King of Ashes. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ hand away and said, ‘I’m not going to start anything …’ He glanced back at Raj and saw that the boy was still staring at the three of them.

      ‘What is it between you two, anyway?’ Hava asked.

      Hatu remained silent as they reached the table where food had been laid out on wooden plates. When they had settled into an unoccupied corner of the room, he said, ‘I don’t know, it started …’

      ‘Years ago,’ supplied Donte. ‘Do you even remember what that first fight was about?’

      ‘He called me a name,’ said Hatu, ‘I think …’

      Hava’s brow furrowed. ‘You think?’

      ‘It was before you came to school,’ said Donte. He took a bite from his platter. The food was plain, and as usual cold, but they ate gratefully, for over the years they had trained for periods of privation, and going without food was a normal part of their lives, even if only for short periods of time in training.

      It was quiet in the warehouse. Students rarely spoke while eating. From an early age, they had been taught to focus on things most people took for granted, like food, water, and rest, to conserve and build their strength. These drills and lessons had been hard ones: two days without food was not life-threatening, but to a child it felt like an eternity of starvation. Many mornings had broken on severe stomach aches as the youngsters learned which foods were safe to eat and when. Water was always close at hand, for while going without food for days was possible, severe dehydration would kill sooner, and incapacitate even faster. Rest was precious, for the rigours of life under their masters would often require long periods of sleepless exertion.

      Hatu looked at the small square of wood that served as his plate and ate his food with his fingers: cold lumps of sticky rice in a congealed broth, a slice of a roll, and a small portion of bitter greens. He would finish every bite.

      After a moment of silence, Hava asked, ‘Before I came? How old were you when it happened?’

      ‘Seven, or eight,’ said Hatu quietly.

      Donte shrugged. ‘I’ve lost count of the fights they’ve had.’

      ‘Seven,’ said Hatu, keeping his voice low, though both his friends could sense his rising tension. He glanced at Donte. ‘Eight?’

      ‘More,’ said Donte. ‘I lost count at about eight.’

      Hava shook her head in disbelief. ‘Ten, eleven? So at least once a year you and Raj just decide to fight?’

      ‘Sometimes you just don’t like someone,’ said Donte. ‘For no reason. It takes most people a while to dislike Hatu, but Raj hated him from the first moment they met.’

      ‘I don’t care what his reason is, or even if he has one,’ said Hatu, clearly on edge. ‘He’s a piece of shit to everyone. I just fight back.’

      ‘True,’ said Donte, turning to Hava. ‘You and I are the only two people on Garn who truly like Hatu, but nobody likes Raj. He just bullies people into pretending they like him.’

      ‘I know that,’ replied Hava. ‘I just wanted to know what started the whole thing.’

      ‘Can’t remember,’ replied Donte. He smiled, then purloined the greens from Hava’s plate, a theft she allowed without protest. She couldn’t abide the bitter leaves and would always eat them last, and only then if one of the gang captains or a master was watching. They made her sick but that didn’t matter to those supervising the students’ meal.

      Donte, on the other hand, would eat almost anything. He had won many bets for eating all manner of disgusting things, including some large insects that were still alive.

      Hatu didn’t care much for food one way or another. He enjoyed some tastes, but he didn’t seek them out to satisfy a craving. As far as he knew, food was necessary for life and beyond that he took little pleasure in it.

      While he ate in silence, Hatu’s thoughts turned inwards, and his frustration began to grow. He found Donte’s antics amusing at times, especially in Hava’s company, but on other occasions the big lad’s disregard for authority caused problems.

      Raj’s presence did not help calm the situation. Hatu could feel the boy’s gaze upon him, and it took all of his self-control not to turn and meet it. He felt his anger building as he tried to push his mind away from their previous encounters, and from his annoyance that Donte had pulled him away from this fight; more annoyed that Donte was right to do so rather than anything else.

      If Hatu dwelled on this intervention, he could easily start to resent his friend, and knowing this unsettled him, for among the male students, Donte was his closest friend and one of the few for whom he’d risk his life. Hatu hadn’t fully accepted the lesson that he might one day have to choose to complete a mission over saving a friend. When asked to envision it, he had little difficulty forsaking most of the other students but he could never reach the place in his imagination that permitted abandoning Hava and Donte to a lonely death. But there were moments where his friend’s antics got on Hatu’s nerves so much that he felt like killing Donte himself. He knew he was letting his deep seething anger rise up and forced himself to practise a calming exercise silently while he ate.

      He finished his food and put down his plate. The orders had been simple: silence until everyone had finished eating and then they were to wait for instructions.

      He looked around the room, avoiding Raj, and saw only a few faces he recognised in the scattering of strangers. Hava was now leaning against the back wall with her eyes closed. Hatu admired her profile and felt a stirring. He pushed aside the sudden emotion and felt an unexpected rush of foolishness and then anger at himself. He saw Donte also scanning the room for someone to cajole, bully, or bribe for extra food, so he was oblivious to what Hatu thought must have been an obvious display of his reaction to Hava. Donte could usually read Hatu’s moods easily.

      Hatu settled back against a crate, finding scant comfort. He tried to calm his mind and failed; instead his impatience grew. The students were often kept waiting; Hatu suspected it was designed to stem their restlessness. When they were little, students would often act up, unable to abide the silence. Hatu quickly realised that repeat perpetrators of such behaviour disappeared from the school.

      Thinking of the school made Hatu recall his earliest memory. It was a painful one, a sudden startling sting that quickly faded. It was a memory that had been repeated many times since the first birch had struck the back of his hand, a sharp memory of correction rather than punishment.

      He remembered his first experience vividly: he had reached for a carp, golden in the afternoon sun, swimming just below the surface of a pond, and had fallen into the pool when one of the matrons had been distracted.

      Perhaps the odd combination of sensations, the metallic burn of water in his nose, his sudden blurry vision, and his heavy coughing, was why he remembered that moment so vividly, but he’d only been a toddler and had cried until the sharp sting of the birch wand had shocked him into silence. He recalled every second: standing there dripping wet, shivering with the sudden cold, and struggling to understand what had happened.

      Hatu shifted slightly while those around him finished eating. As usual old emotions rose with the memory, a mixture of anger and fear. He could even feel an echo of that first flare of shock and it reverberated within him.

      The experience had marked Hatu: from that moment to this, he’d СКАЧАТЬ