A Little Hatred (The Age of Madness #1) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,181

of action, already with great victories under their belts, set to inherit the world and reforge it the way they saw fit.

‘Maybe we understand each other after all,’ Stour said softly.

‘We have to be neighbours,’ said Leo, sitting forward. ‘We could waste our strength fighting each other. Waste our lives watching for the knife in our backs, like our oh-so-clever parents have. But we’re our own men, I reckon, and we can find our own way. The Circle of the World is wide. No shortage of other enemies. Might do better if we fought the bastards together.’

‘It’s a pretty picture,’ said the Great Wolf, eyes shining, and Leo wondered if he might trust the thoughtful Stour even less than the furious one. ‘But do you really reckon a wolf and a lion can share the meat?’

‘If there’s enough meat to go around, why not?’

Stour slowly started to smile. ‘Then let’s shake on it, Young Lion.’ And he thrust his hand towards Leo.

Leo wondered if he really was sticking his head in the wolf’s mouth, but he’d come this far. There was no way back. So he winced as he stood, reaching out to take Stour’s hand.

He gave a gasp as the fingers snapped tight around his and he was jerked forward, pain lancing through his wounded side. He found himself bent over Stour with a dagger-blade tickling his neck.

‘Trot into the wolf’s lair talking of friendship?’ Stour clicked his tongue. ‘Not very clever.’

‘No one’s ever accused me of being clever. But we’ve tried being enemies.’ Leo reached around the blade of Stour’s knife to scratch gently at his bandaged face. ‘Look where it’s got us.’

The Great Wolf bared his teeth and Leo felt the knife’s edge press against his throat, the tension in Stour’s arm as he gripped the handle tight.

‘I like you, Brock. Maybe we’re two of a kind after all.’ Stour’s snarl became a grin, and he rammed the knife into the wattle wall, much to Leo’s relief. ‘The Young Lion and the Great Wolf together.’ The grin became a smirk as he squeezed Leo’s hand even tighter. ‘There’s a partnership’ll make the world tremble!’

Empty Chests

The wind gusted up strong, whipping brown leaves from the trees and sending them chasing across the hillside, whipping Rikke’s hair in her face as she stood, watching Leo limp towards her with Jurand and Glaward in tow, silently seething.

She’d been seething ever since the duel, and not always silently, either. Three times she’d gone to the house where he was lying wounded. Three times she’d prowled around outside. Three times she’d stalked away without going in. Wanting to see him, refusing to see him. She’d been hoping her silence would speak in thunder, but some men are wilfully deaf.

Leo bared his teeth as he walked, leaning hard on a stick. That sprinkled some guilt on her anger. He’d fought for them, after all. Risked his life for them on nothing more than her word he’d win. He stumbled, and she almost started forward to help him. But he glanced up, and saw her, and it was then he really started to look pained. As if he expected harsher treatment from her than his enemies. In that, if nothing else, he was wise.

‘I’ll give you pained,’ she muttered under her breath.

Didn’t help her mood at all that, ever since the duel, she could still see ghosts. Misty figures haunting the corners of her vision. Misty after-images that followed faces. Folk preparing the Circle. Folk fighting and dying in the battle. One time a fellow taking a shit in the bushes. No pattern to any of it that she could see. Her left eye still felt hot, her nerves raw and smarting, her stomach squelching and bubbling. That morning she’d got out of bed and given a shriek as, looking back, she caught a glimpse of herself asleep. Now and again, she’d flinch at the thought of that crack in the sky. Shudder at the memory of the black pit beyond, that held the knowing of everything.

Maybe you can force the Long Eye open after all. But closing it again might be another matter.

‘Rikke.’ As he came close, Leo tried a guilty smile which helped neither of them. ‘It’s good to—’

‘Antaup tells me you’ve been off chatting with Stour Nightfall.’

Leo winced. ‘He wasn’t supposed to say anything.’

‘So the problem’s not that you did it, but that he admitted you did it? Tell me you killed the winking bastard this time!’

Leo sighed,