The Wind Singer. William Nicholson

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      The Chief Examiner looked down and saw Mumpo, his nose dribbling, his face grimy, his moist stupid eyes gazing up at him, and he snatched his robe away in sudden fury.

      ‘Don’t you touch me, you poxy little brat!’ he hissed.

      Mumpo was used to being brushed off, or laughed at, but the pure hatred he heard in the Chief Examiner’s voice astounded him.

      ‘I only wanted – ’

      Maslo Inch did not wait to hear. He strode on down to the stage of the arena.

      His arrival caused panic among the officials and marshals.

      ‘We’ve ordered her down – we’re doing all we can – she must be drunk – have you heard her? – she won’t listen to us – ’

      ‘Be quiet,’ said the Chief Examiner. ‘Someone remove the filthy child back there, and wash him.’ He made a gesture over his shoulder towards Mumpo.

      One of the marshals hurried up the steps and took Mumpo by the wrist. Mumpo went slowly, looking back many times at Kestrel high in the wind singer. He didn’t complain, because he was used to being dragged here and there by people in authority. The marshal took him to the fountain by the statue of Creoth the First, and held his head under the stream of cold water. Mumpo screamed, and struggled violently.

      ‘You better watch out,’ the marshal said, cross at being splashed. ‘We don’t want your sort in Aramanth.’

      He released his hold, and washed his hands in the fountain bowl.

      ‘I don’t want to be in Aramanth,’ said Mumpo, shivering. ‘But I don’t know where else to go.’

      In the arena, Maslo Inch watched the efforts of the marshals clambering over the wind singer, trying to catch hold of the lighter and more agile child.

      ‘Come down,’ he ordered the marshals.

      ‘They’ll get her in the end, sir,’ said the captain of the marshals.

      ‘I said, come down.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      The marshals descended, panting and red in the face. Maslo Inch looked with his steady and contemptuous gaze at the assembled crowd.

      ‘Has nobody here got any work to do this afternoon?’

      ‘We couldn’t let her say those wicked things – ’

      ‘You are her audience. Go away, and she will become silent. Captain, clear the arena.’

      So the officials and the marshals trickled away, looking back over their shoulders as they went to see what the Chief Examiner would do next.

      Kestrel did not become silent. She made a kind of song out of all the bad words she knew, and sang it through the wind singer.

      ‘Pocksicker pocksicker pompaprune!

      Banga-banga-banga plop!

      Sagahog sagahog pompaprune!

      Udderbug pongo plop!’

      Maslo Inch gazed up at her for a few moments, as if to familiarise himself with her face. He said nothing more. The girl had mocked and insulted everything that Aramanth most respected. She would be punished, of course; but the case called for more than punishment. She must be broken. Maslo Inch was not a man to shrink from hard decisions. Young as she was, it must be done, and it must be done once and for all. He gave a single brisk nod of his head, and turned and strode calmly away.

4

      Practising for Maroon

      By the time Bowman returned with his father, the arena was empty and the wind singer was silent. The marshals guarding the perimeter refused to let them enter. Hanno Hath told them he was the wild child’s father, and had come to take her home. The marshals sent for their captain, and their captain sent for instructions to the College of Examiners. Back came a simple order.

      ‘Send her home. She’ll be dealt with later.’

      As father and son made their way down the arena steps, Bowman asked in a low voice,

      ‘What will they do to her?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Hanno.

      ‘They said we’d lose points from our family rating.’

      ‘Yes, I expect they’ll do that.’

      ‘She said pompaprune to the Emperor. She said the Emperor doesn’t exist.’

      ‘Did she now?’ said her father, smiling to himself.

      ‘Does the Emperor exist, pa?’

      ‘Who knows? I’ve never seen him, and I’ve never met anyone else who’s seen him. Perhaps he’s just one of those useful ideas.’

      ‘Will you be cross with Kess?’

      ‘No, of course not. But it would have been better if she hadn’t done it.’

      They reached the wind singer, and Hanno Hath called up to the top, where they could see Kestrel curled up among the leather scoops.

      ‘Kestrel! Come down now, darling.’

      Kestrel looked over the edge, and saw her father below.

      ‘Are you angry with me?’ she said in a small voice.

      ‘No,’ he replied gently. ‘I love you.’

      So Kestrel climbed down, and as she reached the ground her courage suddenly forsook her, and she started to tremble and cry. Hanno Hath took her in his arms, and sat down on the bottom step of the arena, and held her close. He hugged her, and let her sob out all her tears of anger and humiliation.

      ‘I know, I know,’ he said over and over again.

      Bowman sat beside them, waiting for his sister to calm down, and shivered, and wanted to cuddle close to his father too. He moved nearer, and leaned his head against a wool-rough arm. Pa can’t help us, he thought. He wants to, but he can’t. It was the first time he had ever thought this thought, clear and simple like that. He said it to Kestrel in his head.

      Pa can’t help us.

      Kestrel thought back, I know. But he does love us.

      Then they both felt it at the same time, how much they loved their father, and they both started kissing him at once, all over his ears and eyes and scratchy cheeks.

      ‘That’s better,’ he said. ‘That’s my bright birds.’

      They walked home quietly, the three of them arm in arm, and nobody troubled them. Ira Hath was waiting for them, with Pinpin in her arms, and they told her briefly what had happened.

      ‘Oh, I wish I’d heard you!’ СКАЧАТЬ