Free The Crow by Alison Croggon Page A

jewel of the Suderain, to the carrionfowl of the Dark. And perhaps we can deplete the army, so those behind us will have less work to do." He smiled grimly.
    Hem studied the stallholder, wondering at his bravery. "What is your name?" he asked at last.
    "Boran," said the stallholder. "And yours?"
    "Hem."
    "A thousand blessings on your cup, Hem," said Boran, giving him the traditional benediction before drinking.
    "And on yours, Boran," said Hem. He said it in Suderain, as he had at least mastered that phrase, finished the coffee, and handed the cup back to Boran. Then, thanking him, he continued his moody wandering, kicking a stone before his foot so it rattled on the cobbles.

 

     
    IV
     
    Z ELIKA
     

     
    Hem wasn't taking much notice of his surroundings, so when someone shot out of one of the side alleys and crashed into him he was taken completely by surprise. Ire flapped into the air, cawing in protest, and Hem was sent sprawling onto the ground. His first feeling was rage, and he grabbed blindly for his assailant, catching part of a cloak and holding it fast, even when a hard little fist hit him in the eye. He grabbed one arm and then another, and, panting with effort, wrestled his attacker to the ground.
    He was sitting astride his foe, about to take revenge for what he thought would probably be a black eye, when he realized he was fighting a girl. She was glaring at him murderously, still struggling and spitting out imprecations. Hem's command of the Suderain language had improved considerably in his time in the Healing Houses, although it was still uncertain. Nevertheless, he understood enough to know that he was being called some very unflattering names.
    He flushed, and would have responded in kind if he had not simultaneously noticed the ragged state of the girl's clothes and that she had been hurt; quite recently her lip had been split, and there was a nasty infected cut underneath her right eye. He swallowed his retort.
    "I'm very sorry," he said, in careful Suderain. "I did not see you..."
    The girl paused in her struggle to free herself and stared at him balefully.
    "You should be more careful," Hem said.
    "Let me go," said the girl.
    Hem studied her curiously. She had the light-brown skin of those who came from the eastern parts of the Suderain, and spoke with the accent of Baladh. She must have arrived late in Turbansk, and somehow missed the last wagons that had carried the children to Car Amdridh. He thought she must be about his own age. She had tangled black hair, which spilled in loose curls around her face, and delicate features, which were somewhat mitigated by the anger of her expression. She was filthy; her tattered cloak was so stained it was almost impossible to tell its original color, and she carried a battered leather bag that clearly held all her few possessions.
    "Please promise not to run away," Hem said. "I'm sorry, it was – " He didn't know the Suderain word for accident. "I won't hurt you..."
    The girl paused, and nodded. Hem, normally so distrustful of strangers, did not doubt for a moment that she would keep her word. He carefully got off her, and she sat up, brushing herself down. Ire returned to Hem's shoulder and leaned forward, his head cocked, examining the girl with unalloyed curiosity. She would not look at Hem, and sat next to him with an air of affronted dignity. Hem groped around in his mind for something to say, cursing his lack of Suderain.
    He suddenly remembered the honey cake that Boran had given him, and he pulled it out of his pocket and offered it to her. It was a little crushed, but still mainly whole. The girl stared at him doubtfully, and then snatched the cake from his hand and devoured it in two bites. She was clearly starving.
    "What are you doing here?" asked Hem, watching as she wiped her mouth. "You should be on your way to Car Amdridh."
    "I hid," said the girl. She seemed a little mollified after his offering. "I want to fight the Black Ones." She drew a