Gool by Maurice Gee Page A

them. Hari was her father and Tarl was Hari’s father. It was enough. She wished only that he would tie a cloth about his loins, but decided it was better not to offer him one.
    They walked down a twisting gully to the edge of a steep incline. Thunder clouds like bread dough swelled in the south, while westwards veils of rain dropped across the sky. Then a burst of sunshine lit a patch of white that gleamed like pearl shell.
    The sea, Xantee said.
    ‘The sea,’ she said to Tarl.
    He showed no interest, but called a halt. They rested with their backs against a wall of warm rock. Yellow plains stretched away almost to the edge of the distant rain. At the margin Xantee saw a grey uneven line running inland from the sea.
    Duro, that’s the city.
    No.
    Yes. ‘Tarl, is that the city?’
    ‘City,’ he grunted, and sucked at the gnawed bone he had carried all morning. He broke it at the joint and threw half to each of the dogs.
    Belong, Duro whispered. I was born there.
    They watched almost without breathing, although nothing moved except the thunderheads. The city was only a thin grey line. In a moment the rain slid down and hid it. Yet, Xantee thought, it’s more – more than just a line. She had sensed – or had she seen? – a film of something lying over it, like the film of lost life on the eye of a netted fish lying in the bottom of a dinghy. She shivered. There was a gool in there, perhaps the mother gool, the largest one. What better place could it have for its home?
    She tried to eat but found she could not swallow.
    Pearl and Hari must have come this way, Duro said.
    Yes, Xantee said, although she thought it had probably been further west. Pearl and Tealeaf, escaping from the city, and Hari searching for his father. They had crossed the plain into these hills. The river down there, pink in the sun, must be the river where Hari had killed Pearl’s brother, Hubert. He had named one of the twins after Hubert – making up for the life he had taken – while Pearl had named the girl twin Blossom after her sister thrown from the cliff.
    Xantee shivered. So much killing. And it seemed there might be more to come.
    ‘Where are the burrows, Tarl?’
    ‘On the other side of the city.’
    ‘And that’s where Keech is? And the Clerk is in the city?’
    ‘Let the boy ask.’
    ‘What happened to the workers, Tarl?’ Duro said. ‘They had an army. My father was in it till he died.’
    ‘Some joined the clerks. Others ran away into the plains and made towns. Maybe they’re still there, I don’t know.’
    He said something to the dogs and Him stood up and stretched and trotted away.
    ‘Where’s he going?’
    ‘To find a cave. The storm is coming.’
    It lasted the rest of that day and all the night. They stayed in the cave the dog had found. At dawn the rain and thunder rolled away. The plain was washed clean and the distant city had turned black.
    ‘Can we get there today?’ Xantee said.
    ‘Look at the river,’ Duro said.
    It foamed and twisted and from high on the cliff they heard stones rumbling in its bed.
    Tarl did not seem worried. He led them down a goat track to the plain. They waited beside the river and by nightfall it was low enough to cross. Tarl carried a dog under each arm. The water was still strong enough to sweep them away.
    They pushed on through the night, making up time, and hid in scrub below the city wall as the sun came up.
    ‘Give me a piece of your blanket, girl,’ Tarl said.
    He tore a strip from the side and tied it about his waist and between his legs.
    So I get cold at night, Xantee thought. Why can’t Duro get cold?
    I’m bigger than you, he replied, hearing. My blanket hardly covers me.
    ‘Tarl,’ he said, ‘are we going into the city first or the burrows?’
    ‘Burrows,’ Tarl said.
    ‘I can’t go there. I’m white.’
    ‘White, brown, black, doesn’t matter. Men go where they go. They fight for whoever feeds them best.’
    They had reached the city close to the end