City of Lies - Lian Tanner [77]
“Toadspit reckons I’m imagining things,” said Bonnie.
“I didn’t say that.” Toadspit grinned. “I said you were mad.”
“Well, I’m not. The two bows feel the same, Goldie. They really do.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” said Goldie slowly. “Frisia’s bow could have ended up in the museum somehow.”
“And Olga Ciavolga kept it safe and gave it to me!”
“Which makes Olga Ciavolga the mad one,” said Toadspit. Then he added quickly, “But don’t tell her I said so.”
Bonnie picked up the beautiful new bow. Her fingers caressed the leather grip. “Were we really there, in ancient Merne?”
“I don’t know,” said Goldie. “It felt as if we were.”
Over by the rail, the cat inspected a paw that had once been adorned with velvet and rat-skins. “Gggggown,” it murmured.
Bonnie sighed. “It was fun being the young margravine. And Goldie, you were a good Frisia. Much better than I would’ve been.”
She stroked the bow one last time, then held it out. “This is really yours.”
Toadspit cleared his throat. “This is yours too.” His hand lingered on the hilt of Frisia’s sword, as if he didn’t want to let it go.
“Yo-o-o-o-urs,” croaked Morg.
Goldie sat up. The silver rings on the bow winked at her. The sword lay still and waiting. Her fingers clenched. “Um—I’ve forgotten how to use them.”
She saw the beginnings of disbelief on Toadspit’s face and hurried on. “I lost the skill when the Big Lie stopped. I don’t know why. It just went. You may as well keep them.”
The cat gazed at her, its eyes dark and knowing.
“I haven’t forgotten,” said Bonnie.
Toadspit laughed. “We saw that.” Then his face grew serious again. “I haven’t forgotten either. It doesn’t seem fair.”
Goldie forced a smile. “I don’t mind. Really.”
She was glad when they snatched the weapons up and carried them away. She was glad too when the cat fell asleep on a coil of rope. She wished she could sleep, but she was wide awake now.
It wasn’t easy to fool Toadspit. She had only been able to do it because he wanted the sword so much. She hadn’t forgotten how to use it. She hadn’t forgotten a thing that had happened during the Big Lie. Her hands and mind and heart remembered every skillful movement of sword and bow.
Even now a part of her wanted to jump up and snatch the weapons away from her friends. To wrap her fingers around the hilt of the sword, and feel that glorious weight in her hand …
Frisia.
The Lie had ended, but the princess’s voice was still there inside her. And so was her love of war and fighting.
Goldie gritted her teeth. There were things she admired about the princess, but the love of war was not one of them. As far as Goldie could see, the main thing that happened in war was that ordinary people had their lives torn apart for no good reason.
But Frisia’s fate-telling had been meant for her as well, she knew that now. The fire was the Fugleman. The household that he threatened to destroy was Jewel. And she must not hold back.
The trouble was, the princess’s love of war wasn’t the only thing that she carried hidden inside her. The wolf-sark was there too, ready to blaze up as soon as she drew the sword. She had nearly killed Mouse because of it. Who might she kill if it happened again?
She shuddered. It was better to give her weapons away.
“Hey, Princess,” shouted Smudge, interrupting her thoughts. “Am I really the captain, like you said?”
He had been holding the tiller on a steady course for some time, and had apparently accepted what had happened. But Goldie knew they would have to watch him. Just as they would have to watch Pounce. She would not let herself be betrayed again.
“I’m not a princess,” she shouted.
“What are ya, then? Who are ya?”
Goldie drew in a long breath. She didn’t know what they would find when they reached Jewel, but if Guardian Hope had told the truth about the mercenaries, it seemed likely that there would be a war of one sort or another. And she and Toadspit and Bonnie would be caught up in it.
She would not glory