Kinghammer leans forwards. ‘Before it fell. Say it, kid. You have to own death.’
Roofkeeper looks down.
‘Got something to add, boy?’
Roofkeeper nods.
‘Well?’ The tankard sloshes expansively.
‘They’re not dead.’ Slowly, almost as if he’s figuring out the words as he says them. ‘They’re not dead. Well, of course, some of them are. The ones that fought Crowkisser, the ones that resisted. But most of the folks in Astic are alive. Most of them are marching for her.Followingher.’
Kinghammer snorts. ‘Weak. They might as well be dead. What have they got left once she’s done with them? What have they got to believe in? She gutted the damn gods. Split the hosts in the temple from crown to crack and read stories from their bones. What have those poor fools got to believe in?’
Roofkeeper scratches his beard. ‘They’ve got her.’
Kinghammer sketches a sign over his lips. Spits. ‘Her. That’s the fucking problem. Take her out of the equation and you couldgo home.’ He shoots a glance at Quickfish. ‘Take her out of the equation and Skinpainter could set their mind on tending to your mother, rather than reading the wind for every hint of the witch’s blood-damned plans.’
Icecaller catches Quickfish’s eye, mouths something indecipherable. It looks almost like an apology.
Kinghammer barely notices. ‘But of course, she has him.’ The handle of the tankard twists and bends. ‘Slickwalker. What I wouldn’t give to have that little ratshit on the anvil.’
Icecaller snorts. ‘Oh, Dad. Always the way, isn’t it? Hammer it hard ’til it’s done with. Enemies, metal, women.’
Kinghammer stands and Quickfish remembers again just howbigIcecaller’s father is. For a long moment, he looks furious. Then his face is split by a huge grin. He scoops Icecaller up in his arms. ‘You are avilechild.’
Two steps take him onto the table, scattering cups. ‘Look,’ he booms to the assembled crowd. ‘Look at myvileoffspring.’ Icecaller beams from her perch in his arms. ‘Look at this ungrateful wretch. What shall we do with her?’
The crowd’s response is loud, enthusiastic, uncoordinated. Half of them still high on the blood and thunder of the fight.
In Quickfish’s arms, Nigh stirs, presses his face to hers with a small palm, gestures emphatically on his cheeks and chest. Quickfish chuckles, pulls Roofkeeper in with his free arm and whispers to him. Roofkeeper pauses, stifles a laugh, and nods.
‘What shall be done with her?’ bellows Kinghammer.
‘Hesper has a suggestion!’ yells Roofkeeper.
The room goes quiet.
Kinghammer turns slowly to face Roofkeeper, kneeling until he holds the limp Icecaller at eye-level. She winks.
With deadpan sincerity Roofkeeper points to Quickfish. ‘I defer to the noble lord’s son.’
Kinghammer looks over his shoulder, playing to the crowd. ‘Shall we hear what the Son of Fallon has to say?
The cheers are deafening. Crockery smashes. Hands beat on walls, shields.
Quickfish beckons Kinghammer in and whispers in one massive ear.
The laughter starts in Kinghammer’s chest even before he stands. Shaking with mirth, he turns to the crowd and lifts his daughter above his head as he screams, ‘Feed her to the eagles!’
The hands of the people of Thell rise like talons and welcome Icecaller as she falls.
62
the high call of the curlew
the sound of the sea carried over land
salt cradled within beating bone
