The Trouble with Peace (The Age of Madness #2) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,168

on other people’s debts.” Savine snapped her fingers at one of Leo’s aides. “Escort Lady Finree and her friend back to the Lord Governor’s residence. And see that they do not interfere.”

“Your Grace.”

“Leo, please!” Finree shrieked as she was hustled away. “Savine!”

But Savine had already turned her horse towards the ships and clicked her tongue to move him on.

She couldn’t have been much over sixteen, this girl, but she strode up bold as you like. She had broad, solid shoulders and broad, solid hips and a broad, solid jaw she was intent on aiming at Shivers however far he towered above her, which was quite the distance as she wasn’t tall. She planted the butt of an old spear on the ground in front of him, her broad, solid knuckles white about the time-darkened haft.

He looked down mildly at her. “Hello?”

“I want to talk to Rikke,” she growled.

Shivers held out his hand. “There she is.”

“What, her?”

“No,” said Isern-i-Phail. “Rikke is the other one-eyed woman with runes tattooed on her face. Yes, her, girl, who the bloody hell else would she be?”

“Huh,” grunted the girl, walking up to Rikke. “You’re younger’n I thought you’d be.”

“Give it time,” said Rikke. “I’ll get older.”

“Or you’ll get killed,” said Isern.

Rikke sighed. “She’s always trying to cheer me up. You’re a well of good cheer, Isern.”

“You’re Isern-i-Phail?” asked the girl, lip even more wrinkled.

“No,” said Rikke. “Isern is the other gap-toothed, tattoo-handed, fingerbone-wearing hillwoman. Yes, her, girl, who the bloody hell else would she be?”

“You three are quite the jesters, ain’t you?”

“Have a smile at breakfast,” droned Shivers, stony-faced, “you’ll be shitting joy by lunch.”

“Now who might you be and what might you be after?” asked Rikke.

“I’m Corleth.” The girl frowned at Rikke, then Isern, then Shivers, like she was daring them to call her a liar. “And I want to fight.” She snarled the last word like a curse. Reminded Rikke of one o’ those mean little dogs that’ll take on anything, no matter how big.

“Then fight you shall. We can use every spear. Get this girl a shield!” she called to one of the smiths, and Corleth strutted off with her broad jaw in the air, much pleased to be a warrior.

“Don’t like her looks,” said Isern, eyes narrowed.

“You don’t like anyone’s looks,” said Rikke. “You’re just jealous of her youth and strong hips.”

Isern propped her hands on her own hips, such as they were. “I’m the way the moon wants me and naught wrong about it from where I stand.”

Rikke snorted. “You’re straight down like a sausage, and a gristly one at that.”

“You’re a fine one to talk, Skinny Rikke. Every pinch o’ meat fell off you when you went to see the witch. You’re like a head stuck on a spear these days, but without the flies. Most o’ the flies, at least.” And she burst out laughing.

“Harsh,” said Rikke, but by a poor stroke of luck she was obliged to wave off a fly at that very moment. She chose to rise above it as a leader should, turning away to take in the gathering.

Rikke had called, half-expecting she’d be ignored, but folk had answered and then some. They’d come in a trickle, then a flow, then a flood, from every village, farmstead and woodsman’s hut in the Protectorate. The smiths and fletchers of Uffrith had worked their hands raw the past few weeks arming folk, then they’d stuck on helmets themselves and joined the throng. Some of the town’s women had even took a break from nattering at the well to stitch Rikke a standard of her own. A big eye, with runes around it like the ones tattooed into her face. The Long Eye, on a red field, looking into what comes. It slapped and flapped against its pole behind her now, looking down on the greatest weapontake Uffrith ever saw.

“You sure about this?” murmured Shivers. “Not too late to turn back.”

Rikke frowned at him. “Never marked you as a turner-backer.”

Shivers only shrugged. He was a tough man to offend. Maybe living with a wound like his made harsh words seem harmless. “I’m for whatever works.”

“Well, you’re a big man, so you wouldn’t understand. When you’re small, you have to take chances. We might not get another chance like this.”

Shivers frowned at the warriors gathered, and slowly nodded. “Aye, I reckon.”

“Besides.” And Rikke leaned close, and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, which was something like nudging a tree trunk. “It’ll turn out sweet.” She pulled