Winterbirth by Brian Ruckley Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brian Ruckley
found Renairan's wife and daughter closing upon him as he headed for the door, and he had to resist a powerful urge to spring forwards and make a dash for the sanctuary of his bedchamber. As the meal was noisily resumed behind them, Orisian was held by Carienna's cheerful, yet somehow insistent, gaze.
'Such a shame that we did not have a proper chance to speak,' she said, 'but you must spare a word for my daughter Lynna before you retire.'
She eased the young girl forwards.
'Lynna!' prompted Carienna, and the somewhat flustered girl cleared her throat.
'It was a very great pleasure to meet you, master Orisian,' she said, giving him a delicate smile and a practised curtsey.
'Ah,' said Orisian.
'Lynna is almost fifteen,' said Carienna in a voice that spilled implications from its edges like honey from an over-full beescomb.
'Really,' said Orisian, 'I'm . . .' He realised that he had forgotten how old he was.
'Sixteen, I believe,' said Carienna happily.
It took Orisian a while to find a kind form of words to take his leave. Rothe was waiting outside his room. The shieldman smiled sympathetically when Orisian told him what had happened.
'Sixteen is a perilous age for the only available man in the Thane's family.'
Kylane was quiet the next morning, nursing the after-effects of drink and what had evidently been a costly gaming session with members of the harbourmaster's household. Rothe, cheered by the prospect of being back at Kolgias by nightfall, and perhaps by his comrade's misfortune, was livelier. He and Orisian talked happily of hunting, of Croesan and of the growing grandeur of Anduran as they passed along Glasbridge's streets, over the broad river running through its heart and out through the western gate of the town.
They followed the stone-surfaced track along the southern shore of the Glas estuary. This was a well-populated stretch, with many farmhouses and hamlets lining the way. Little watermills, their wheels creaking round, stood astride the streams flowing down to the sea. Here and there small fishing boats were drawn up on the rocks. At one roadside house they stopped to buy some oatcakes and goat's cheese, and ate them as they rode onwards. Kylane's mood lifted a little, his spirits renewed by the food.
He recounted tales, harvested over dice the night before, of bawdy goings-on in the harbourmaster's house.
In the late afternoon they rounded a small headland and came within sight of Kolgias. The town lay on the far shore of a shallow bay studded with rocky islets, closely hemmed in by the forest. Castle Kolgias stood tall on its isle a hundred yards offshore: a weathered stone bastion so old that it seemed as much a part of the natural landscape as the rocks breaking waves beneath its walls. The tide was out, so the narrow causeway running from the town to the castle was exposed. They could see a small cart moving along it, carrying firewood to feed the castle's hearths. A broad smile came to Orisian's face.
'A race back!' he cried, and kicked his horse into a headlong gallop along the track.
He heard Rothe's exasperated cry, and then the pounding of hoofs as the two shieldmen came rushing after him. The dash around the curving shore did not take long, but the horses were blowing hard as they slowed at the edge of Kolgias.
The main street and most of the little tracks that ran off on either side were busy. Kolgias always sucked people in at Winterbirth, as surely as a full-laden fishing boat drew gulls. The stalls around the edge of the market square were doing a roaring trade in everything from candles to snowboots, and so much money changing hands had created an infectious air of good humour. Some of the stallholders called out and waved as Orisian went by.
The area around the cairn in the heart of the square, by contrast, was almost empty, with only a screaming gang of children chasing one another round and round the small tower of stones. The monument was a memorial to the Battle of
'Such a shame that we did not have a proper chance to speak,' she said, 'but you must spare a word for my daughter Lynna before you retire.'
She eased the young girl forwards.
'Lynna!' prompted Carienna, and the somewhat flustered girl cleared her throat.
'It was a very great pleasure to meet you, master Orisian,' she said, giving him a delicate smile and a practised curtsey.
'Ah,' said Orisian.
'Lynna is almost fifteen,' said Carienna in a voice that spilled implications from its edges like honey from an over-full beescomb.
'Really,' said Orisian, 'I'm . . .' He realised that he had forgotten how old he was.
'Sixteen, I believe,' said Carienna happily.
It took Orisian a while to find a kind form of words to take his leave. Rothe was waiting outside his room. The shieldman smiled sympathetically when Orisian told him what had happened.
'Sixteen is a perilous age for the only available man in the Thane's family.'
Kylane was quiet the next morning, nursing the after-effects of drink and what had evidently been a costly gaming session with members of the harbourmaster's household. Rothe, cheered by the prospect of being back at Kolgias by nightfall, and perhaps by his comrade's misfortune, was livelier. He and Orisian talked happily of hunting, of Croesan and of the growing grandeur of Anduran as they passed along Glasbridge's streets, over the broad river running through its heart and out through the western gate of the town.
They followed the stone-surfaced track along the southern shore of the Glas estuary. This was a well-populated stretch, with many farmhouses and hamlets lining the way. Little watermills, their wheels creaking round, stood astride the streams flowing down to the sea. Here and there small fishing boats were drawn up on the rocks. At one roadside house they stopped to buy some oatcakes and goat's cheese, and ate them as they rode onwards. Kylane's mood lifted a little, his spirits renewed by the food.
He recounted tales, harvested over dice the night before, of bawdy goings-on in the harbourmaster's house.
In the late afternoon they rounded a small headland and came within sight of Kolgias. The town lay on the far shore of a shallow bay studded with rocky islets, closely hemmed in by the forest. Castle Kolgias stood tall on its isle a hundred yards offshore: a weathered stone bastion so old that it seemed as much a part of the natural landscape as the rocks breaking waves beneath its walls. The tide was out, so the narrow causeway running from the town to the castle was exposed. They could see a small cart moving along it, carrying firewood to feed the castle's hearths. A broad smile came to Orisian's face.
'A race back!' he cried, and kicked his horse into a headlong gallop along the track.
He heard Rothe's exasperated cry, and then the pounding of hoofs as the two shieldmen came rushing after him. The dash around the curving shore did not take long, but the horses were blowing hard as they slowed at the edge of Kolgias.
The main street and most of the little tracks that ran off on either side were busy. Kolgias always sucked people in at Winterbirth, as surely as a full-laden fishing boat drew gulls. The stalls around the edge of the market square were doing a roaring trade in everything from candles to snowboots, and so much money changing hands had created an infectious air of good humour. Some of the stallholders called out and waved as Orisian went by.
The area around the cairn in the heart of the square, by contrast, was almost empty, with only a screaming gang of children chasing one another round and round the small tower of stones. The monument was a memorial to the Battle of
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