The Wind Singer. William Nicholson
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He was close to Kestrel now, standing gazing at her in silence. Kestrel knew that he was offering her a deal: her obedience in exchange for her pride.
‘Perhaps Kestrel is going to get up, and go back to her correct place.’
Kestrel trembled, but she didn’t move. Dr Batch waited a moment longer, then hissed at her:
‘Well, well. Kestrel and Mumpo.What a sweet couple.’
All that morning, he kept up the attack. In the grammar lesson, he wrote up on the board:
NAME THE TENSES
Kestrel loves Mumpo
Kestrel is loved by Mumpo
Kestrel will love Mumpo
Kestrel has loved Mumpo
Kestrel shall have loved Mumpo
In the arithmetic lesson, he wrote on the board:
If Kestrel gives Mumpo 392 kisses and
98 hugs, and half the hugs are
accompanied by kisses, and one-eighth
of the kisses are slobbery, how many
slobbery kisses with hugs could
Kestrel give Mumpo?
And so it went on, and the class snickered away, as Dr Batch intended. Bowman looked back at Kestrel many times, but she just sat there, doing her work, not saying a word.
When time came for the lunch-break, he joined her as she walked quietly out of the room. To his annoyance, he found the dribbling Mumpo was coming with Kestrel, sticking close to her side.
‘Get lost, Mumpo,’ said Kestrel.
But Mumpo wouldn’t get lost. He simply trotted along beside Kestrel, his eyes never leaving her face. From time to time, unprompted, he would murmur, ‘I like Kess’, and then wipe his nose-dribble on to his shirt sleeve.
Kestrel was heading for the way out.
‘Where are you going, Kess?’
‘Out,’ said Kestrel. ‘I hate school.’
‘Yes, but Kess – ’ Bowman didn’t know what to say. Of course she hated school. Everyone hated school. But you had to go.
‘What about the family rating?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kestrel. And walking faster now, she began to cry. Mumpo saw this, and was devastated. He skipped around her, reaching out his grubby hands to paw her, and uttered small cries designed to give her comfort.
‘Don’t cry, Kess. I’ll be your friend, Kess. Don’t cry.’
Kestrel brushed him away angrily.
‘Get lost, Mumpo. You stink.’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Mumpo humbly.
‘Kess,’ said Bowman, ‘come back to school, sit in your proper place, and Batch will leave you alone.’
‘I’m never going back,’ said Kestrel.
‘But you must.’
‘I’m going to tell pa. He’ll understand.’
‘And I will,’ said Mumpo.
‘Go away, Mumpo!’ shouted Kestrel, right in his face. ‘Go away or I’ll bash you!’
She raised a threatening fist. Mumpo dropped whimpering to his knees.
‘Hurt me if you want. I don’t mind.’
Kestrel’s fist remained suspended in mid-air. She stared at Mumpo. Bowman too was watching Mumpo. Suddenly he was caught unawares by the feeling of what it was like to be Mumpo. A dull cold terror rolled over him, and a penetrating loneliness. He almost cried out loud, so intense was the hunger for kindness.
‘She doesn’t mean it,’ he said. ‘She won’t hit you.’
‘She can if she wants.’
His face gazed adoringly up at her, his eyes now as shiny as his upper lip.
‘Tell him you won’t hit him, Kess.’
‘I won’t hit you,’ said Kestrel, dropping her fist. ‘You’re too stinky to touch.’
She turned and walked fast down the street, Bowman at her side. Mumpo followed a few paces behind. So that he wouldn’t hear, Kestrel talked to Bowman in her head.
I can’t go on like this, I can’t.
What else can we do?
I don’t know, she said. Something. Something soon, or I’ll explode.
3
Bad words said loud
As she left Orange District with Bowman and Mumpo following her, Kestrel had no plan in her head, other than to get away from the hated school: but in fact she was making her way down one of the city’s four main streets to the central arena, where the wind singer stood.
The city of Aramanth was built in the shape of a circle, a drum even, since it was enclosed by high walls, raised long ago to protect the people from the warrior tribes of the plains. No one had dared attack mighty Aramanth for many generations now, but the great walls remained, and few people ventured out of the city. What was there in the world beyond that anybody could possibly want? Only the rock-strewn seashore to the south, where the great grey ocean thundered and rolled; and the barren desert wastes to the north, stretching all the way to the distant mountains. No food out there; no comfort, no safety. Whereas within the walls there was all that was necessary for life, more, for a good life. Every citizen of Aramanth knew how fortunate they were, to live in this rare haven of peace, plenty, and equal opportunity for all.
The city was arranged in its districts in concentric rings. The outermost ring, in the shadow of the walls, was formed by the great cube-shaped apartment blocks of Grey District. Next came the low-rise apartments that made up Maroon District, and the crescents of small terraced houses of Orange District, where the Hath family lived. Nearest the central sector of the city lay the broad ring of Scarlet District, a region of roomy detached houses, each with its own garden, laid out in a pleasing maze of twisting lanes, so that each house felt special and different, though of course all were painted red. And finally and most gloriously, at the heart of the city, there was White District. Here was the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor, Creoth the Sixth, the father of Aramanth, looked out over his citizen-children. Here