Fire Hawk by Justine Dare Justine Davis Read Free Book Online

harshness.”
    “And it hardly seems fair to turn her away so coldly, does it?”
    “What does Kane care of fairness?”
    Tal smiled suddenly. “When you begin to speak of yourself as if you were someone else, I know you have reached the end of your arguments.”
    Kane’s mouth twisted. “What would you have me do?”
    “Whatever you can live with, my friend.”
    IT WAS LUCKY, Jenna thought, that roasting a pheasant over a fire was a simple task; preparing food had never been a talent of hers. She knew the rudiments of the task and had managed to find some herbs with which to rub the bird’s skin, and some edible tubers to bake in the coals, but even that had taxed her skills. Justus had been the adventurous one when it came to that, always trying new foodstuffs, delighting when they met with accolades, and laughing good-naturedly at the rare failures that made his guests discreetly fill up on large chunks of bread.
    It swept over her like the wind rushing down from Snowcap. She would never hear that laugh again, just as she would never feel the warm comfort of her mother’s embrace. Nor would she see the antics of Jack the miller, whose silly faces had made the children laugh, nor would she hear Kayla’s beautiful voice raised in song.
    She resisted the urge to call their names, the seemingly endless list of the dead. But it took all her fragile strength, and she had none left to stop the shudders that gripped her. She refused to weep, but she could not stop the shaking. She told herself it did not matter, there was no one here to see, no fierce warrior who would no doubt glare in disgust at her weakness. And perhaps there would not be; he had been gone a very long time. Perhaps her long, harsh journey had been for naught, and she was truly defeated before she began.
    Perhaps it was a fruitless effort already. Hawk Glade could well have been overrun by now, its protection broken through at last, although the warlord Druas seemed content for the moment with weekly raids on anything and anyone found moving outside the glade, doubtless to weaken them for an easy kill. Even if she were to survive the journey home, there might be no home still standing when she arrived. And if she returned empty-handed, that would be the end result anyway, and she would have the deaths of an entire people on her conscience. She would not even be able to face her own inevitable death with dignity, not with the shadow of having to answer for her failure hovering.
    She hated this feeling, of having her fate in another’s hands. She’d hated it when the attacks had begun, and they’d realized they were at the mercy of the warlord. And she hated it even more now, when she could do nothing but helplessly wait for a man who might never return, and who might not even listen to her if he did.
    But most of all she hated this sense of desperation. And the more time that passed, the deeper it became, until she felt she was going to fly apart.
    She leapt to her feet, wobbling as her ankle protested.
    “It will never heal if you don’t stay off of it.”
    She stifled a yelp and spun around, barely remembering not to do it on her injured side.
    “It is not fair,” she muttered, “that any man your size can move so quietly.”
    “I’m surprised you did not hear the rumbling of my stomach.”
    Jenna drew back, startled not so much by his words as by the wry glint of humor she thought she saw in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure.
    “I . . . I hope you’re not angry, I found the bird . . .”
    “Angry? At eating something I have not had to cook myself? Unlikely.”
    Jenna couldn’t help staring at him. What had happened to the laconic, almost curt man who had left here this morning? Hope surged in her, but she couldn’t help being a little suspicious of the change.
    He said no more, but ate his portion of the meal with a certain relish that made her feel oddly pleased. When it was done, she sat in silence for a