outrageous, because my guard began chewing like a rabbit, pursed his lips, hollowed his cheeks, then cracked open his mouth and spat out a jet of disgusting black liquid. Some landed warm on my face, the rest on the tatters of my shirt so I felt it through the cotton.
Tobacco juice. I stood my ground, wiping the foul stuff away, although it clung to my fingers even when I smeared them on my shirt, my breeches, the stones at my feet. But this was outrageous too. So outrageous the guard spat a second time and then began to harangue me, spattering me with his saliva.
I withstood this tirade as well, but my heart froze inside me. I thought: when this is done he will murder me, because I have offended him so much.
But when his fury burned out he did not even reach for his knife. Instead, with a flash of his yellow teeth, which I suppose might have been a smile, he led us to the foot of the cliff, where he ordered us to wait for a moment.
Although Natty was standing behind me now I heard her distinctly. “Good-bye,” she said, as a drizzle of pebbles blew down from the carvings above, and under my breath I finished what she had begun. Good-bye to the
Nightingale
; good-bye to our friends; good-bye to our fathers; good-bye to England; good-bye to the lives we had known as children; good-bye to each other.
Then the guards growled again and I set my foot on the path. We began to climb.
CHAPTER 5
On the Clifftop
The cliff path was hardly a path; it was shallow steps hacked into the rock, and so steep I soon dropped onto all fours, telling Natty she must do the same. Our climb was therefore very slow and painful, and also very frightening. Stones cut my hands, my fingers, my knees, my feet. Lunatic eyes glared at me. Bulbous lips puffed at me. Gusts of wind buffeted and blustered—the last gasps of the storm. Once I slithered so far into empty space, only a tuft of grass kept me alive. And all the while our guards never lost their footing, but skimmed over the ground as though their moccasins were skates.
I had no breath for talking and no inclination, except at halfway when I muttered “Nearly there” to encourage Natty. The guard in front of me immediately whisked round and slapped my face; the sting of his hand stayed on my skin like a burn-mark.
“Silence,” he shouted—not that word of course, but his own ferocious yap.
After that, it would be too much to say I was thinking. I was too tired to think and too nervous. But I was not completely blank. I told myself that if cruelty was so natural to these men, we would only survive by convincing them we were broken, so they would lose their concentration and let us escape. Escape to what I had no idea; I thought freedom itself would be enough.
When I reached the end of the path I therefore made a pretense, humbly dragging myself over the last few yards, gazing wretchedly at the wounds in my hands, then flinging myself down with no more breath in my body.
The ploy succeeded after a fashion. When Natty collapsed beside me and seemed to be just as spent, our guards smiled at one another like smug farmers whose cattle have been driven safely to market.
In fact I was very relieved to lie quiet for a while, with the tangled smells of the earth filling my head, and the muggy breeze tousling my hair. I even let myself drift toward sleep for a while, or at least toward somewhere far distant, where I was not in danger.
But I had curiosity too; I wanted to know where we were, and a minute later hoisted upright again. Our clifftop, which was an arc enclosing the whole bay, was the only high ground for miles in any direction. A hundred yards to my left, and the same to my right, and the same facing inland, it sloped down to a wilderness where the course of our hurricane showed like the track of a colossal carriage. And either side of this track, where the country was still unscathed: gray sand with silvery meres and gullies. And beyond these: red-brown earth, and steam blowing
Tobacco juice. I stood my ground, wiping the foul stuff away, although it clung to my fingers even when I smeared them on my shirt, my breeches, the stones at my feet. But this was outrageous too. So outrageous the guard spat a second time and then began to harangue me, spattering me with his saliva.
I withstood this tirade as well, but my heart froze inside me. I thought: when this is done he will murder me, because I have offended him so much.
But when his fury burned out he did not even reach for his knife. Instead, with a flash of his yellow teeth, which I suppose might have been a smile, he led us to the foot of the cliff, where he ordered us to wait for a moment.
Although Natty was standing behind me now I heard her distinctly. “Good-bye,” she said, as a drizzle of pebbles blew down from the carvings above, and under my breath I finished what she had begun. Good-bye to the
Nightingale
; good-bye to our friends; good-bye to our fathers; good-bye to England; good-bye to the lives we had known as children; good-bye to each other.
Then the guards growled again and I set my foot on the path. We began to climb.
CHAPTER 5
On the Clifftop
The cliff path was hardly a path; it was shallow steps hacked into the rock, and so steep I soon dropped onto all fours, telling Natty she must do the same. Our climb was therefore very slow and painful, and also very frightening. Stones cut my hands, my fingers, my knees, my feet. Lunatic eyes glared at me. Bulbous lips puffed at me. Gusts of wind buffeted and blustered—the last gasps of the storm. Once I slithered so far into empty space, only a tuft of grass kept me alive. And all the while our guards never lost their footing, but skimmed over the ground as though their moccasins were skates.
I had no breath for talking and no inclination, except at halfway when I muttered “Nearly there” to encourage Natty. The guard in front of me immediately whisked round and slapped my face; the sting of his hand stayed on my skin like a burn-mark.
“Silence,” he shouted—not that word of course, but his own ferocious yap.
After that, it would be too much to say I was thinking. I was too tired to think and too nervous. But I was not completely blank. I told myself that if cruelty was so natural to these men, we would only survive by convincing them we were broken, so they would lose their concentration and let us escape. Escape to what I had no idea; I thought freedom itself would be enough.
When I reached the end of the path I therefore made a pretense, humbly dragging myself over the last few yards, gazing wretchedly at the wounds in my hands, then flinging myself down with no more breath in my body.
The ploy succeeded after a fashion. When Natty collapsed beside me and seemed to be just as spent, our guards smiled at one another like smug farmers whose cattle have been driven safely to market.
In fact I was very relieved to lie quiet for a while, with the tangled smells of the earth filling my head, and the muggy breeze tousling my hair. I even let myself drift toward sleep for a while, or at least toward somewhere far distant, where I was not in danger.
But I had curiosity too; I wanted to know where we were, and a minute later hoisted upright again. Our clifftop, which was an arc enclosing the whole bay, was the only high ground for miles in any direction. A hundred yards to my left, and the same to my right, and the same facing inland, it sloped down to a wilderness where the course of our hurricane showed like the track of a colossal carriage. And either side of this track, where the country was still unscathed: gray sand with silvery meres and gullies. And beyond these: red-brown earth, and steam blowing
Similar Books
Red Rose
Mary Balogh
Crying for Help
Casey Watson
Indulge
Megan Duncan
Prince of Legend
Jack Ludlow
Lucky Break
Liliana Rhodes
PrimevalPassion
Cyna Kade
A red tainted Silence
Carolyn Gray
Nighttime at Willow Bay
Kasey Moone
Fencing You In
Cheyenne McCray