Madbond by Nancy Springer Read Free Book Online

skull. The Fanged Horse king smiled in his sooty-black beard, and even my own king of the Red Hart stirred like a hawk rousing to stoop on its prey. The young fools who ruled the Herders and the Seal Kindred lifted their chins, on their mettle. Only the female king of the Otter looked uneasy, for she had started this game, and it had gone far beyond what she had wanted or expected.
    And Sakeema, gazing at me—his face did not move, but tears ran down it like freshets down the mountains in the springtime. Tears of love and joy, and not because I had saved him, forsooth. There was no way of saving him. Somehow, even with his hands bound, he had saved me.
    I had intended to demand his right to lay his case before the people. Though likely, led by their jealous kings they would have condemned him as well.… It did not matter. Nothing mattered but that Sakeema spoke to me with glowing eyes.
    â€œGo, live,” he said, his voice so low it was a breath, a whisper, like woodland breeze. “Have many children. And because you have come to me … I give you this promise, that I will come to you when you need me worst.”
    Already his enemies, the six, had called for guards. I had to leave his side or die. So I sprang away, my heart breaking, and fled through the guards, and escaped.
    They killed him by the cruel ways while I lay in hiding on the mountainside. And when they let his body be brought out at last, I went with the others to look on it, stood by the bier with the creatures, the foxes, the wolves and wild dogs, the deer, for few people dared to come there. And in my grief it seemed to me that I would never need him more than then. Like a madman I shouted his name aloud to the wind.
    â€œSakeema!”
    There was no answer.
    â€œSakeema!”
    Nothing but the sighing of the wind.
    â€œSakeema!”
    Again and again I called for him, with sobs that roared in my chest. He was gone, gone, my god was gone and did not heed my cry. I felt bereft, betrayed, fit to die with sorrow, and I was lying on hard ground, weeping and shouting his name.…
    Someone shaking me. I looked up, blinking. A man, bending over me, his face darkened and unseen against a white and shining scarrow-sky, his head banded in that glory … My heart leaped like a courting deer.
    â€œArcher? Are you all right?”
    I groaned and closed my eyes in disgust. It was only Kor.
    Sakeema, Sakeema, Sakeema, he-whom-all-we-seek … The dream had been so bright, so true, and now it was leaving me. I had said … I had said I would search for him unto the end of the world. If he had not yet come back to me, I must find him.… But I could not remember his face!
    Though I clenched my jaw and pressed my palms against my eyes, I could not remember his face. With a whispered curse of fury I flung myself away from Kor and pounded the rocky ground with my fist.
    â€œYou were calling on Sakeema,” Kor explained softly. “You sounded as if you were in agony. Archer, what did you see?”
    Giving it up, beyond words, I opened my eyes to look at him again. Over his head, between him and sky, a speeding shadow passed. All the small birds in the seaside forest fell suddenly silent, cowering until the hawk was gone.
    â€œTalu,” I said suddenly, a word in the old language of my people, from the time before Sakeema. I felt weary but blessed. A name had come from my god, a name very fitting for the mare.
    Kor made a wordless noise of inquiry. I caught hold of him and stiffly rose.
    â€œHarrier,” I explained. “Hellkite.” A drab bird, ugly even, but swift and fierce.
    â€œIt suits her,” Kor agreed.
    I wobbled when I turned to salute the mare. “Talu,” I told her, “good night.” And she merely glanced at me, without striking.
    Korridun had to support me as I walked. I went with him into his sea-carved home and ate what he gave me and slept in my chamber there. But my dreams were full