Free The City by Stella Gemmell Page B

the torchlight, squinting. But his ageing eyes could make nothing of it. He looked enquiringly at the girl, who held out her hand. He gave it to her and she looked at it. Then she took the other piece of metal and held them together.
    She looked up at Bartellus, realization in her gaze. She put the two close to the ground and trotted them along. He took them from herand peered again. Yes, they were animals, a dog and horse, perhaps. Or a donkey. Each cunningly crafted in gold.
    ‘Is this a donkey?’ he asked.
    Her lips curved a little and he recognized the hint of a smile.
    ‘Or a horse?’ She nodded. She raised her hands over her head, and brought them down gracefully to her shoulders. Then she lowered her head and batted her eyelashes at him, a gesture so arch and comical that he laughed.
    A veil. A woman’s veil, weighted at the edges with gold animals. Most of the little weights had been washed away, leaving only the dog and the horse. Bartellus smiled at the child and handed the veil back to her. For a while she sat contentedly stroking the tiny beasts, following their tiny backs and tails with a small finger.
    Bartellus wondered why the tattooed corpse was wearing a woman’s veil round his neck. A love token perhaps or, twisted, a murderer’s noose? He thought again of the brand on the man’s arm. He picked up a piece of stick and traced the S in the dust.
    ‘Do you know what this is?’ he asked the child. She looked at it, frowning a little, then shook her head.
    ‘Neither do I,’ he told her. ‘But it looks familiar. It was … drawn on the arm of the dead man we found.’
    Her heart-shaped face clouded over again, and he cursed himself. What was the point of reminding her of her brother? Of a time when her brother still lived.
    Bartellus sighed. ‘Time to be moving,’ he said. She tied the veil neatly round her neck, patting the little animals. Then she jumped up, taking his hand.
    It took them nearly half a day to get back to the Hall of Blue Light, with its familiar ledges and meeting maelstrom of waters. The storm had wrought many changes. They saw few people they knew there, and there were many newcomers. Bartellus was relieved to find Old Hal still in residence. The skinny old man, guarded by his four strapping sons, was the main conduit for food and fresh water in the upper Halls. Bartellus approached him, digging in his pouch again. He found the gold coin Anny-Mae had dug up in the shoals. He showed it to one of Old Hal’s sons, who stood aside and let him through to the father’s ledge.
    The old man squatted on the floor surrounded by his hoard of food bags, pots of water and beer, and baskets of bread and roots. Helooked up and cackled with enjoyment. ‘Bartellus, we thought you dead! Many of us dead these last days.’ He shook his head in sorrow, whether for lost lives or lost profits Bartellus could not guess.
    ‘I have brought the girl back.’ Bartellus realized for the first time that he didn’t know her name. ‘Elija’s sister.’
    ‘Little Emly?’ said Old Hal. ‘And Lije?’
    Bartellus shook his head.
    Old Hal frowned and gestured to one of his sons, who gave Bartellus two fresh loaves of bread, some dried meat, and a large jug of water. Bartellus handed him the gold coin. Old Hal rummaged in a wooden box and gave him five silver imperials in return. Bartellus looked at them. A gold imperial equalled five silvers. He was wondering if the old trader had made a mistake, and whether to mention it, when the man told him, ‘A gold is worth more than five silvers down here in the Halls.’ He shrugged. ‘That’s the way it is.’
    Bartellus put the coins away, grabbed the food and made his way back to Emly.
    It was many days before the old soldier found it necessary to join another hunting party. He and Em had fed well, and rested, and he still had four silvers left after he had bought them both clean clothes and himself a curved dagger. The silvers would last them a long time,