Read Online 0857664360 by Susan Murray - Free Book Online

children. And things like that. It’s complicated.” She fixed him with a serious gaze. “I don’t ever want to get married.”
    “I told him you’d say that.” Tresilian picked up another pebble, twisting it about in his hand. “He said it’s our royal duty.”
    “I don’t care if it is.” She sat back against the tree again. “I want to travel to new places, and sail across the sea.”
    “We could do things like that once we’re married. It would be fun.”
    “I still don’t want to.”
    “I thought I was your best friend?”
    “You are. But most people don’t marry their best friends.”
    “We’re not most people. We’re royal.”
    Alwenna gathered a handful of fallen blossom. “I never asked to be.” She set about shredding each petal, one by one.
    A gust of wind lifted the fallen blossom from the ground and sent it spinning about her, faster and faster until she could see nothing beyond it.
    “You were always such an angry girl.” Tresilian’s voice, the adult voice she was accustomed to hearing.
    Alwenna spun round, trying to find him. She thought she saw a shape through the whirling petals, but the cloud grew thicker and spun faster until she became dizzy.
    “I used to think it was my fault. But I’ve kept my promise. You’ll get to cross the sea soon enough.” Tresilian coughed, a guttural, all-consuming sound that made her shudder. “I didn’t think it would be… like this. But you’ll see.” He dragged in another pained breath, which rattled in his throat. “This parting won’t be for long.”
    Alwenna tried to speak, to call him back, but no sound emerged from her mouth. When she tried to reach out her limbs were leaden, unresponsive.
    “Lady Alwenna, can you hear me?” The voice sounded from somewhere in the darkness. Not Tresilian’s this time, but another man’s.
    She opened her eyes and the blur before her resolved into a face. Weaver.
    “Are you hurt, my lady?” He helped her sit up.
    “No. I’m fine. But… Tresilian spoke to me.”
    “You need to rest. I’ve been pushing you too hard.”
    “I was dreaming, and then he spoke to me. Except it wasn’t a dream any more. He was in pain.” She shivered.
    “You fainted, that’s all. You need a proper meal inside you and a good night’s sleep.” He began to straighten up.
    Alwenna took hold of his arm. “Weaver, it wasn’t a dream. It’s not the first time something like this has happened.”
    Weaver didn’t recoil immediately, but he might as well have. “You fainted, my lady. There are healers at Vorrahan–”
    “There’s nothing wrong with me.” She clambered to her feet, brushing away his attempts to help.
    “Of course not. That was my very first thought as you keeled over.”
    Alwenna staggered sideways as a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm her. Weaver caught her by the arm and she had no option but to accept his support as they made their way back to the waiting horse in what she hoped was a dignified silence. They were perhaps three paces away from the horse when Weaver froze.
    Some distance down the ridge a rider was approaching. He appeared in no great hurry, but Alwenna’s gut knotted with apprehension all the same: behind him he led a riderless horse. As Alwenna’s dizziness faded she could see the horse looked very much like the one Wynne had been riding when she’d set out alone from their camp.
    The rider was a freemerchant youth. Alwenna recognised his face from the group they’d met in the forest. He spoke to Weaver now in an uneven voice that had only recently broken.
    “My father guessed this might be your horse, with the bridle being fashioned in the northern way.”
    “It is indeed. Where did you come by it?” Weaver ran his hands over the horse’s head and neck, checking for injuries.
    “It came up to us in the forest, the day after we passed you. One stirrup was missing, and the reins were broken. We searched until daylight faded, but could find no trace of your