Nada's Escape: Fighters' lies

13.2 Crash

I huff and still among the hedges, trying to get a sense of what's going on through Finley. But no, all I feel is my heart and the sweat beading between my shoulder blades. I glance around at the high hedges and at the slip of sunlight on the path in between. It's a kind of prison too, isn't it, forcing you down one path or the other, but never in between?

But there's a weak point in the hedge just ahead. A broken branch, perhaps. I grin and slip through into the hedgepaths.

The leaves make a tunnel of green sunlight above me, barely blocking out the heat. I creep slowly back to the meadow. I hear the mumbled arguments first, filtering through the maze. I continue creeping, half expecting to see Darcell eavesdropping ahead of me, but the hedge is empty. It's almost like they want to be spied on.

I pause as the voices become distinguishable and try peer through the greenery to pinpoint them. But all I can see here is a lattice of light and leaves. How do they get these hedges so thick?

One voice emerges from a pause. "The fighter's sponsors tell me they're not ready."

"Perhaps you could give them a chance?" Finley lays the question before them artlessly.

What are you doing? I hiss.

Can I concentrate, please? He replies and I subside reluctantly, waiting for their response.

A cracked voice that might be Percival replies, "Perhaps, but you know it's up to the sponsor to decide. Otherwise -"

"Otherwise," A second voice cuts off Percival's. "There are those sponsors who have agreed, Percival included."

"She's a good girl," Percival mutters.

"This amounts to five girls who have the opportunity to pledge tomorrow. If they agree. There's only one course of action left for the remaining six, I'm sorry to say."

Anger tickles along my spine. I imagine the council nodding, rationalising it to each other.

Well disagree! I prompt, with an accompanying spike of panic. This was what he'd promised me wouldn't happen.

Hang on a second.

"Look," Finley starts, "Let me talk to their sponsors. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement."

"Of course," Josef speaks, prompting me to cock my head to one side, "You may do as you please, but if I don't have the enthusiastic consent of both sponsors and girls by the day after tomorrow, there's nothing else we can do."

"I understand." Finley replies. And I almost leap out of my skin. What you understand? No. I don't understand.

"And if we could just ask for a few more days." Finley continues.

"Impossible!" Josef says, "No, preposterous even. If you were a little less occupied with your 'charity work' then you wouldn't even be asking that question. Those girls are lucky to have another day of our time."

I can't contain my anger at that. I plunge into the hedge, branches and prickles scratching at my arms.

What are you doing? Finley asks in a flurry of panic.

I emerge into the sun behind him.

"How dare you?' I roar, "Say there's nothing you can do? You're the freaking cancellarus!"

I can't focus on Josef's blank face so I sweep my eyes across a blurry cluster of councilmen. Lips are slowly pressing into long lines.

"How dare you say that they're lucky to be alive? You're the ones who brought us here. You're the ones responsible for all of this shit and yet you laze about washing your hands of it?"

"Nada-" Finley tries to calm me but I back away from him.

"No. I have more to say."

"I agree with you. Just," Finley interrupts again and I crack a new gasket.

"But just shut up? That's it isn't? That's what you're all thinking." I whirl around to include the council in the accusation. Josef's standing now, fists shaking with uncontained rage.

Anger makes my chest heave but all can see are those stoic faces, not a friend amongst them. Even the white bearded man is shaking his head at me. My words dry up, my chin setting into a defiant pout.

Josef steps lithely between me and the council. "Motion to have her swear fealty with the other girls on Thursday?"

"Seconded." The secretary at the front raises his hand. Shit.

"And the vote?" Josef asks.

A chorus of aye's has my self-righteousness crumpling up into a ball inside my chest.

"Unanimous, then." The secretary confirms, making a note of it in his stupid book.

"Come on." Finley whispers gently, "Leave it for now."

I feel too crushed to move for a moment. Instead I stand there gaping like a fish, waves of embarrassment crashing through me. They can't just do that, can they?

Of course they bloody can! Had I forgotten, in those hedge paths, who I was dealing with? When they make the rules, they do whatever they want.