'Let me have some,' I begged.
So we sat there in the sun, what a strange couple, the little girl and me. She kept sticking her finger in the pot and giving it to me to lick until at last all the honey was gone, the pot wiped clean. Then she half curled herself up and leaned on my lap and fell asleep.
So strange, but it was so comforting to have her there. I figured she had to be some sort of halfman. After a bit I was uncomfortable, and I shifted. She stretched, yawned, and leaned over to kiss me goodbye on the cheek, just like a child. Then she made to go.
I panicked at her first step. 'No! No!' I began. And at once, the earth jumped. The air was full of squealing and roaring and screaming. The girl made this weird spitting noise. She jumped about a foot in the air and hit the ground running. She disappeared at once; she must've been some sort of halfman to move so fast. I didn't even see her go. The Pig came rushing past me on her tail. He had no chance. He ran up to a half-standing corner of brick wall and started trying to pull it to bits. He seemed to have got his rage fixed on that little cat I'd seen earlier, which was clinging to the ivy up there. After a while it jumped down and ran off. The Pig was after it in a second, but he was no match for the little cat. Just like the girl said, he was huge and strong, but he certainly wasn't built for speed. He spent ages stamping about screaming and foaming at the mouth, banging through the bushes and charging bits of broken masonry, but the little cat – and the girl, too, I guess – were long gone.
Then he came back to have a look at me.
He grunted something, I don't know what. Maybe he was inviting me to dinner. He leaned on one fat hand and reached the other up to my face. His hand was filthy and it stank of pork. He grabbed at my throat, but just as the girl had predicted, he smelt the sweetness on my face. He sniffed. He licked at some of it that had got on his hands. He grunted in pleasure. Then he leaned forward to lick the honey off my face.
I didn't believe a word of what she'd told me, but I did as she said anyway. I leaned forward and seized the fat wet end of his snout in my teeth. And I bit. I bit as deep and as hard as I could.
The next thing my jaw was popping and there was the foul blast of hot air from his mouth in my face as he bellowed in pain. He pulled back. I hung on, I bit. He had to stop pulling, it hurt him so bad. He started screaming and beat at me with his hands, on my face, on my body, trying to get me to let go. I was a pulp already, but I just thought, the more I hurt, the more you hurt, pal. I clenched my jaws and the hot salty blood ran down over my chin. I squeezed with my teeth, hard, hard, hard. If he'd had the sense to squeeze my neck it'd've been over, but he was panicking. He pulled back again, but the pain was too much. Then at last he seized me in his hands and pulled me towards him, me hanging on his nose like something in a cartoon.
The chains bit in my chest and into my arms. I could feel my hands squashing, the bones cracking and crushing as they pulled against the steel manacles. He pulled, I bit, I hung on. I was screaming, he was screaming. The agony was like a blinding light.
There was a crack. A chain spun round and lashed the Kg in the face. I bit, I hung on. The Pig hauled at me again. Another chain… then the final chain burst open and the Pig fell back with the force of his pull released. We tumbled head over heels together, over and over and in the tumble I got my broken hand up and poked him in the eye, hard as hell. He squealed. He dropped me and began dancing round and round in circles howling and screeching. And me… I got to my feet and I ran.
Well, I say ran – scuttled, more like. I'd been stuck in chains for three days. You don't just jump out of a bed like that and run. My legs were twitching and jerking and then collapsing underneath me, I couldn't get them straight. I was covered in deep bloody welts where the chains had dug in me; I had half the skin off me from the battle, I had broken bones in my hands. I kept falling down and jumping up again. I was bounding along like something on an elastic band.
It was a few seconds before he realised what was going on. I heard him shout and leap forward and I knew at once I wasn't going to make it. It was all right for that girl to say he was slow, but what about me? I felt like a bent chicken on stilts.
I staggered forward; he roared after me…
Then there was a squeal. I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of the little tortoiseshell cat on top of the Pig's head, clawing at his eyes. The Pig was running full pelt on all fours and he lifted his hands up to protect his eyes and ran bloody snout first into the dust. Stupid beast! That must've hurt! He was up again in a second, yelling abuse and staring this way and that, not sure whether to go after me or the cat, which was yowling at him from a smashed-up window ledge. It gave me my chance. I found a wall and crawled up it. By the time he jumped for me I was up in the air and out of reach.
I'd done it… I'd done it! I couldn't believe I'd done it! Well, me and that little cat had done it. The Pig was furious. You never heard anything like it. He tried to butt the wall to pieces; the whole thing trembled, but it was too strong for him. Then he tried to haul himself up on those huge hands of his, but he was far too fat to climb anything steeper than a bagatelle board. He tried tearing the wall to bits but he couldn't do that either. He was getting into a right state, roaring and weeping and beating the ground in frustration with his hands. Would you believe it, he even got on his knees and begged me to come down!
'Dinna please… dinna please… Piggy look after you!' he pleaded. He battered and beat and yelled and howled and begged for ages before he gave up. Then he sat down like a dog and stared up, waiting for me to show myself.
So my ordeal wasn't over. I had to wait up there for another day before he finally gave up. Fortunately the wall was covered in ivy, so I was able to crawl out of sight, or the birds would've spotted me. As it was, I fully expected something that was able to climb to come and get me, but nothing did. I spent the night curled up in a bed of leaves and ivy shoots, and in the morning the Pig was gone.
Well, mat's the story of my first nights in the halfman lands. I'd got away, but I was half dead. My hands looked like a takeaway, my jaw was broken in about ten places. My face was swollen to twice its normal size and it felt like jam to the touch. I climbed down and pottered about till I found a puddle and drank the sweetest tasting water that there ever was. It was probably Pig piss, but it tasted like nectar to me. I half expected the Pig to be hiding and to come and get me as soon as my feet touched the ground, but I guess he wasn't all that good at clever things, like waiting.
I thought to myself, so I've escaped the Pig. So what? I was stuck in the halfman lands with no food and no weapons.
After a while I found some still clear water and got a look at myself. You never saw such a mess. I thought, well, if I do meet a halfman, they'll probably think I'm one of them, now.
I had no plan. What kind of plan could I have? I set off into the day… and what a day. It was as blue and as bright as a jewel and full of more dangers than I knew how to count.
35
Signy knew that Conor would come to see her sooner or later. He would come to gloat, if nothing else – to show her how stupid she had been, stupid in body, heart and soul. He would come to kill her, or rape her. Certainly to mock her. Perhaps he would bring with him another woman, one she was certain he had, his real wife, his real love.
But when he came it was worse even than she had thought possible. He came for forgiveness. He wanted her to love him again.
At first she thought it was another act of war – to take her like a trophy. His arms around her, his fingers on her face were a signal of violence to come. But it was genuine. He was as pale as a ghost with the shock of what he'd done. He stared at her with tears in his eyes and begged. 'I want to comfort you! I love you,' he said. 'I love you!' There was certainty in his voice. He didn't doubt it for a second.
Signy drew her crippled legs up to herself with her hand and wept 'How could you pretend so much?' she cried. 'What kind of man are you?'
Conor licked his lips and got to his feet. 'A conqueror,' he said. And that was the truth.
He walked over to the window and looked out. He knew she was watching him. He was the centre of her universe.
'There was no choice,' he told her. 'Do you think I wanted it?'
