The Sterkarm Handshake (44 page)

24

16th Side: Back to the Tube

The rocks and trees of the valley showed gray against gray, and the trickling of the small stream seemed to grow louder, the smell of earth and leaves stronger. Birds began to chitter. Bryce said, “Let's make a move, before we freeze solid.”

Getting up wasn't easy. They were all cramped, and their bruises had stiffened. Andrea saw Per, his hands still tied behind him, hauled to his feet by Bryce. In the early gray light his face, as he looked around for her, was merely a pale smudge, obscured by the mud dried on it.

On tender, sore feet, they limped down the narrow valley, clambering over and around the many boulders, which were at least easier to see in the growing light. Andrea's blisters hurt at every step. She tried not to look at the men around her, who still glowered at her. Ahead of her, Per stumbled as Bryce pulled him along by his belt, and as Windsor shoved him from behind. The gag was still in Bryce's pocket; that was one good thing.

The light strengthened, bringing delicate color into the hills above them. Green thornbushes and ferns emerged from the morning dusk, and the birds shrilled louder.

At the spot where the ravine opened into Bedesdale, they stopped to catch breath. It was nearly full light and the valley before them was shining green. Distantly came the sound of the river. Andrea shivered as she looked. It was very beautiful, and cold. She turned and saw Per standing beside Bryce. Per was staring at her, waiting to catch her eye, his pale-blue eyes bright in his mask of dirt. He mouthed at her,
“Thu air sikka.”
Thou art safe.

She doubted it. In the clear light she could see three mounted men riding by the river, each carrying a long lance. As they watched, one of the men raised his lance high in the air, signaling to someone, and then used the lance to point to them.

Per smiled. The scouts had seen them, and had told the main party where they were. He looked again at Andrea.

“The Sterkarms are at the ford,” she said, for Bryce to hear. The low land near the river was hidden from them by folds of ground.

Bryce, squinting, looked around, wondering if there was somewhere else they could cross, and almost grinned as he realized it made no difference. He must be too tired to think straight. Even if they could afford to walk miles to find another ford, the Sterkarms were mounted. Wherever they went, the Sterkarms would overtake them.

“Well, we've got Sunny Jim here.” Bryce pulled his sleeve over his hand, spat on it and, gripping Per by the hair with his other hand, scrubbed the wetted sleeve over his face. When Per turned his face aside, Bryce pulled his head around again. “Not used to washing, eh? But we want you spruced up and looking your best.”

Andrea thought Bryce was making a mistake. As the dirt was wiped away, the marks on Per's face showed more clearly. His nose was reddened and slightly swollen out of shape. There was a cut on his left eyebrow, and the eye below it was swelling, darkening and closing. His lower lip was noticeably puffed up, and at the corners of his mouth were grazes made by the cord that had held the gag. Toorkild's people teased Per about his girl's face, but they were proud of his looks too. They would see this spoiling of them as a vandalism of their property.

Still grasping a handful of Per's hair, Bryce studied him. Per stared back, his face blank.

“He's got some bottle,” Bryce said. “I'll give him that.”

Andrea thought that it couldn't hurt, even now, to try and build a bridge between the two sides. “He says thou'rt brave,” she told Per.

Per glanced at her, and then gave Bryce a sidelong look that held all the contempt a Sterkarm could have for the opinion of anyone not a Sterkarm.

From his pocket, Bryce took the sock and bootlace. Per, who'd been silent and obedient for so long, stepped sharply back, colliding with the men behind him.
“Nigh! Yi skal nigh snakka. Min urd, yi lerfta.”
No! I shall not speak. My word, I promise.

“Sorry, Sunshine,” Bryce said. The men behind Per took his arms and held him. Windsor came up, ready to help.

Andrea nodded toward the horsemen who still sat, at a distance, watching. “Are you going to do this in front of
them
?”

Bryce ignored her.

Per had reckoned on a little while yet before they tried to silence him. He leaned back against the men who held him, craning his neck, trying to see the horsemen. He filled his lungs and tried to yell, but his hoarse, strained throat pinched out the sound even before a hand came over his mouth.

Andrea said, “Per, don't make it harder—”

But Per had suffered the gag once, and that was more than enough. If he could break free, he could run toward the horsemen, and they would ride hard toward him, leveling their lances …

He banged his head into the nose and mouth of the man behind him, sending considerable pain reverberating through his own head. An arm came around his neck and he set his teeth in it. Bryce was in front of him, with the gag, and Per kicked at him, catching him on the hip with the heel of his boot. Bryce staggered and sat down with a grunt of pain. Per was using his heels on the bare feet and legs of those behind him.

Andrea hopped about at the edge of the struggle, feeling scared and useless. “Per! Don't! Oh, don't hurt him!” She looked over her shoulder and saw the horsemen picking their way closer, as if to get a better look. “They're coming!”

Per's feet were kicked from under him; he was pressed to the ground, held down; and the gag was forced into his mouth for all he could do. And then, when he was pulled to sit upright in the grass, he was so breathless from the fight that the gag stifled him—and there were several among the men surrounding him who wanted to punch him.

Bryce, crouching beside him, fended them off. “Nobody touches—get back! See them three on horses over there? Nobody touches him.” Bryce pulled most of the sock out of Per's mouth, to let him get his breath back “But if we didn't need you alive, you little—”

Andrea saw the horsemen riding away at a fast trot toward the ford. They disappeared into the land's folds. What a sight they had to report to Toorkild.

Per's breathing had eased, and Bryce stuffed the sock back into his mouth, then gave him a hefty slap to the face that made a dull thump and rocked his head sideways. A thin trail of blood ran out of Per's nose.

“Nobody touches him!” Windsor said.

“Officer's privilege.”

“Right!” Windsor said, and swung back his arm to take his turn. Bryce gave Windsor an irritable shove that sent him sprawling. He scrambled up, fists clenched, to find Bryce waiting for him.

Bryce said, “Yeah? Want to try a shot at somebody who hasn't got their hands tied behind their back?”

“You'll answer for this when we get back,” Windsor said.

Bryce grinned, “
If
we get back.” He tied the shoelace around Per's head and shoved him, stumbling, in front of him.

Per made a convulsive, repeated, sidelong movement of the head, chewing at the gag, retching and gulping for air. Andrea, wanting to put her fingers, in her ears so she didn't have to hear the distressing sound, thought: Mistake. Big, big mistake.

The sight of Per, bedraggled, bound, dragged along, half choking on a gag, his nose bleeding and his face marked with bruises, was not going to put Toorkild, Gobby or any of the Sterkarms in a happy, reasonable frame of mind.

They had no choice but to go on toward the ford, tramping over the thick, wet grass that gave and bounced beneath their feet, making them stumble at almost every step. Topping a rise, they saw the ground slope down to the river, and they saw the Sterkarms.

The horsemen sat their strong, shaggy little horses with a horribly relaxed air of business as usual, the points of their lances bristling above their heads. Here and there the greased, blackened iron of helmet and lance head dully caught the light. Behind the horsemen was a small crowd on foot. The whole tower had turned out against them.

The Sterkarms were drawn up well back from the ford, leaving the way to it clear for them. But none of them—except, perhaps, Per—were keen to try making it to the water. Andrea knew how fast those thickset little horses could cover ground, and how practiced the riders were with the lances. She wondered how she could be so, so scared and still be standing up and breathing and thinking.

Bryce held Per in front of him by one arm and his scruff. Per was trying to push the gag out of his mouth with his tongue, and retching, and twisting his head from side to side. Through a dazzle of tears he could see the horsemen as a wavering dark block. He knew that his father would be there, at the front, and so would Gobby, and his cousins, all watching him. It made him sweat with shame that they should see him like this, helpless and needing rescue. For his father's sake, he should show some fight.

He ducked his head, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, trying to dislodge the cord that held the gag in place. If he could shout …

Bryce took a handful of his hair and pulled his head up and back. With his throat pulled taut, Per's retching became even more choked and desperate. “Oh, please—” Andrea said.

Bryce shook Per's head. “Don't start! Tell him he gives me grief, I'll knock him cold.” Bryce hoped the threat would be enough. He could do it; he could drop Per like a marionette whose strings had been cut, but with the Sterkarms watching, it was probably not a good idea.

Windsor said, “E-e-er …” like someone politely trying to interrupt.

The horsemen had started moving. Five or six of them were walking their mounts forward from the line and along the riverbank toward them. They came slowly, as if they were nothing more than idly curious, but each rider rested the butt of an eight-foot lance on the toe of one boot. Per strained toward them.

Bryce heaved him the other way. “Right! Go. Go!”

Some of the men realized what he meant, and scattered down the bank for the ford. Some, exhausted and battered, stood gawping at the advancing horsemen. Andrea ran, her boots flapping on her feet, her blisters painful. She was terrified that she was too fat to run and would be left behind and run down by the horses, but she splashed into the cold, shallow water together with three of the men, and one of them caught her hand to steady her against the fast current and pulled her over the river stones toward the opposite bank.

Bryce was trying to take Per with him to the water's edge, but Per dug his heels into the turf. He made himself heavy and sagged toward the ground, watching the horsemen pace nearer. Windsor came back up the bank and helped to heave Per upright.

Bryce spun Per around toward him, stooped and dug his shoulder into Per's midriff, put an arm between Per's legs and—to Windsor's surprise and Per's astonishment—hoisted him off his feet and made for the river.

Per pivoted precariously on Bryce's shoulder. The driving of the shoulder into his belly had knocked the breath out of him, and every step Bryce took jolted him again. The gag blocked his mouth as he sucked for air, and the ground whirled by upside down. He was going to either choke or be dropped on his head to break his neck.

The horses came on faster, the sound of their hooves louder as they struck the turf.

Bryce struggled on with the widest stride he could manage. Per's weight was shortening his spine. Windsor was ahead of him. Andrea and three men were clambering out on the farther bank. Bryce couldn't look around for the others. His own feet splashed into the water.

Every step after that was hampered not only by Per's weight rocking on his shoulder but by the water rushing around his legs. At the middle, the water rose over his knees and the current snatched at his feet. He tottered, clutching at Per's legs, but the water lifted one foot off the stones and he and Per both went down, thrashing and rolling in the water.

Bryce glimpsed horses' legs at the water's edge and through ears bubbling with water heard shouting. He didn't let himself pay much attention but grabbed Per under the arms and dragged him—Windsor was helping, good, they might make it—to the other bank, where more men came to help drag the prisoner up the slope. Not that the kid was putting up much fight, what between the gag and the ducking. He was choking, his eyes rolling back in his head, showing white. Bryce pulled the gag out of his mouth, bent him forward over his arm and thumped his back. When Per began to cough and wheeze and gasp, Bryce was able to look elsewhere.

The people around him were quiet and still. There was little noise coming from across the river, though there had been some shouting while Bryce had been busy trying to revive Per. Now he saw that not all the members of their party had crossed the ford.

A body floated in the water, and clouds of blood uncoiled from it. He could see the face as the head bobbed—the man who'd been bitten by the dog.

Half beached on the stones of the ford lay another man. As Bryce watched, a long spear jabbed down into him, and another came from the other side. Horses wheeled away, and another horse came in, another lance drove down. Blood ran over the stones and into the water.

It was horrible to watch, because there was nothing they could do. Some, like Andrea, couldn't watch and turned away or hid their faces, and then felt guilty. Everyone in the 21st party knew they were just as deserving or undeserving of dying under those spears. They'd started running a little sooner, or had run faster—those were the only reasons for their being spared. They all knew that they should be doing something to help, but that if they did, they'd be killed themselves.

The horsemen, on their dark, wheeling horses, looked across at them, and saluted them with bloodied lances, but didn't ride into the water.

Bryce put his hands under Per's elbows and heaved him to his feet. Per was shaky and breathless, but alive, and it was important that his friends see he was alive.

Per watched the lancing with professional interest and looked around at the men near him. An hour earlier that look would have earned him a kick, a cuff, an elbow in the ribs or belly, despite Bryce's order. Now no one would even meet his eyes, and no one made any move to raise hand or foot against him. He was suddenly their talisman. While they were close to him, they were safe. The stragglers, on the other side of the river, had died because they'd been too far away from Per.