Read Online The Limping Man by Maurice Gee - Free Book Online

to jerk the stool away and sit her on her bum.
    ‘I want to sleep now,’ she said. ‘I’ve told you what Danatok said.’
    Tealeaf showed her the bed. Hana tried it. Too soft. If she knew where Hawk was she would go outside and sleep close to him. But she had no idea where he slept – some tree branch, high up, or some ledge on a cliff. Each dawn she looked anxiously for him in the sky. He was always far away and did not plunge down to her until mid-morning.
    Hana slept. Hawk was in her dreams. Blossom too. The woman was brown and dark-eyed and quick when she moved, but as still as a lizard when she listened. She did not laugh in her head, as Hana suspected the Dwellers did, but aloud, and softly, with a sound like stones rattling in a creek. The Limping Man would burn her in a slow fire. She was beautiful, like Mam must have been when she was young. She wore a brown shift, tied at the waist, and her hair in two plaits, but did not seem to care where the halves fell – both back or one curled on her shoulder and one on her breast. When Hana woke she whispered, ‘Get out of my dreams.’ She knew the woman had been poking in her head as she slept.
    In the morning she took her belongings and crept away. Light showed over the eastern hills. Hawk would soon be on the wing, hunting his prey. She was nervous that if she was not clear of Stone Creek by mid-morning he would abandon her and fly away south. It had taken all her days of travelling to secure his trust. She had it now, and would not risk damaging it by mixing with Dwellers. By the time he looked for her she would be high on a hill, where he could scan the countryside before dropping down.
    Hana went along the beach, past fishing boats lying tilted at low tide. No one was stirring. The sky was red. She ran south, keeping a steady pace. This was the way she had come the previous day, and found Blossom and Tealeaf waiting for her. Hawk had made his cry and peeled away inland. He did not like her going there. Now she whispered, Sorry, Hawk. I had to take a message for Danatok. And, something in her added, for Mam.
    How had Blossom known she was coming? Hana stopped to chew some smoked meat from her pack. She shivered. The woman knew everything. She had probably woken and watched Hana creep away.
    It rained that morning. Gusts of wind blew warm showers in her face. She enjoyed it, but wondered how Hawk managed, in the sky. Was he above the rain? Did it make his hunting difficult?
    She turned inland at a little stream – again the way she had come – and broke clear of the forest and climbed a bare hill. The rain stopped; and there, in her head, was a picture of herself, tiny on the summit, looking up. It vanished and she knew Hawk received, for a moment, her picture of him, a small circling dot against a sky suddenly blue.
    She had not felt so happy since before Mam died.
    Hana and Hawk travelled south for several days. Neither decided which way to go, it seemed her steps and his soarings fitted on a string. But the direction was south, even though they struck inland when the coast was too broken for her to pass, and back to the sea when the hills were too steep. Hawk needed space for his hunting, he could not follow prey into the trees. He also took food from the sea, snatching with his hooked feet as he skimmed along the surface. Several times he brought her a fish.
    She made a shelter and stayed for two nights, but headed south again when she sensed he was restless. And she too wanted to go south. Something beckoned her and she could not understand. Was it love for Mam or hatred of the Limping Man?
    Just before dusk Hawk dropped down. He sat on a rock and folded his wings. He had never come so close. She approached until she could have touched him, and offered him a piece of the fish she had baked – his own fish. He did not want it. She ate, not watching him, leaning against the rock. After a moment she hoisted herself and sat beside him. His beady eyes watched