Crimson Fire by Holly Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

could lead again to words of what you can do. Words you have said you will kill me for.”
    Havgan smiled, without warmth. “Then you must be very careful, mustn’t you?”
    She swallowed hard, then reached under the table and grasped a bag made of swan’s skin. “Reach your hand into the bag of Achtwan, then, and choose a rune. You will choose three runes. They are not for past, present, or future. They will tell you the answer to your question in their own way.”
    Havgan reached into the bag. These runes felt heavier, and when he pulled one out, he saw that they were made of solid gold. Gently, he laid the rune on the table. The golden sym- bol glittered in the fi tful light. “You have chosen the Wolf’s Cross,” she said slowly. “This is the rune for unchangeable fate. Choose another.”
    Havgan chose, and laid the golden rune on the table. “You have chosen the Dragon’s Eye. This is a symbol for the dwell- er on the threshold of the mind—that which is hidden within. Choose the last.”
    As he chose, he noticed that her hands had begun to trem- ble. But her voice was steady as she said, “You have chosen Iar, the Magician. It is a symbol for the danger of approaching that which lies hidden.”
    For a moment she studied the runes with her head bowed. Suddenly, she drew off her veil and looked full into his amber eyes. Her own eyes were dark blue, and they blazed now with both power and fear. Her golden hair vied with the shining runes for brightness. “Warrior, you have chosen runes for a fate that was marked before you were born,” she said urgently. “You have chosen runes that say that to ful fi ll your fate, you must not look too closely inside yourself. You can break this path only by looking at that which is hidden there. And if you do not break the path, thousands will die.”
    She took a deep breath, her voice shaking. “I cannot an- swer your question, warrior, because the woman who stands on the rocks in your dreams lives on the threshold of your waking mind. She is that which is inside of you, that which made you. And you know who she is. You know what she is.”
    She went on, her voice pleading, “Listen to me. I beg you. Face what is hidden. Break the path that leads over the sea. Let me help you do this. Let me help you.”
    He looked at her, his face expressionless. Yes, he would have to kill her. It was a shame, because she was a beautiful woman, but she knew too much. But he wouldn’t have to kill her right away. He could take his pleasure with her fi rst.
    “Perhaps you can help me,” he said, putting just the right amount of hesitation and doubt in his voice. “I have never spo- ken to another of that which is inside of me.”
    “Then it is surely time. I can help you do that,” she said eagerly. “Let me help.”
    He smiled at her then, willing warmth into his amber eyes. “Today I fi ght a battle. A battle that I know I will win. And later I will need a woman to help me celebrate.” He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek gently. “Will you be that woman?” She hesitated for a moment, her eyes taking in his hard muscles, his handsome face, his honey-blond hair, and his am-
    ber eyes.
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    Because even a seeress can make a mistake.

    A S H AVGAN AND Wulf faced each other on the fi eld, the shouts of the crowd sounded far away. Wulf grinned unpleasantly at Havgan as they waited for the signal to begin the fi ght.
    Eorl Wiglaf and his retainers stood on a wooden platform at the edge of the fi eld. Sigerric stood with the rest of his warband to the right of the platform, while Wulf’s warband gathered on the left. The fi eld was ringed with spectators, and the noonday sun beat down mercilessly, making the air heavy and still.
    Havgan’s byrnie of interwoven metal covered his body down to mid-thigh, and beneath it his tunic and breeches clung to him like a second skin. His plain helm was like any other warrior’s—fashioned of metal with the tiny