Nondula (The Waifs of Duldred Book 2) Read online

  ‘Your Density... it would help with your eyes, too. I’m sure it would. Your Density... there’s a.... if you’d just... I don’t mean to offend... there’s a reason.’

  ‘You have as long as it takes for my hand to cool to tell me what it is.’

  ‘Your Density, the Nonduls and the Felluns are agreed, we are what we eat. You eat animals so’s you can get their powers.’

  ‘And we are the strongest of all the races because of it.’

  ‘Well, have you ever seen Nondul bread? Straight from the field it is. It’s made from flower and grass, fruit, nut and seed. So they turn out to be clean and flowery and hardly different from the land. Whereas the Felluns eat flesh and organs. It takes a long time for the body to make it into its own. It has time to rot. It makes you deadened, makes your blood sluggish. You’re like a furnace with rancid, smoking oil for fuel.’

  ‘So that is your advice. Eat your greens and be like you, with petals where your brain should be.’ Bominata shook her head. ‘I do not like your answer.’ She pushed her face up close again. Oy could see the pores like pin holes in her nose. He tried not to breathe her breath. ‘I hate your answer. Krute shall get a better one.’

  She sent for the guard who took him back to the tower where he waited for another terrorgating. This time Scriberd was forbidden to interfere. ‘I don’t know what you answered last time,’ he said, ‘but you’d better change it.’ He watched Krute who was already sizing pliers against Oy’s fingers. ‘Fast,’ he added.

  Krute had a hand like an oversized statue. Oy’s hand was lost in it. ‘I don’t know if my instruments is fine enough.’ He bent closer. ‘What’s this? Have you had this done before? Feels like an escalator scar on your thumb. That’s when we chop off a finger bit by bit, then the hand, then the arm. I ain’t never been higher than the elbow. This is an amateur job. What did they use?’

  ‘An axe,’ said Oy, ‘but it was an accident… I think.’

  ‘Right, let’s try the vice on you. Finger in the gap.’ Oy buried his hands between his knees. ‘Your hand: where is it?’

  ‘Let me help,’ said Scriberd. ‘Give me your hand, Oy.’ He spoke gently with a reassuring nod of the head. He took Oy’s hand, singled out his index finger, slipped something cold and heavy over it and placed it in the vice. ‘He’s ready,’ he said.

  Krute began to turn the screw till he felt the resistance. ‘Ain’t you feeling it boy?’

  ‘He is in extreme pain,’ said Scriberd, ‘as you would know if you could see his face.’

  Oy took the cue. He moaned and wailed.

  ‘I’m down to the bone,’ said Krute. ‘It’s getting messy with all this blood. Ask him again.’

  ‘Oy, what is your answer?’ said Scriberd.

  ‘She – should – eat-her-greens,’ he gasped. ‘It’s the truth, I swear.’

  ‘You have your answer,’ said Scriberd. ‘Release the vice. I am feeling quite faint.’

  ‘Wader-legged ninny.’ Krute bent his head close to the table. ‘There is a lot of blood for such a little hand.’ He trailed his finger in it. ‘Thin as you’d expect. Wonder what it tastes like?’

  ‘I wouldn’t try it,’ said Scriberd. ‘It might turn you into a Nondul. I’d wash it off quickly. Blood as thin as that could seep right through your skin.’

  Krute looked at his hand with alarm and hurried away.

  Scriberd retrieved his buckled ring from Oy’s hand, mopped up the red ink, and bandaged Oy’s finger which was whole and unharmed.

  Later, crashing sounds and shrieks of rage were heard from Bominata’s apartment. She sent for Rigaw. She shrieked louder. Rigaw was ejected. His coat was torn at the shoulder where the husbind medal should be. He had not gone ten bitter paces before the rumours started. Surely it was the end for Rigaw.

  The keeper hinted that it was also the end for Oy. Oy didn’t need to be told. His feeling was that each day was bad and likely to get badder, and then would come the baddest day of all and that would be an end to everything. He wrapped his arms around himself. I’m sorry, Linn, he thought. I made a mess of it. It looks like I ain’t coming back this time.

  17 Long Lil

  The uproar began at midday.

  The Chee had heard that the Nondul boy was being tortured. They speculated while they ate.

  ‘His hand has definitely been mashed,’ said Lahnee. ‘His teeth will be next if he don’t talk.’

  ‘My aunt Floree heard screams when she passed the Terror Gate last night,’ said Honolee, ‘I ’spect that was him.’

  Gritty’s food stuck in her throat. Her chest pained from shoulder to shoulder. She pushed her plate away.

  ‘What’s that noise?’ said Elfee, cocking her head.

  ‘Shouting,’ said Lahnee.

  ‘Fighting,’ said Jefee.

  ‘It sounds like a husbout,’ said Elfee. ‘Let’s go see. No running: walk orderly like we’re heading for diving practise.’

  The girls hurried out. Gritty tailed them out of the vittlerie, then she cut away by herself. Turning a corner she ran into Lil. Lil slapped the side of her head. When she saw that it was Gritty her anger receded but she did not look apologetic. Gritty sniffed, scrubbed at her nose with her sleeve and ran on. She couldn’t see for tears as she ran up the stairs to the dormerie, found her bunk and closed the curtain. She curled up, buried her face in the covers and soaked them. She did not hear the door.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ The voice was beautiful as a song. Gritty twisted around. The curtains opened. She saw a waist and an apron. The waist bent and Lil’s head came into view.

  Gritty sat up. ‘You can talk! And you got the most beautiful voice I ever heard.’

  ‘I don’t waste it on ears that don’t deserve it.’ Lil’s voice flattened. Still it was no ordinary voice. There were chords beneath it, like a faraway orchestra playing at the bottom of a well. ‘I say again, what’s the matter?’

  ‘I can’t...’ Gritty shook her head.

  ‘Who am I going to tell?’ said Lil. ‘I’m dumb. Crying about the Nondul boy y’are.’

  Gritty nodded. She felt the tears rising.

  ‘Hush,’ said Lil. It was an instruction not a comfort.

  Gritty hushed. She searched Lil’s face and made a decision. ‘I trust you.’

  ‘I should think so,’ said Lil in a milder tone. ‘Now come out here and finish what you have to say. I can’t stand bent for long.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Gritty scrambled out of her bunk and stood before Lil. ‘The Nondul boy is my dear friend. S’why I came here, to get him out. I ain’t no Chee, Lil.’

  ‘I knew that.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘You’re tuned to the true. The Chee abuse their tongues. They are the world’s worst word wasters. I close my ears for pain,’ Lil tilted her face and pointed to her earlids. Gritty marvelled at the fleshy flaps which drew up and down like blinds. ‘I hear more in a voice than words,’ said Lil. ‘I know one true note among a thousand false.’

  ‘Lil, is it true they’re torturing my friend?’

  ‘Terrorgating, not torturing. Not while Scriberd is there. He is a decent man. Your friend is back in the pits now, waiting till Her Density decides what’s to be done with him.’

  ‘Whatever it is it won’t be good will it? I’ve got to stop it, Lil. Will you help me?’

  In reply Lil showed the full depth of her midnight blue eyes. There was no knowing what a woman like that would do.

  They door latch rattled. Gritty and Lil stepped away from each other.Jefee ran in. ‘Grittee, what are you doing?You’re missing it all. Come on!’ She grabbed Gritty’s hand. ‘It’s all happening down at the Bungate.’

  Gritty allowed herself to be pulled along. In the square around the sangaries an almighty brawl was in full swing. The Chee hid behind pillars and gawped from the levels above. Jefee and Gritty made for the balconies.

  ‘Ow, I felt that,’ said Lahnee, as a club crashed into a man’s skull.

>   ‘He didn’t,’ said Honolee.

  The man wrestled his attacker and dumped him into the eel channel. Escaped eels moved like caterpillars through spilled ale. Two women grappled each other. They ground their thumbs into each other’s eyes. A man punched one of them. She broke off and charged him, slamming him into the wall. He retreated skidding on eels, beer and blood.

  ‘You missed the best bit,’ said Jefee. ‘Ijaw and Rigaw were going at it with clubs.

  There’s Rigaw in the Bear’s Head, see. Ijaw’s somewhere in that huddle. His jaw’s not in the middle of his face any more. His family are fixing him up. Oh look, Rigaw’s getting ready to go in again.’

  A bell sounded three times. The reverberations went on and on. The fighting stopped. The Felluns wiped blood from their mouths and straightened their clothes. A dozen guards marched in.

  ‘The Fellona has chosen,’ announced one. ‘The new husbind will be Ijaw Sizor.’

  Rigaw bellowed and split an oak table with his fist.

  The girls didn’t dare to be late for class. It was supper before they could talk about the fighting.

  ‘It’s all because of the Nondul boy,’ said Myonee. ‘Rigaw gifted him to the Bom as a special sort of healer. But all the kid did was insult her. So Rigaw got the boot. You wouldn’t think a scrap like that could cause so much trouble, would you?’

  ‘What will they do to him?’ said Jefee.

  ‘Chop him in bits and feed him to the bears,’ said Myonee.

  The girls vied to come up with more sickening punishments. Gritty stared at a spot on the floor and wished she had earlids to shut them out.

  Jefee tried to reassure her: ‘Rigaw’s aiming to stop the husbinding. Ijaw’s trying to rush it all through. With any luck they’ll forget about your friend while they’re fighting each other.’

  Gritty wanted to believe it. If only she had someone sensible to talk to. She did her best to catch Lil’s eye, but Lil’s eye would not be caught. Gritty began to think she had imagined Lil’s sympathy.

  Like all the girls, Myonee and Honolee hated working with Lil in the launderie. It was awful having to wash the brawla vests, worn for months, stiff with dirt and sweat and smelling of meat on the turn. Even worse were the napkins with bits of gristle and bone splinters in the folds. Lil hardly lifted a finger herself She stood aside watching their disgust; lofty, vengeful and dumb.

  ‘We’ll take your turn, Myonee, won’t we Jefee?’ said Gritty.

  ‘Think again,’ said Jefee.

  ‘We want paying of course,’ said Gritty. ‘I’ll do it for your blue beads, Honolee. What would you like, Jefee?’

  Jefee shook her head. ‘No. I ain’t doing it.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Jefee,’ said Myonee. ‘My hairpiece.’

  ‘No,’ said Jefee.

  ‘Bead or feather?’ said Gritty.

  ‘Bead,’ said Myonee

  ‘Feather,’ said Gritty.

  ‘Done,’ said Myonee.

  ‘I never said I would,’ protested Jefee.

  Gritty pulled her away.

  There were three rooms in the launderie: steep and pound, rinse and roll, finish and fold. The clothes were steeped in blue carnate, pounded, fed through stone rollers and sent down a chute for airing. The girls worked alongside the launderie serfs. When Lil tired of watching them she worked alone in finishing. She closed her ears and combed through the fleeces, working slowly and dreamily. Over and over she drew the comb down through the wool. She used finer and finer combs till every fibre was separated, and the fleece was fluffed and spotless as a cloud lamb in a sky meadow.

  Lil sent Gritty and Jefee to rinse and roll. It was one of the better jobs. First they fed the wet woollens through rollers. Like everything else in Fellund the rollers were massive. It took two of them to turn the handles. The woollens went in fat and came out flat. When the pile was big enough they baled the woollens and sent them down the chute to airing. A knocking at the bottom of the chute meant there was something to come back up.

  Gritty took the fresh fleeces through to finishing. Lil carried on drawing the comb towards her through the curls. Gritty put the fleeces down and went to stand beside her. ‘I need your help, Lil,’ she said.

  Lil turned and opened her earlids. ‘Say again.’

  ‘I need your help. I got to talk fast. You’ll know Oy’s lined up for some nasty punishment. It’s more than rumour. I got to get him out. It means going to the pits at night but I’ll never find him in all that maze not unless he can shine a light for me to see. Then I’ll get him out and...’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘We’ll hide out in the fort until there’s a chance to get away.’

  ‘Foolish plan. Too many walls, gates and guards. Then there’s the dogs and the watch cockerels.’

  ‘Well, let me worry about that. If you could just get a note to him and a lamp and tinder.’

  ‘And why would I..?’ Lil paused and looked behind her.

  Jefee stood there open-mouthed. Lil lunged at her. Jefee was on the far side of the room, but it was just three strides for Lil. Lil swatted Jefee with a towel. Jefee fended off the blows, half laughing. ‘I heard you, you funny old stick. All this time pretending you couldn’t talk.’

  ‘You-had-bett-er-keep-your-mouth-shut,’ Lil’s voice was frighteningly harsh as she beat at Jefee between words.

  ‘Leave me – leave me alone. No wonder you don’t say nothing with a horrible voice like that.’

  ‘Shut up, Jefee!’ Gritty put herself between them. Lil straightened up and put her hands on her hips. ‘You’ve ruined it,’ said Gritty. ‘Lil’s my friend.’

  ‘I’m no one’s friend here,’ said Lil.

  ‘See, she’s evil.’ Jefee smoothed her hair. ‘Look at her, mouth crimped like a pie.’

  ‘Tell anyone about me and I’ll put you through the rollers,’ said Lil.

  ‘Don’t worry, she won’t tell anyone. I’ll see to it,’ said Gritty.

  ‘I ain’t afraid of her, why shouldn’t I tell?’ said Jefee as Gritty pushed her through the door.

  ‘Be quiet,’ Gritty snapped. ‘She’s got a side to her you don’t know about. She’s the only person in here I trust.’

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘I want to, but sometimes your mouth runs away; you know it does. Lil’s close and deep and canny, but she ain’t hard all of the time.’

  ‘I don’t believe it. I don’t like her and she don’t like me; in fact she don’t like anyone. I’ve never known a woman as cussed.’

  ‘Jefee, we’re friends ain’t we? Don’t let me down now. Oy’s like a brother to me. I can’t let the Felluns harm him. Lil’s the only hope I’ve got. So don’t say anything, please. You can have the blue beads.’

  ‘You earned ’em. I’ll keep quiet – again, but not for her sake. I’ll end up dull as a northerner I swear.’

  Three nights later as the girls prepared for bed the talking reached its usual crescendo. It was as though the girls’ voices were climbing stairs, each one trying to get above another. Rigaw was a definite husbeen. Ijaw had won.

  Jefee pitched in with the others but she was outdone by louder voices and better stories. No one was listening to her so she stood pulling faces at Lil. Gritty told her to stop. ‘She started it,’ said Jefee. ‘She’s looking threats at me.’

  Gritty mimed her own message to Lil: ‘She doesn’t mean it. Can we talk?’

  Lil shook her head.

  ‘Please,’ Gritty mimed.

  Elfee had seen them. Ever ready to bait Lil, she walked over and began to pull faces herself. Lil turned her back. She made shrouded shapes behind her cupboard door as she deftly undressed inside a bag. Elfee nudged Jefee. ‘When I say ‘go’ shoot that way and we’ll see what she wears for bed.’ Lil removed the bag. The girls dashed over to the wall. Lil wore a body sock and high hat. She looked like a flattened tube. Elfee called to the others. ‘Come and see Lil’s sleepsuit. Quick, before she shuts herself in.’

  Half
of Lil’s face showed around the door. One eye watched Elfee.

  Elfee was laughing. ‘I just got a look inside her cupboard. She’s padded it out with rags to make it a real tight squeeze.’

  ‘How does she breathe in there?’ said Marnee.

  ‘Dreshes don’t breathe in and out, they breathe up and down,’ said Elfee. ‘See how she watches me, the creepy slat-bodied thing.’

  Gritty tried to turn the conversation. She raised her voice. ‘How do they celebrate the husbinding?’

  ‘We’re doing the warm-up,’ said Myonee.

  ‘What’s the main event?’ said Marnee.

  Gritty felt the answer crawl over the back of her neck.

  ‘The Nondul kid,’ said Myonee. ‘They’re throwing him off the Akwon.’

  ‘There’s two taking a dive now, the boy and the woman,’ said Lahnee.

  ‘Can’t wait,’ Elfee rubbed her hands.

  ‘Elfee!’ Lahnee chided.

  ‘Oh don’t act all nicey-nicey. It’s fun to watch.’ Elfee lifted her arms in a dramatic, falling gesture. ‘Aaaaaah!’

  Gritty’s chin sunk low on her chest. Her eyes were dangerous.

  ‘I want to be right at the front so I can see their faces when they fall,’ said Elfee.

  There was a smart crack. Elfee’s hand went to her cheek. Her mouth hung open. There was a rare silence.

  Ferralee was standing in the doorway. She looked at Gritty and the mark on Elfee’s cheek. ‘Elfee, Grittee and Myonee,’ she said, ‘one of you will dance the lead at the husbinding feast. See me at sun-up. Lights.’

  Elfee tossed her hair and doused the lamp.

  Every girl experienced some moments of agony. Two things had just happened, both of which they longed to talk about, and they had to wait all night before they could. They were like bottles of ale shaken hard and left to settle when all they wanted to do was pop.

  In the morning everyone popped together, except for Gritty. There was a definite space around her. She didn’t have to hear her name to know that she was talked about. Elfee moved inside a cloud of girls as she got dressed and straightened her bed. All of them looked over at Gritty constantly. Elfee strapped on her shoes and took Myonee’s arm. Gritty was left to walk by herself.