My Swordhand Is Singing by Marcus Sedgwick Read Free Book Online Page B

The horses were tethered, and alone.
    He stared through the pricking darkness at the hut, but could see nothing, could hear nothing but the water. There was light coming from inside, flickering slightly, as if people were moving around.
    Something was wrong. No one ever came to see them, certainly not late at night. He put a foot on the bridge, eyeing the horses as he did so. He didn’t recognize them, but he noticed that strangely they bore no saddles. He turned his attention back to crossing the bridge without making a sound. He succeeded and stole a few hurried paces across the island to the hut, but instead of opening the door and walking straight in as he usually would, he slid close to the wall, crouching nervously beneath the shuttered window.
    He could hear voices.
    He raised himself on his knees, bringing his ear as close to the window as he dared. He knew that he could not be seen from inside, but still something made him desperate to keep hidden.
    Now he could make out words.
    “…you have no choice…”
    A muffled reply. Peter knew it was his father’s voice, but the words were not clear.
    “Once, you would have spoken differently.”
    “You cannot refuse. There is no choice. The Shadow Queen has taken your choice away.”
    The Shadow Queen. Who was his father talking to in there? Now several voices all spoke at once, urgently.
    “…the Shadow Queen is coming.”
    “…more hostages.”
    “…where is it, Tomas?”
    “I don’t have it.”
    “You will agree. You have to understand that.”
    “No!”
    His father again, shouting this time.
    There was silence for a short time, then quieter voices, indistinct but insistent nonetheless.
    Peter was about to risk moving closer, when the door flew open on the far side of the hut. He dropped to the ground and crawled to the corner by Sultan’s stable. Between the cracks in the planks of the stable, he saw four figures leaving, then crossing the bridge.
    The light from the open door shone across the island and the bridge. Its glow was enough for Peter to see the identity of the visitors.
    The Gypsies who had been with Sofia in the village.
     
    12
    Closer
    Agnes closed the door to her mother’s room and leant against the door frame for a moment, her eyes shut, running her hand through her hair. She had lost count of how many times she had been in to check on her through the day, and now the evening was thickening and the long night lay ahead. All day she had been trying to make some sense of her late father’s business. People had come to collect orders that she knew nothing about; there had been arguments. She was exhausted.
    She was still furious with Peter, but deep down she knew that was unfair. He had been trying to help. But he was tactless and certainly not as bold as she would have liked him to be. As she would have liked her future husband to be.
    She blushed as she considered what she had told no one else, not even Peter himself. And he was poor too, she would never have dared tell her father of her desires. A draper’s daughter does not marry a woodcutter’s son.
    Father, however, was gone. Though that was not what her mother said.
    Agnes tried to push that thought away as she busied herself for bed. She slipped out of her clothes and into a nightdress, and began to brush her hair, but her fears would not stay away. Her hands began to tremble. She dropped the hairbrush clumsily on a table by the window, backing away from it uneasily. She knew the window was protected, but that didn’t quell her fear.
    What if Father had been coming back? To Mother, in the night? She did not doubt for a second that it was possible; everyone knew it. Cattle and sheep had been attacked in recent days too. And it was true that her mother did seem to be getting weaker with every night that passed. Weaker, and paler.
    But he would not come in the house tonight, no one and nothing would; she had taken further precautions. There was still tar from St. Andrew’s Eve on