Travellers #1 Read Free Page B

catching, so people kept away. When I wanted to see my father, Rose said his body was lost in the weeds. I lost my temper and hit her so she cried, Rose, my sister whom I loved.
    “You lying shit!” I spat. She ran after me. People watched, but nobody interfered. Bad luck is catching.
    Around the camp-fire there were laments and praises for Hawk. I was old enough to hear the worry in the voices of some, the different tone of those who knew they would continue as they had always done. Leaders came and went; the Journey had to be made. Karly Campy sat silent. Rose led me to our tent half-asleep so I did not hear the arguments that followed the lamentations.
    I woke knowing the Journey had started. Rose’s eyes were gummed up, lashes stuck together. I tried to brush off the crusty stuff without disturbing her, but she was already awake. She put her arms around me and cried before I remembered.
    Our father’s mug and plate stayed in the basket. There was a gap by our fire. As if we were invisible, people did not speak. “They’ve decided,” Rose said, but I did not know what she meant. We ate, took down our tent, loaded our donkeys, and waited ready.
    Karly Campy stood in the middle of the encampment and gave the orders for the morning march. I wanted to go back, to look for my father. What if he had dragged himself out on the shingle and needed help? Fixing a strand of wool to her spindle, Old Hagar saw me turn. She shook her head and whispered hoarsely, “Travellers don’t look back.”
    Karly Campy must have signalled because Rose nodded and moved off behind the others. We had to make the most of the early hours before the sun became angry.
    During the next few days our animals disappeared amongst Karly Campy’s. Our tent was pitched beside Karly Campy’s. He stood in our father’s place and gave the orders. One night Rose cried and fought but was dragged into his tent by his older wives. I shouted and struggled. In the end Karly Campy himself came out. I bit him when he put his hand over my mouth, and he knocked me unconscious. I slept that night between Lik and and Bar, with the animals.
    Next morning, sore and hungry, I waited to be told what to do. Rose helped strike Karly Campy’s tent and load his donkeys. In the half-dark she dropped something near me, and hissed, “Keep behind, out of sight!” She ran to swing a bedroll on to a donkey’s back and caught the rope somebody threw across. The food she had dropped I stuffed inside my tunic. She turned away and would not look at me. I thought she was angry with me for losing my temper last night.
    Karly Campy split the Travellers to move in separate groups. In three days they were to join in an encampment, west of the numerous walls called Hammertun. I tried to follow Rose, but a mob of sheep came between us. Bar and Lik disappeared. People kept forcing me back. Dogs snarled. I was pushed to the rear, alone but for Old Hagar.
    That was where Karly Campy trotted back on a donkey and found me. Determined not to lose my temper, I stood and waited for his orders. He leaned down and punched me in the face. “Piss off, cripple!” he shouted. “Nobody wants you hanging round.”
    I grabbed for a stone, but he tore away my sling, knocked me to the ground with his staff. He rode ahead, passing Old Hagar without a word. Mor and Heka appeared andthrew stones, chasing me back the way we had come. I was being left behind. The same people my father had helped, saved in the crossings, they had agreed with Karly Campy that I must be left behind because of my leg.
    Mor and Heka were afraid they might get left behind themselves and soon gave up. I sat bleeding where their stones had cut. Where Karly Campy had struck my head, the bruise felt huge and hot, but I had to keep touching even though it hurt. Rose’s bread and meat had grass and dung stuck on it, but I brushed them off and ate, snivelling.
    I could not go back. Nothing lived in the Whykatto when only the sun raged,