Land of the Silver Dragon by Alys Clare Read Free Book Online Page A

aware of it.
    Spring was getting into its stride. The worst of the various weather-related sicknesses was over, and soon I should start thinking about returning to my studies with Gurdyman. A part of me longed to be back with him in the twisty-turny house in Cambridge, engrossed in the fascinating things he was teaching me and with the lively, vibrant town all around me. But such thoughts seemed disloyal to my family, especially under the current circumstances, so I tried to suppress them.
    We were just clearing up for the day when there came the sound of running footsteps on the path leading up to the door. There was a perfunctory knock, then the door was flung open and my cousin Morcar burst into the house.
    There was no need for even the swiftest glance at his poor, haggard face to know that something terrible had happened. Distress radiated out of him, reaching me with such force that I staggered back. Edild ran to him, took his hands in hers and, on a huge sob, he cried, ‘My mother’s dead!’
    Instinctively, Morcar had come first to Edild, his mother Alvela’s twin. But Alvela had had other siblings, and one of them was my father. Even as Edild led Morcar over to the bench beside the hearth and gently persuaded him to sit, I gathered up my shawl and ran across the village to my family home. By the time Morcar was ready to tell us what had happened, he had the meagre comfort of his uncle’s, his aunt’s and his cousin’s presence while he related his tale.
    â€˜I’d been working on a job some way from home,’ he began. Morcar is a flint knapper. His and Alvela’s neat little house is up in the Breckland. ‘I finished off this morning, sooner than I’d reckoned, and I headed home with coins in my purse, hoping to surprise Mother.’ Tears filled his eyes. ‘She was lying there, amid the wreck of all the bits and bobs she’d cared for so well. They didn’t amount to much, but she loved them.’ He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. He is by nature a reserved, taciturn man, and to see him torn apart by his grief was hard to bear. Alvela had doted on him, and I had always assumed he’d found her fussing something of a trial. Watching him now it was clear that, even were that true, he’d loved her deeply.
    He raised his wet face and looked at my father, then at Edild. ‘Whoever broke in beat her, very badly,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘Her poor face was ...’ But he couldn’t bring himself to tell us. He waved a hand vaguely in my father’s direction, shaking his head in anguish.
    â€˜Never mind that now,’ Edild said gently. ‘Do not distress yourself further by making yourself think of it.’
    â€˜But why did they hurt her?’ Morcar asked, his brow creased in a perplexed frown. ‘She was a small woman, and not strong. Once he’d broken in, he could have taken all he wanted and she wouldn’t have been able to stop him.’
    â€˜
He?
’ my father asked.
    Morcar glanced at him. ‘Yes. Great big fellow, bearded, built like an ox.’
    â€˜Somebody saw him? Edild demanded.
    â€˜Yes, yes, a couple of our neighbours had heard the commotion and gone to see what was up. The man ran off just as they arrived.’ He paused. ‘They found Mother lying there, but it was too late to help her. She was already dead.’ He dropped his face into his hands again.
    I saw my father and my aunt exchange a glance. Then my father looked at me. I understood. ‘It’s as if her killer had been trying to make her tell him something,’ I whispered, the words barely more than a breath.
    My father heard. His expression grim, he nodded.
    Morcar must have heard, too. Perhaps – probably – he had already arrived at the same conclusion. ‘I don’t know what he thought she could tell him!’ he cried, tears running down his face. ‘If he