Delivering Kadlin by Gabrielle Holly Read Free Book Online

became a crushing weight.
    Each evening after supper, the two women would sit quietly on a bench in the yard. Grima would smoke her pipe, and the sweet smell of the smoldering herbs calmed Kadlin.
    On the fifteenth night of her stay at the cottage, Kadlin kicked off her slippers and dug her toes into the cool dirt.
    “I wonder if he’s sailed yet,” she mused.
    Grima blew out a stream of smoke and looked to the heavens. “The moon is waxing. They’ll set sail when it is full in three, maybe four days.”
    Kadlin traced lines in the soil with her toe and tried to conjure up Bjorn’s handsome face.
    The old woman stood suddenly. “Go pull the cloths from the drying line, girl. A storm is coming.”
    Kadlin looked up at the stars glinting in the cloudless sky. “But the night is clear,” she said.
    A moment, later a loud crack of thunder sounded in the west.
    * * * *
    The storm howled outside, and Grima pulled a glowing twig from the hearth to light the oil lamps. By the dim light, she and Kadlin worked together to fold the long strips of dyed cloth.
    When they’d finished, Grima passed the neat stack to Kadlin. “Put these in the basket behind my loom.”
    Kadlin carried the fabric to the back corner of cottage and placed it in a huge basket. She ran her fingers over the tight weave, and when she realized it had been fashioned from willow, she remembered her time with Bjorn under the tree, and a tingle gathered between her legs. She closed her eyes and wished she could feel his touch again.
    A thunderclap shook the cottage and jarred Kadlin from her reverie. When she opened her eyes, she noticed something glinting on a small shelf above the basket. She reached out and touched the cold, smooth surface of a small bowl. She lifted it and was surprised by the weight. It was as slick and shiny as glass, but as heavy as stone.
    “It’s a scrying bowl,” Grima whispered in her ear. Kadlin jumped and the vessel fell from her hand. The old woman caught it before it hit the floor.
    The knot of energy that had spun between Kadlin’s thighs now settled with a sickening twist in her abdomen. “Are you a seer, Grima?”
    The old woman turned without answering and carried the bowl to the center of the cottage. She placed it on the worn table and settled on the bench. “Fetch me the water pitcher and a lamp, girl.”
    Kadlin placed the items in front of Grima and sat down on the opposite bench. Grima tipped the pitcher and filled the bowl. She moved the lamp so it cast a pool of light over the surface of the water. “What would you know, girl?”
    Kadlin wrinkled her brow. “I don’t understand.”
    Grima stared at her. “The bowl would not have found you if you didn’t harbor a question.”
    Kadlin looked down at the scarred tabletop, afraid to voice what was in her heart. After a long pause, Grima cleared her throat, and Kadlin whispered her thought. “When will he return to me?”
    “Have you anything from your man?”
    Kadlin found the long braid that hung above her ear, pulled the amber glass bead from the end and passed it to the old woman. Grima closed it in her fist, shut her eyes and breathed deeply before dropping the bead into the water and placing her palms flat on the table. She bowed over the scrying bowl and sat motionless, staring into the reflective surface.
    The storm raged outside, and the air in the cottage seemed charged as if lightning had struck nearby. The hair on the back of Kadlin’s neck rose, her scalp prickled and her limbs felt heavy as lead. Fear bubbled up from deep inside her chest, and she wanted to tell the old witch to stop, that she didn’t want to know what the future held.
    Before she could form the words, Grima looked up from her divination tool. Something in her gaze was not right. She seemed to look right through Kadlin.
    “If he sails under the jarl’s crest, he will never return.”
    * * * *
    Dawn revealed bits of roof thatch littering the muddy dooryard. The pony twitched