Ironcrown Moon by Julian May Read Free Book Online Page B

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    May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon we’re in this godforsaken spot except Ansel, who brought us here. No one who matters even knows we’re alive! So I say we’re in no danger.
    And today my son and I will leave this dreary steading and walk free for hours along the sunny shore without a cranky old witch dogging our heels.”
    She wrapped the food in a cloth and put it into a basket, together with a long kitchen knife, a leather bottle of mead, and two wooden cups. There would be plenty of good water from freshets trickling down the cliff face. “The only question is, will you accompany Dyfi and me on our holiday, or stay behind and sulk?”
    The maid was hauling on her garments. “It’s not safe, Your Grace! There’s others that could find us here besides magickers. Like that blue fishing vessel that tarried offshore two tennights ago.
    Dobnelu said the crew peered at the steading with a spyglass! The old woman was in a rare tizzy about it. It seems that plain eyesight isn’t hindered by her shielding magic. The fishermen could have seen you out by the byre.”
    “Please God, they had! For I recognized the lugger as one belonging to Vik Waterfall of Northkeep Port, where my own family’s castle lies. And since catching sight of it, I’ve thought of nothing but how we might use such a boat to get away from here.”
    “Oh, no, Your Grace!”
    “Stop calling me that, you stupid creature! The only one here worthy of such an honorific is my son.” She turned away, and her next words came through gritted teeth. “And I’ll see Dyfrig gets the crown he deserves… if I don’t die of vexation and melancholy first, trapped in this loathsome place.”
    The sturdy maidservant persisted in speaking her mind, as was her habit. Rusgann’s fierce loyalty had never equated with submissiveness. “My lady, you owe it to the lad to keep him secure. To obey High Shaman Ansel’s instructions and those of the sea-hag.
    Life here’s boring, I’ll give you that, but Mistress Dobnelu and the shaman know what’s best for you.”
    “Lately, I’ve had my doubts.” Maudrayne stared out the window at the desolate grandeur of the Page 20

    fjord and the high tundra above it. The snow that had blanketed the windswept plateau was finally melted, leaving outcroppings of pink and grey granite and patches of vivid green grass tinged with the purple, yellow, and white of short-lived arctic wildflowers.
    Rusgann sniffed. “I suppose doing housework and taking care of farm animals is a hard life for a highborn lady like you—”
    “You silly thing! That’s not it at all!”
    “Well, what, for pity’s sake?” the maid muttered. “We have a snug place to stay, plenty of food to eat, and magic to keep your enemies at bay.”
    “We’ve been here for four years, Rusgann, hardly ever leaving the stone circle. I have only a small child and you and that senile witch for company, with infrequent visits from Ansel when he can spare us the time. God knows I’m used to northern winters that are eight months long, but not the isolation we have to endure here in this miserable hovel!” Maudrayne gestured in disgust at the modest kitchen, which was neat and clean enough now thanks to her own efforts and those of the maid. “My family’s castle at Northkeep is a cheerful place, full of people. When I lived there we weren’t forced to stay inside during the long winter nights—not even when the Coldlight Army prowled the sky. My brothers and cousins and I played in the snow and went visiting and bathed in the hot springs. There was singing and feasting and games and bards telling wonderful tales. And in summertime we sailed and hunted and fished and gathered berries and went exploring. This wretched steading might as well be a prison. And Ansel won’t even tell me how long we must stay