Nation - Пратчетт Терри Дэвид Джон (читать книги бесплатно полностью TXT) 📗

Cox looked at the watchers, and bowed and waved like a musician who had just played a very difficult piano concerto. But the Raiders glanced at him as if he was a little boy who was proud of having wet himself.

Daphne was still trying to deal with string, but on top of that floated: Three shots in a row! The Dutch captain’s gun was a revolver!

“I think this is the time,” Mau said. “Pilu should have got them confused enough by now. Turn my words into Trouserman, will you?”

And he strode off down the beach before she could argue. He pushed his way into the circle before anyone knew he was there, and faced the Raiders.

“Who says our guns do not fire?” he bellowed. “Enough arguing! Fire!”

Up on the cliff, the unknown Papervine Woman, who had been crouched obediently over her green cannon, touched the slow match to the fuse and, as instructed, ran away very fast and stood behind a tree until the thunder had died away, and then ran back even faster. She ignored the cannon, which was under a cloud of steam, and looked at the lagoon.

The ball had splashed in the middle, capsizing three boats. Figures were in the water. She smiled and turned back to the cannon. Wordless though she was, she’d begged to be allowed to fire it. Hadn’t she gathered all the papervine? Hadn’t she woven it into ropes from dawn to dust, tangling into it the inexhaustible hatred in her heart? Hadn’t Mau seen her helping Pilu shaping metal plates over the cracks in the cannon? Hadn’t he seen how she had taken care to wrap the ropes around the cannon, layer after layer, every one as strong as her longing for revenge?

And he had, and they had held; thin little blades of papervine had bound the red thunder in.

She went back to the tree, took up her baby from his cradle made from papervine, and kissed him, and wept.

“We will fire again,” Pilu yelled, in the confusion. “We will destroy your big canoes. We have made the challenge of single combat. You must accept! Or do you want to swim home?”

Raiders clustered around Cox, who was swearing at them.

“What have we got to lose, Mr. Cox?” Daphne shouted above the hubbub. “Don’t you think you’ll win?” And then in the island tongue she hissed: “We will sink every canoe! Our guns are well guarded!” Mau whispered to her and she added, “If you raise a weapon in the Kahana circle, they will kill you, Mr. Cox. It’s against all the rules!”

There was a heavy thudding that turned out to be Milo thumping his chest. “Who will fight?” he yelled. “Who will fight?”

“All right! I’ll fight!” Cox snarled. He pushed away a few hangers-on and dusted off his shirt. “Huh, and I’m supposed to be king in this vicinity,” he complained. “You wouldn’t find the Brigade of Guards coming over all treasonable like this, my word, no!” He glared at Milo. “I’ll fight the big one,” he said. “It’s not like he’ll be easy to miss.”

“You have a plan, don’t you?” Daphne hissed to Mau. “You’re not going to let him shoot Milo dead, are you?”

“Yes, I have a plan. No, he’s not going to shoot Milo. We’d say Milo is chief if one of the Raiders was fighting, because he’d win. But I can’t let Cox shoot Milo. He’s so big, so easy to sho — ”

Daphne’s expression went solid as understanding came. “It’s you, isn’t it…? You are going to fight him.”

She was jostled out of the way as Milo dropped his huge hand on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to stand a bit lopsidedly.

“Listen to me!” he declared to the Raiders. “I am not the chief! Mau is the chief. He has risen from the country of Locaha. He set the dead men free. The gods hid from him in a cave, but he found them, and they told him the secret of the world! And he has no soul.”

Cor blimey! thought Daphne. One of the footmen had been sacked for saying that when she was eight, and until she’d sailed on the Sweet Judy she’d thought it was the worst swear word in the world. It still felt as if it was.

Cor blimey! That was the most words Milo had ever said in a day! They might have been said by his brother, because they were the truth disguised as lies, and there was something about that fact that made them echo in the head. They seemed to be doing so in the heads of the warriors. They stared at Mau in astonishment.

A heavy hand landed on Daphne’s shoulder too, and Cox said, “Missie? I’m going to have to shoot the little bugger, right?”

She spun around and shoved his arm away. But he caught her tightly by the wrist.

“I could shoot you, Cox, whatever you say!”

Cox laughed. “Oh, you’ve got the taste for killing, missie?” he said, his face a few inches from hers. “Mind you, poisoning don’t really count, I always think. Did he gurgle? Did he go green? But well done for bashin’ two of Polegrave’s teeth right out, the evil little monkey…. He didn’t try to mess you up, did he? I’d shoot him if he tried anything unsavory. Oh, but in point of fact I shot him yesterday, ’cause he really was a pain in the arse, excuse my French — ”

Daphne managed to pull her arm free. “Don’t touch me again! Don’t you even suggest that I’m like you! Don’t you — ”

“Stop.” Mau didn’t shout. His spear shouted for him. It was aimed at Cox’s heart.

No one moved for several seconds, and then Cox said, slowly and carefully, “Ah, is this your beau? What will dear Daddy say? Oh my word! An’ you taught him how to talk, too.”

The cannibal twin of the prime minister stepped between them with his hands raised, and suddenly a lot of spears and clubs were being shaken.

“No fight yet!” he said to Cox in broken English, and turned to Daphne. “The boy has no soul?” he asked in the island tongue.

“The wave took away his soul, but he has made himself a new one,” she said.

“Wrong. No man can make a soul!” But he’s worried, Daphne thought.

“This one did. He made it outside himself. You are walking on it,” she said. “And don’t try to shuffle away sideways. It covers the whole island, every leaf and pebble!”

“They call you a woman of power, ghost girl.” The man took a step backward. “Is this true? What is the color of birds in the land of Locaha?”

“There are no colors. There are no birds. The fish are silver, and as fast as thought.” The words were just there, ready, in her head. Great Heavens, she thought, I know this!

“What is the length of time you may stay in the land of Locaha?”

“The fall of a drop of water,” said Daphne’s lips before she had finished hearing the question.

“And the soul who makes his own soul… he was in Locaha’s land?”

“Yes. He ran faster than Locaha, though.”

The dark, piercing eyes stayed fixed on her for a while, and then it seemed that she had passed some test.

“You are very clever,” said the old man shyly. “I would like to eat your brains, one day.”

For some reason the books of etiquette that Daphne’s grandmother had forced on her didn’t quite deal with this. Of course, silly people would say to babies, “You’re so sweet I could gobble you all up!” but that sort of nonsense seemed less funny when it was said by a man in war paint who owned more than one skull. Daphne, cursed with good manners, settled for “It’s very kind of you to say so.”

He nodded and headed back to his fellows, who had clustered around Cox.

Mau approached her, smiling. “Their priest likes you,” he said.

“Only for my brains, Mau, and even if he had them for lunch, I’d still have more than you! Didn’t you see that gun he’s got now? It’s a Pepperbox. One of Father’s friends had one! It has six barrels. That’s six shots without reloading! And he’s got an ordinary pistol, too!”

“I shall move fast.”

“You can’t run faster than bullets!”

“I shall stay out of their way,” said Mau with infuriating calmness.

“Look, don’t you understand? He’s got two guns and you’ve got one spear. You’ll run out of spear before he runs out of gun!”