used to over the years.
‘I never said any such thing.’
‘I didn’t dream it. In the woods by the beach. You asked me if I saw her actually die and I said yes, and then you asked if I was sure as though you knew something that I didn’t. Like maybe that other sword-monk got to her in time and did that thing that one of them did to you when she smashed up your knee. Why did you tell me that if it’s not true?’
‘I’ve told you before: I didn’t tell you anything. If you didn’t dream it then it must have been someone else.’ Master Sy spat into the dirt and picked up his shovel.
‘Did
‘I saw the same as you. No one lives through a cut like that. She’s dead, Berren. I’m sorry I had to kill her but I did. I didn’t know she meant so much to you. Actually I thought you didn’t like her.’
‘Would it have changed anything?’
Syannis shook his head. ‘In the heat of the moment? No, I don’t think it would.’
‘I’d never seen so much blood.’ Berren looked away. He could see her again now, lying on Radek’s ship with her throat torn open. He’d be able to see that moment whenever he wanted for the rest of his life. Everything else, the times they’d spent together in her fighting circle, the moments alone, the touch of her cheek on his hand, all those were slowly fading, but the last memory stayed as clear as though it was yesterday.
‘Why did you stay here, Berren? Why didn’t you go back to Deephaven?’
Berren stopped. He turned on the thief-taker and glared. ‘Back to what? You took everything!’ He shook his head. ‘Being a soldier, even if it means digging privies for a twelvenight, is better than being a thief, never knowing where your next meal is coming from, never knowing when you might be caught and what will happen when you are — a beating, a branding, maybe a broken bone or two; maybe they’ll take your hand off, or maybe they’ll just stick a knife in you and roll you into the river. You don’t know what it’s like, because you’ve never had to do it.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m a foreigner, a dark-skin from across the sea and a warlock’s boy too, so the other soldiers here don’t like me much, but I still hear their stories. They’re people who lost their homes, lost their families or never had anything in the first place. They dream of saving enough silver to buy a piece of land, build a home, raise a family. .’ He chuckled, thinking of the Hawks who had other dreams. Tarn wanted to start his own fighting school and there were a couple who were set on buying their own forges. And then there was Divan, who wasn’t quite right in the head, and who was firmly convinced that he’d stop being a Hawk one day and travel to the sandy wastes at the southern end of the world to live in a palace of gold and marble and be waited on by exactly three hundred and twelve concubines. The smile faded from his face. ‘Even Talon’s lost his home,’ he said. ‘They’re wanderers. I fit.’
‘You should go back, Berren.’
Berren started shovelling the contents of yet another old privy onto the back of a wagon. He was up to his knees in excrement and slime when he saw that Syannis had stopped and was standing over him.
‘I’m sorry,’ Syannis said again. ‘But that’s all. That’s all I have for you. If that’s not good enough then get on a ship and leave.’
‘You should have told me,’ Berren said, his voice dull. ‘You should have let me help you. You should have let me be a part of it.’
‘And you should have stayed where you were put, listened to what you were told and done what you were asked.’
Berren glared at him. ‘Would you?’
‘No. No, I doubt that I would.’
‘Well then.’ Berren climbed out of his hole and stood face to face with the thief-taker. His hands and his shoes and his trousers were covered in filth. Somehow, Syannis didn’t seem to be nearly as dirty as he should be. ‘Still shouldn’t have.’ He grabbed Syannis’s shirt and pulled hard, throwing him into the privy. Then he looked down at his old master, up to his knees in shit, hands covered in filth and a face covered in outrage. He laughed, even as there were tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘I can’t forget her. I just can’t.’
‘Boy!’ Syannis looked ready to explode.
‘Not something that’s supposed to happen to a king’s son, eh?’ Berren barked a bitter laugh. ‘Where I grew up you could be stabbed in the street for a few pieces of copper. Life is cheaper than gold or silver and worth more than both. Nothing changes, wherever I go. And I’m not your
The thief-taker stared up at him. The anger in his face slowly changed and he started to laugh. ‘You’re a whoreson, Berren, you truly are.’
‘It does seem likely.’ Berren shrugged.
‘You want to play it like this? Fine.’ Syannis picked up a handful of filth and threw it. Berren ducked and it sailed past his face. The thief-taker started to climb out. ‘You’re going back in that hole, boy. One way or another.’
Berren picked up a spade and held it like an axe. ‘You and who’s army, king’s bastard?’
Syannis was still laughing, but there was a glint in his eye of the old anger, that dangerous look just before he took someone’s head off. This time Berren knew exactly how he felt, but halfway out of the pit, Syannis stopped. He pointed.
‘Maybe that one.’
20
Berren followed the thief-taker’s finger. Through the maze of tents, a posse of soldiers were weaving their way towards the castle. They weren’t wearing the purple of the king’s guard, the green of the men from Kalda, or the brown and black of the Mountain Panther.
‘Come on! Help me out!’ Syannis thrust a hand towards Berren. Berren pulled him out of the pit and then followed as Syannis ran to the palisade. They climbed up, ignoring the shouts of nearby soldiers. Down in the harbour two fat-bellied ships that hadn’t been there in the morning now wallowed in the water. If he squinted, Berren thought he could see longboats inching their way towards the shore.
‘Oi!’ There was an angry shout from below and behind them. ‘You two!’ A soldier was staring up, waving his fist. ‘What do you think you’re doing up there? Get down and get back to work!’
Berren hurried down and ran back towards the privies with Syannis hot behind him, hoping the soldier would ignore them, but he followed. ‘We were just-’ started the thief-taker, but the soldier stopped him with a glare.
‘I don’t care what you was just — you want to work, you work!’ He pointed at a patch of clear ground. ‘A new one. There. When you’ve done that, this one needs filling in and that one needs digging out. Looks like there’s going to be a lot of work for you two today, and you’d better put your backs into it if you don’t want to go home hungry.’
‘Ain’t you got enough shit holes?’ Berren laughed.
The soldier snorted. ‘Got another company shipping in, haven’t we?’ The sneer in his words was clear. Not
Berren dug, and Syannis too. They looked up now and then, watching what was happening. The castle yard grew busier. More tents sprouted up. New soldiers began to arrive, these ones in grey with a black sword, point down, emblazoned on their tunics. Now and then Berren caught sight of an archer or two, with longbows as tall as a man slung over their shoulders. They walked tall and proud, with a swagger as though they expected everyone else to move aside for them. Later in the afternoon came an even more startling sight. Six men armoured in shining
