A Voice in the Wind by Francine Rivers Read Free Book Online

follow our tradition.”
    Her hand tightened. “You were fifteen when you took Ania as your bride, sixteen when you lost her in childbirth, and your son as well. Two years later, you triumphed over Bructeri raiders and were allowed the honor of removing the iron ring from your finger. Your father said you fought better than any warrior he had ever seen. He was proud of you.” She gripped his arm. “I am proud of you!”
    She fell silent, the tears streaming down her face as she looked into the flames again. “We had peace for two years.”
    “And then Julius Civilis came to us and told us of the rebellion in Rome.”
    “Yes,” she said, looking up at him again. “And a chance of freedom.”
    “Vespasian has taken control, Mother.”
    “Vespasian is a man. We have Tiwaz on our side. Have you not listened to Veleda’s prophecies? Freedom will not come to us as a gift, Atretes. We must fight for it.”
    He raked his hand back through his blond hair and stared up at the stars. If only he had the knowledge of a priest and could read the answer there, in the heavens. He wanted to fight! He wanted it so badly that his muscles grew taut and hard and his heart beat faster. He felt most alive when he was in battle, fighting for victory and for his very life. As a chieftain, he would have other things of which to think, others to consider.
    “When you were a boy, you dreamed of leaving the tribe and becoming part of Marcobus’ retinue,” his mother said quietly.
    Atretes looked down at her in surprise. Did she know everything that was in his mind?
    She touched his face tenderly. “You never spoke of it out of loyalty to your father, but he knew as well as I. Atretes, you have another destiny. I read the signs at your birth. You will lead your people to freedom.“
    “Or death,” he said grimly.
    “Many will die,” she said solemnly. “I among them.”
    “Mother,” he said, but her hand tightened on his arm, silencing him.
    “It will be so. I have seen it.” Her blue eyes became vague and disquieting. “Your name will become known in Rome. You will fight as no other man in the tribe of Chatti has done before you and you will triumph over every foe.” Her voice was strange and distant. “A storm is coming that will blow across the Empire and destroy it. It will come from the north and the east and west, and you will be a part of it. And there is a woman, a woman with dark hair and dark eyes, a woman of strange ways whom you will love.” She fell silent, blinking as though coming out of a deep sleep.
    Atretes’ heart beat fast. He had seen his mother like this only a few times before, and each time there was a coldness in the pit of his stomach. Had she been anyone else, Atretes would have discounted her words as those of a mother dreaming of greatness for her son. But he could not, for his mother was a respected seer and diviner, revered by some as a goddess.
    Her expression cleared. She let out her breath and smiled bleakly. “You must rest, Atretes,” she said. “You must be ready for what is ahead.” She looked away into the glowing embers of the death house. “The fire is almost out. Leave me alone with Hermun,” she said softly, her face like gold in the flickering light.
    It was hours before Atretes could sleep. When he arose from his pallet at dawn and came out of the longhouse, he saw his mother collecting his father’s bones from the ashes and placing them in an earthen vessel for burial.
    Four more men died of battle wounds before the sun reached its zenith, and new death houses were being built.
    Then word was brought to Atretes that a deserter had been caught. Atretes knew the men were looking to him to lead the council. He knew what had to be done, but bringing judgment on a man, even one such as Wagast, sat ill with him.
    The men gathered in the oak grove, the high council sitting near the sacred tree. The night air was cool and moist; the sounds of frogs and owls echoed eerily around the