Read Online Bound by Blood and Sand by Becky Allen - Free Book Online Page A

it seeming to be a completely different kind of writing, nothing he’d ever seen before. That was probably from before the War, maybe even before the Well had been crafted; he knew she wouldn’t be able to read it any more than he could. But she might be able to do something with the rest of it. If she recognized something, it might lead him to the Well’s location.
    “Maybe that one isn’t the best to begin with,” Elan said. “There are some other drawings, here.” He shuffled the pages around, looking for one of the more complete images. There had been shockingly little information about Aredann in any of his father’s books, and Elan had barely had time to copy any of it properly before being sent away. What had been hard to decipher in the originals was all but impossible now, though he finally found one that was more clear: a quickly copied drawing of a garden.
    Lady Shirrad studied it, then looked up, wide-eyed. “Highest, of course I know what this one is. Look.”
    She pointed above his head. He turned to look over his shoulder—and there it was, the same image, the largest of the mosaics hanging on the wall. He bounded to his feet to examine it more closely.
    The mosaic was enormous, some of the tiles as small as his fingertips and others as large as his fist. The wall was opposite the room’s windows, so the tiles themselves had lost some of their vividness, but they still gleamed in the torchlight. It must have been quite a sight when it had first been created, huge and bright, showing a man kneeling in a garden as he planted a flower.
    “My father told me that it’s an image of Lord Aredann himself,” Shirrad explained.
    Elan nodded a little, studying the picture. Aredann had been one of the greatest heroes of the War, a mage whose own brother, Taesann the traitor, had joined the Closest when they’d tried to seize the Well. Taesann had been the Closest’s final mage, and Aredann had eventually been forced to kill him. The estate where Aredann had grown up had been renamed in his honor. The mosaic itself was as tall as Elan, though it was hung above the shelves, with its bottom as high as his ribs. It was set within a green-gray frame with a rough texture.
    “How long has this been here? Has it ever been moved?” Elan asked.
    “Not in my lifetime, Highest,” Shirrad said.
    If it truly was an artifact from right after the War, the era when it had been decided to hide the Well, then it really
might
hold a clue. But if he had the mosaic removed from the wall so he could study it more closely, Desinn would definitely hear about it. Elan would have to explain himself, and at best, Desinn would scoff at his quest to find the Well. More likely, he’d spin it into a tale that would make Elan look worse to his father, attempting to solidify his
own
influence with the Highest. Elan couldn’t afford to appear any worse in his father’s eyes.
    Finally he said, “Lady, we haven’t discussed this much, but when Aredann is abandoned…” She winced but didn’t say anything, so he pressed on. “When we leave, we won’t want to leave anything
this
valuable behind. Can this be taken down from the wall? Cleaned and prepared to move?”
    She didn’t say anything for a long moment, her lip trembling; then she took a deep breath and said, “Of course, Highest.”
    “Thank you,” he said. “Is there anything else you can tell me about it?”
    “Only a little,” Shirrad said. “The garden—well, it’s not as large as it looks up there. The courtyard just isn’t that big.”
    “The courtyard?” he asked. “This is
that
garden?”
    “I know it’s hard to believe,” Lady Shirrad said. “But before the drought, the garden was a wonder to behold—or at least, that’s what my father told me.”
    “You’re
sure
it’s the same garden?”
    “Yes, Highest,” Lady Shirrad snapped. Elan glanced at her again, surprised by the bitterness in her voice, but she recovered herself quickly and gave him