‘You American, huh?’ said the taller one, in English. He had the hound-face, like Van, and obviously thought he was hot stuff. Mentally Letta named him God’s-gift. The other one was shorter, and anxious about most things, a classic henchman. Hench.
‘No, from England,’ she said, also in English, waiting for a proper long sentence she could use to spring her Field on them.
‘You come in aeroplane, huh?’ said God’s-gift, giving her her chance at once.
‘No, we came in a coach. We were supposed to get here yesterday, but the miners held us up with a road-block at Timisoara and then the army kept us there all night.’
The effect wasn’t quite what she’d wanted.
‘Hi! Who taught you to speak like that? You sound like some real old auntie, used to be a teacher or something.’
‘That’s how we talk at home. My parents left Varina before I was born.’
‘Bet you talk Formal too,’ said Hench. ‘You know, my momma says her poppa tried to make them talk Formal on Sundays.’
‘Can’t see the use,’ said God’s-gift. ‘Bloody “leave”.’
‘My grandad says they used to call it the pig-verb,’ said Letta.
‘Use is, teachers got to have something to teach,’ said Hench. He was brighter than he looked, thought Letta.
‘Pig-verb is right,’ said God’s-gift, not apparently noticing that Hench had come up with a genuine thought. ‘Hey! You got any tapes? Genesis? Sting? Bon Jovi?’
Angel was a Genesis fan, as it happened, and had coaxed Letta into going along when her father had given up an evening’s bowls to take her to a concert in Southampton the summer before. Letta wasn’t a fan of anyone – didn’t in her heart of hearts much care for music – but she felt she’d better take a bit of interest so as not to feel left out, and she’d enjoyed the Genesis concert much more than she’d expected, not the music itself, but the sense of being carried along on a tide of excitement – nothing like as fake as she’d expected – and looking at the weird clothes the fans wore – all that.
It really paid off now. They squatted on the grass beside her. Even God’s-gift was impressed as she told them about it. Soon he was wanting to know where she was staying, and whether she had to look after Donna the whole time, and then how many cars her family had and how big their swimming-pool was. No swimming-pool! They were astounded. Two cars, and eight separate rooms in the house, and Genesis concerts just down the road, but no swimming-pool. It didn’t make sense. Everybody in the West had a swimming-pool. They knew that because they’d seen it on Dallas and Dynasty – old, old episodes, from what they told her about the plots.
She put them off about meeting again, saying she was in a group and she didn’t know what they’d be doing, and yes she expected she’d have to look after Donna most of the time (liar – Steff loved doing that). God’s-gift actually seemed disappointed. An English girl who’d been to a live Genesis concert would be something to boast about, even if she wasn’t startlingly beautiful and a bit young and hadn’t got a swimming-pool. Then somebody whistled from down the slope, friends of the pair, and they got up. God’s-gift had one last try.
‘Know what you’re doing this evening?’
‘We’re all going to a folk concert, I think.’
‘That old stuff! Twangle ping, twingle pung, my goat is dead. Can’t stand it. Have fun, though. See you.’
They machoed away, holding hands again, to join their friends. Letta thanked her stars that Nigel hadn’t been there. He’d have felt challenged to out-macho God’s-gift, and that would have been really embarrassing. And at least it had been a change to talk to someone who didn’t want to know if Restaur Vax was coming.
LEGEND
The Hermit of Lapiri
NOW THE PASHAS of Falje, of Slot, of Aloxha and of Jirin said in their hearts, ‘There is no Pasha in Potok to oversee the taxes, and to leave to the people enough for next year’s seed to be sown, so that next year’s harvest may be taxed in its turn. Soon the Sultan will send a new Pasha to Potok, so let us at once strip from the town all that we can, and carry it to our own Pashaliks. But let us do it under pretext of law.’
They summoned the aldermen of Potok and said, ‘By your treachery was your Pasha slain, for you warned Restaur Vax of his going to Riqui. Therefore you must pay the blood-price of a Pasha, and that is seventeen thousand kronin.’
Then the aldermen implored them and said, ‘How shall we find such a sum, when the yearly tax of Potok is but seven hundred kronin?’
The Pashas said, ‘It is for you to answer your own question. You have treasure, all of you, hidden below your stair. Your wives wear gold pins in their shawls. And take heed to gather the blood-price by St Axun’s Day, for should you fail we will take the blood-price in blood. Every fifth man we will slay with the sword, and your sons we shall take for slaves, and your sisters and daughters for our own uses, and your roof-trees we will burn with fire. See to it.’
At that the aldermen of Potok despaired, and took counsel. And one said, ‘Let us send to Restaur Vax to come to our rescue, saying that it is he who has brought this vengeance on us by slaying our Pasha.’
So they agreed, though some thought in their hearts that they would betray Restaur Vax to the Pashas, and so save their town.
When the message was brought to Restaur Vax he said, ‘We must go to the aid of Potok.’
His chieftains answered, ‘What are these townsmen to us? They are Greeks and Magyars and Croats.1 They buy for three stija and sell for ten. They have treasure of their own below their stairs. Let them pay their own price.’
Then Restaur Vax spoke strongly with them, saying, ‘Potok is the heart of Varina, as the mountains are its soul. How can the soul live without the body, and how can the body live without its heart?’
But they would not hear him.
Then Restaur Vax said, ‘Your choice is your choice, but I will go. Alone I will go, if need be.’
Lash the Golden said, ‘Body, heart and soul are all one to me, and mine are sworn to you. I will come also.’
And the Kas Kalaz, not to be shamed by Lash, said he would go with them, and so said some few others, but with doubting hearts, for they were not enough to fight the Pashas on a level plain.
But Restaur Vax cheered them and said, ‘What we cannot win with our swords we must win with our wits. Moreover we must bind these merchants to us with ties of blood and of gold, or when the chance comes they will think to betray us. Gather therefore with your best men into the wood above St Valia, and I will come to you there on the Eve of St Axun.’
Then he took his horse and rode to Lapiri, where lived a hermit who had been once sub-Prior of St Valia’s, and knew all its secret ways, but now was of great age and blind, and to him he told what was in his heart.
Then the hermit said, ‘For what they have done to St Valia’s, and what they will do to our sacred land, I will help you as I can. But even to the Turk I will tell no lie, lest I peril my soul.’2
To that Restaur Vax agreed. He put the hermit on his horse and led him by goat-paths and the paths of the hunter until, on the Eve of St Axun’s, they came to the wood above St Valia. Thence a boy led the hermit down into the town and took him to the aldermen. To them he spoke thus:
‘I am the Hermit of Lapiri, who in former days was sub-Prior of St Valia’s. I have heard of your need, and I will go to the Pashas tomorrow and tell them of a secret place where they will find a treasure of seventeen thousand kronin, and that they may take as the blood-price for the Pasha of Potok. But hear me, these Pashas are men of insatiate greed, and they will ask me if there is any other treasure in Potok.’