The youth staggered back, clutching his face. He seemed more shocked than hurt, which Daizell regretted. ‘You – what – how dare you?’ he said thickly. ‘Do you know who I am? I’m Tom Acaster! My father is Sir Benjamin Acaster!’
‘You’re a slobbering ape, and your father is an imbecile for not drowning you at birth,’ Daizell snarled. His throat stillstung with the taste of vomit. ‘You stupid little turd, you’ve probably killed that man!’
‘You wait till my father finds you! I’ll have your name and direction, sir!’ The youth’s voice was nasal, choked with blood.
‘My name is Daizell Charnage.Charnage, like carnage with an H, got that? And as for your father—’ He grabbed the youth’s shoulder, threw him down to the ground with the aid of a foot between his ankles, and assisted him into the ditch by means of a few forceful kicks to the posterior. The howls and the muddy splash relieved his feelings a little.
He turned away, brushing his hands, and realised everyone was staring at him.
‘I’m not saying you were wrong to do it,’ the baby’s mother remarked thoughtfully. ‘Notwrong. But Sir Benjamin lives just at Upton Snodsbury, not half a mile up the road, and he’s powerful careful of his lad.Andhe’s the magistrate hereabouts.’
‘That young fool overturned us!’ Cassian said. ‘Surely nobody will defend that!’
Everyone turned to look at him. Daizell contemplated the fact that they were an indeterminate way into the countryside, with a rich man’s wrath a short distance off, and any replacement coach some hours away. ‘Cassian? I think we’ll walk.’
At least Cassian didn’t have a trunk. They trudged along the road together, each with his travelling bag, under the April sun. Cassian had wiped most of the blood off his face, and seemed to be breathing without issue.
‘Your nose isn’t broken?’ Daizell asked.
‘No. I’m prone to nosebleeds.’
‘Good. Not the nosebleeds. That it’s not broken.’
They crunched along some more. Daizell had led them off the main road at the first fork, and sincerely hoped they were going somewhere useful: he’d mostly been propelled by the urge not to have an outraged magistrate catch up with him. Cassian was wearing Wellington boots, which seemed not to be uncomfortable, but he looked much as a man might after being overturned in a chaise and forced to walk along a warm road without a drink because his idiot companion had punched a powerful man’s heir in the face.
‘Sorry,’ Daizell said abruptly.
‘For what?’
‘Hitting that fool.’
‘Why?’
‘Because now we’re probably in a deal of trouble.’
‘Nonsense,’ Cassian said. ‘I’m sure he’ll be taken up by the authorities and held to account.’
‘Weren’t you listening? His fatheristhe authorities!’
‘There’s plenty of magistrates. I don’t see anything to worry about. And in any case, you did quite right, since he didn’t seem to feel the slightest remorse.Accidents happen, indeed. Outrageous. I’m not at all surprised you lost your temper.’
‘It was a stupid thing to do. If we get in trouble—’
‘I’m not worried about that,’ Cassian said, with the serenity of the extremely naive. He would change his tune fast enough when he was faced with a rampaging baronet throwing around his wealth and authority. ‘And I had meant to say, too, thank you for what you did back there.’
‘I did nothing.’
‘You did everything. You saved that child.’
Daizell felt himself flush, as if his face wasn’t warm enough. ‘I dare say the mother could have held her if need be.’
‘At the bottom of that heap? No. It was a good thing to do, and a kind one,’ Cassian said. ‘But really, I meant thank you for instructing me. I realise I was no great help to you, and I’m sorry for it.’
‘You were astonishing with those horses.’
‘When I realised I needed to be, which is to say, when you pointed out the problem. I couldn’t seem to think.’ He sounded as though it was eating at him. ‘I simply panicked, which is contemptible. I don’t know why; I’ve had spills before.’
‘Being a passenger in a stage is quite different from driving your own team. You can’t see what’s going to happen, you aren’t in charge.’ Cassian nodded, confirming that indeed he did drive his own horses. Why wasn’t he now? ‘Whereas that was my third tumble in a stagecoach, so I’m used to it. Not that sort of tumble,’ he added as Cassian choked.
