'when I heard the door starting to splinter.'

'One of you was meant to die, I think,' said Felthrup.

'Neeps,' said Thasha, touching him with her foot. 'It wasn't you.'

'Yes it was,' said Neeps quietly. 'That's just it. The . . . madness. It came from inside me.'

'That still doesn't make it your fault,' said Marila.

'Then I'd like to know whose fault it is,' said Neeps.

'Now you are asking the right question,' said Felthrup.

'You were magicked, somehow,' said Marila, dabbing at his ear. 'I saw the change halfway through the practice session. Your eyes went all funny. I thought you'd had too many whacks on the head.'

'Thasha--' Neeps began.

Thasha squirmed abruptly; the divan shuddered and groaned. 'This blary thing's too small,' she said. 'Unless anyone wants dinner I suggest we all go to sleep.'

No one moved. 'I don't want to sleep,' said Felthrup.

'You've been up for days,' said Thasha.

'Neeps,' said Marila. 'You kept saying Raffa, Raffa Raffa, Raffa. What was all that about? Raffa who?'

Neeps took the napkin from her hand and turned to face the window. After a long silence he said, 'Undrabust.'

'Ah,' said Thasha.

Neeps' voice was hollow. 'I told Pazel a bit, once. How I jumped my s.h.i.+p when it landed at Sollochstol, and ran home to my village. And how the Arqualis came after me, and caught me the same afternoon. But that's not . . . the worst part.'

He looked at them, angry and beseeching. 'My older brother, Raffa, asked 'em how much it would cost for them to let me go, while they were still lounging around the village, drinking. Three pounds of pearls, they said. And Raffa haggled. Right there in front of me, wheedling like, until finally they caved in. ”Two pounds, since he's so small, and you're such a nuisance.” Raffa told 'em he'd see what he could find. The Arqualis said they'd only wait an hour. But in fact they waited all afternoon. They wanted those pearls more than they wanted me.

'Trouble was, so did Raffa. He was the best pearl diver in the village. He had boxes of 'em hidden in the smokehouse. He was saving up for a ticket to Opalt. A cousin had come back from there years before and told Raffa our palm roof was embarra.s.sing. He said Sollochis lived like animals. That Ballytween City was the place for a man to get ahead.'

Neeps fell silent. Thasha wanted to say something, but was afraid to; all at once she felt like a fraud. She'd grown up in a mansion on Maj Hill, in the heart of the world's greatest city. She remembered Syrarys combing her hair, telling her that they lived in the only place in Alifros that n.o.body could look down on. Why don't they hate me? Why don't they hate me? she thought. she thought. Why doesn't Pazel hate me? Why doesn't Pazel hate me?

'Raffa never came back that day,' said Neeps. 'I guess the price was too high.'

Marila silently touched his arm. They stayed there, motionless, listening to the thumping and bellowing of men on other decks. Fiffengurt had said the work might go on all night, but to Thasha the noise was soothing; the warm stateroom felt like the centre of a hive. As she closed her eyes she heard a wet sound that was either kissing or one of her dogs flopping down with a contented s...o...b..r. Then she realised Marila had her arms around Neeps. That blary vixen That blary vixen, she thought, and fell asleep.

Felthrup slunk away from the divan when Neeps and Marila began to kiss. He was not quite clear why humans did such things - the written accounts varied wildly - but he knew they did not much care to be watched in the act. He crept over to Suzyt, who lay beside the washroom door.

'I won't go to sleep,' he told her.