Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [220]
Almost immediately, it seemed, the ground levelled off, there was a blaze of torches ahead, and he could hear some ironic cheering, and even some genuine shouts and applause. He felt stiff, and bruised, and cold, and shaken, and triumphant. That for you, Uncle bloody Nicholas and Fat Grandfather Jordan.
IT WAS COLD, too, at the finishing post, despite the people crowded there and the fire someone had started. Indeed, the company and the light were a mixed blessing, as it made the hill itself all the darker, and nothing could be heard through the noise. Standing behind the broad back of Nicholas, with Gelis at his side, Kathi wished she had either owned taller parents, or been born with a step-ladder. They had gathered here early, while the others were still climbing the hill. It would take time, once they reached the top, to get ready. She had no idea how long it would take to come down. It would depend on the manner of coming, she supposed.
It was Nicholas who hushed them all, so that they heard the sound of the horn, far away, signalling that the race had begun. Even then, they all resumed talking almost immediately and he didn’t stop them again. Henry was well known, but not wildly popular. Jodi had quite a lot of young friends, but only a few of them were here. The friends of Nicholas and Gelis and Kathi herself were back at the keep, ignorant of what was happening. It was just a typical de Fleury escapade. The excitement was because of the betting.
In fact, the talking began to halt, more or less, when it seemed likely that the two lads had entered the trees. After that, there was a long pause. It seemed to some that there had been a shout, quite far away, but after that, nothing happened. After just so long, Nicholas moved. He had hardly started to run when he stopped. Something glittering appeared in the snow at the foot of the slope and bumped along, while a prone figure knelt stiffly up and began to get out. By then Kathi was in the front of the crowd, and knew who it was before he came forward. It was the blue sledge. It was Henry.
Nicholas passed her, going to greet him. Everyone ran forward, and flung Henry’s arm up, and then chaired him. Kathi saw him smile down at Gelis. He looked happier than she had ever seen him: his hat pulled off, his tangled hair tarnished with sweat; his colour flaming; his eyes a deep and brilliant blue. They took him back to the fire and the ale-keg, while half the company stood, waiting for Jodi.
Gelis, who had been talking to Henry, came back and spoke to Kathi and Nicholas. ‘The other sledge skidded. He says Jodi wasn’t hurt, but might have trouble getting started again.’
‘So he just left him there?’ Nicholas said. The anger, Kathi knew, was for himself as well as Henry. The next moment, without a word, he had left the island of light and was forcing his way to the trees.
Kathi said, ‘I think we should stay. Jodi may not come down the same route. Nicholas will shout if he needs us.’ In fact, seeing him go, others were following. Then they all halted, for a second large object had slithered out on the snow and was grating its way to a halt. A battered sledge, with half its rail torn off, and an energetic figure releasing itself into the snow, red cap bobbing.
‘I told you,’ said Henry. He had come to stand behind, a mug of ale in one fist, his face still brilliant. ‘Couldn’t drive a sledge if you paid him.’ He lifted the hand with his ale, and Jodi saw it and waved back. Gelis had gone to meet her tardy son, in a kind of hurrying stroll with which Kathi had every sympathy. It did seem, however, that no one was injured. The men who had set out floundered back, except Nicholas, who made off in the opposite direction. After a moment, Kathi set her jaw and waded after him, making (as seemed only fair) a great many bouncing, slithering noises, some of them unintentional.
She thought he might elude her, but he didn’t seem to have thought of it. She found him sitting hunched in the base of a tree, his arms so tightly furled that