Читать книгу Godblind - Anna Stephens - Страница 17

Rillirin sat and watched. She was good at watching, and she was very good at sitting still. Being unobtrusive had kept her alive. It wasn’t as cold as Eagle Height, so she didn’t allow herself to shiver, to move, barely to blink. Instead she curled into the protective angle of the wall of Dom’s house and the woodpile, and she watched.

She watched the men do the chores alongside the women, and she watched the women work with weapons alongside the men. Mostly, though, she watched the short, spiky-haired spearwoman who’d come to visit Dom and sat by the small fire outside his door.

Her name was Dalli and she had a spear as long as she was tall, plus the leaf-shaped blade at one end. Rillirin watched her rub a fine layer of beeswax into the grain of the wood, and then rub most of it back off again. There was an expression of absolute concentration and contentment on her face as she worked, oblivious to Dom clanging the cooking pot or whistling through his teeth.

Rillirin had never touched a weapon, if you discounted the knives in the kitchens of Eagle Height. Her palms itched at the thought of picking up a spear and knowing how to use it. A prisoner in a Wolf village was much the same as a slave in a Mireces village, though, so she didn’t move.

Dalli gave the spear one more rub-down and stood up, hefting it in one hand and then the other. Then she spun it and it hummed through the air. She smiled, shifting her hands and whirling its length through a series of figures of eight, spinning it around herself, spinning herself with it, feet dancing through the snow.

‘Show off,’ Dom called from inside, breaking the spell, and Rillirin blinked and exhaled; she’d been holding her breath. I want to do that. I want to fight, to dance like that. To be strong.

Dalli laughed, leapt at the door and stabbed through it into the gloom. Rillirin clapped a hand over her mouth and lurched to her feet. The movement alerted Dalli, who dropped into a crouch and spun, spear suddenly pointed at Rillirin’s chest. Rillirin flattened herself against the woodpile, a branch digging hard into her kidney, and put both arms over her face.

‘Hush, girl, I’m not going to hurt you,’ Dalli said, and Rillirin chanced a look. Her heart was thudding high in her throat. Dalli had straightened and was cradling the spear in the crook of her arm, its butt resting on the top of her boot.

‘Maybe I’ll teach you one day,’ she said and Rillirin’s mouth formed an O of surprise. How does she know? ‘Every woman should be able to protect herself,’ Dalli added and Rillirin’s face twisted with shame. The woman was mocking her weakness. She lowered her arms and stared at the snow, feeling her face heat up.

Dalli pursed her lips and then stepped forward and proferred the spear. ‘I didn’t mean anything by that,’ she said quietly. ‘Here, do you want to hold it?’ she asked and from the corner of her eye Rillirin saw Dom appear in the doorway, knife in one hand.

It’s a trap. They’ll kill me if I take the spear. They can say I attacked them. But Rillirin looked at it, at the warm rich wood, the curves of the grain and the faint sheen of beeswax. She could just make out the hatchings carved into its middle for grip. It was beautiful.

Dalli ran her free hand through her short spiky hair. ‘Go on if you want,’ she said. ‘It’s up to you.’

Rillirin licked her lips, fingers twitching; then she shook her head and looked away, shoulders creeping up around her ears. I remember this game. Drink the wine, wench, you’ve earned it, then a punch in the face if I did. Punch in the face if I didn’t, sometimes.

Dalli tucked the spear back under her arm. ‘Another time maybe,’ she said easily, with a smile Rillirin didn’t – couldn’t – trust. ‘You just let me know and I’ll be pleased to teach you. We all would, whatever weapon you fancy.’

Rillirin didn’t reply. She slid down the wall on to the ground, arms around her knees. Still.