The Crow by Alison Croggon Read Free Book Online Page A

he keeps his house manners," he said dryly. "He does not eat as much as you, for all his greed, so perhaps we can afford him."
    Ire gulped down his pilfered food and, knowing they were speaking of him, cocked his head.
    You be good, said Hem sternly in the Speech. Yes?
    I good, said Ire, turning toward Hem and knocking over Saliman's goblet, for the second time that night, with his tail.
    Saliman rolled his eyes upward, and started mopping the table with a cloth. Hem scrambled up to help him, radiant with an awkward joy he was unable to conceal. For the first time since his arrival in Turbansk, he didn't feel unwanted and in the way.
    It was going to be all right, he thought. It really was going to be all right.

 

     
    III
     
    T HE S HADOW O F W AR
     

     
    Survivors from the siege of Baladh and the conquest of the Nazar Plains began to straggle into Turbansk over the next two weeks. First came a fleet of craft fleeing across the Lamarsan Sea, a motley collection ranging from tiny coracles of hide to the long sailing dromonds, bearing as many as could be crammed inside them. A day or so later the remains of the mounted forces sent by Turbansk to reinforce the Baladh defense rode through the City Gate; they had been routed, and little more than half of their original strength returned home.
    Next came those who had been able to escape overland in the chaos of the battle. The first wave came on horseback, wild-eyed and gaunt, carrying many wounded with them; then families perched on wains drawn by exhausted horses and oxen, with thin, wide-eyed children who did not speak, and yet more hurt and dying; and lastly those on foot, filthy with the dust of the road, carrying children and others who could not walk because of hurt or age in makeshift sedans, or even on their backs.
    By the time the first survivors arrived, the evacuation of Turbansk was all but complete. Those students at the School younger than seventeen were among the first to leave for Amdridh, many with loud protests; among the loudest were Chyafa's, who resented it mightily when he heard that Hem alone, among all the children his age, was to stay behind for the defense of the city. Hem enjoyed a sweet feeling of revenge when he saw Chyafa's gaze turned upon him with rancorous envy, but he found he did not feel the need, this time, to rise to his sneers. Hem merely smiled at his enemy and said nothing, and saw with satisfaction that it made him even more annoyed.
    For days there was a stream of wagons and carriages and horses on the western road, carrying supplies and precious goods – the rarest of the irreplaceable scripts from the Library, treasures from the Turbansk palaces, the chief riches of every household – and all those who were not needed to defend the city. There were many grievous farewells; families were divided, fearing they would never meet again – parents from children, husbands from wives, brothers from sisters; lovers and old friends were parted. Hem witnessed many such despairing partings in the streets of Turbansk, and counted himself the luckier for staying.
    And so Turbansk changed: there were few children playing in the streets, and then none, and the adults who made their ways through the city were solemn and preoccupied. Saliman's Bardhouse seemed empty, as only a few people remained there; he had been mentor mostly to younger students. Hem's chamber no longer echoed with the faint sounds of conversation and music and laughter, which usually filtered through from the many rooms. He was unsettled by the quiet; it brought home what was happening in the city and sparked a growing sense of foreboding.
    And as the stream of people pouring out of Turbansk toward the west dwindled and then ceased, others came in from the east and filled the empty houses, pausing briefly before they too – those who were not too ill or exhausted to move, or who were not staying to defend Turbansk – took the long road west. Now there were also people