Read Online Chronicles of Logos Quest For the Kingdom Parts IV, V, VI, and VII Revised With Index (Quest For the Kingdom Set) by L. M. Roth - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: L. M. Roth
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from, Melisande?”
Melisande
bristled and answered indirectly.
“And where are you from? Your voice does not have the same accents as the rest of the
villagers. You are not from Eirinia yourself, are you, brother?”
Cort shook his
head.
“No, I am not
from Eirinia, but from Trekur Lende far to the north.”
“Trekur
Lende!” Melisande exclaimed as her eyes widened inexplicably, but quickly recovered
herself. “That is, I mean to say, really? From that far away?”
“Have you
heard of Trekur Lende?” Cort asked her with a quizzical look.
“Yes, I
believe I have heard of it in passing, somewhere. Is it not a wild country full
of untamed barbarians?”
Cort laughed.
“I have not
heard myself called such in years! Not since Felix…” his voice trailed away and
he gazed off into the distance.
Then he turned
back to Melisande.
They looked
one another fully in the eye, and then she spoke.
“How did you
come to Eirinia from Trekur Lende, Cort? It is a long journey, and not one that
most people would take I am sure. For what could have brought you here, to a
land that many would not find hospitable?”
“They would
not find Trekur Lende any more hospitable I am certain!” Cort laughed.
“However, I came here with my father more than twenty years ago. The land
itself was incidental in our journey, but we stayed when he married Judoc.”
Melisande
started, and then paled as though she had received a jolt of surprise.
“Judoc is not
your mother then? You came here with Dag? From Trekur Lende? Is your real
mother dead?” and her voice rose until it cracked as she questioned him.
Cort narrowed
his eyes and stared at her intently.
“No, my mother
is not dead. And Dag is not my father, really. He adopted me after I ran away
from home. My parents know this; they know I am with him.”
Melisande drew
her breath in sharply and grew paler still.
“Oh!” she whispered.
She glanced
from Cort to Brenus in apparent dismay.
“What have I
done?” she murmured under her breath.
Yet they both
heard, and wondered at her words.
Just then
Judoc came over to the group. She laughed as she took hold of Melisande’s hand.
“Come, Melisande.
The maids are wondering when you will throw the bridal favor. They are all
eager to see who shall wed next!”
Brenus was
startled to hear the giggles emanating from the waiting maidens. So intent was
he on watching his wife and his brother that he was oblivious to all else
around him. Now he noted the prevailing note of gaiety, the smell of the peat
fire that warmed the room from the chill of the autumn dusk, the spicy apple
aroma of the hot punch that was passed round in celebration.
Melisande went
with Judoc docilely. In fact, Brenus thought, she seemed rather relieved. She
greeted the assembled maidens with a dazzling smile and they clustered in a
circle around her like attendants on a young queen.
He turned back
to Cort, who looked after Melisande with a puzzled frown furrowing his
forehead.
“Who is this
bride of yours, Brenus? And why did she suddenly seem so dismayed?”
Brenus was as
mystified as his brother.
“I do not
know, Cort. I am as much in the dark as you are.”
Cort still
stared at Melisande with a boring gaze, as if intent on baring the secrets of
her soul.
“Well, you
should have discovered before taking her to wife, brother. For no good will
come of this marriage; that I warrant!”
And Cort did
not wait for his response, but stalked out of the hut and into the glooming
twilight.
Chapter
VIII
School In Solone
A gentle
breeze was blowing in Solone. It stirred the leaves of a majestic acacia tree
that crowned the top of the hill. How long it had stood there no one was
certain. It had always stood there, so far as anyone knew, and would stand
there until the end of time.
Its antiquity
had much in common with the odd little house that was the only visible invasion
of man upon the hilltop. Cut into the rock itself it was, surrounded by rocks
on
Melisande
bristled and answered indirectly.
“And where are you from? Your voice does not have the same accents as the rest of the
villagers. You are not from Eirinia yourself, are you, brother?”
Cort shook his
head.
“No, I am not
from Eirinia, but from Trekur Lende far to the north.”
“Trekur
Lende!” Melisande exclaimed as her eyes widened inexplicably, but quickly recovered
herself. “That is, I mean to say, really? From that far away?”
“Have you
heard of Trekur Lende?” Cort asked her with a quizzical look.
“Yes, I
believe I have heard of it in passing, somewhere. Is it not a wild country full
of untamed barbarians?”
Cort laughed.
“I have not
heard myself called such in years! Not since Felix…” his voice trailed away and
he gazed off into the distance.
Then he turned
back to Melisande.
They looked
one another fully in the eye, and then she spoke.
“How did you
come to Eirinia from Trekur Lende, Cort? It is a long journey, and not one that
most people would take I am sure. For what could have brought you here, to a
land that many would not find hospitable?”
“They would
not find Trekur Lende any more hospitable I am certain!” Cort laughed.
“However, I came here with my father more than twenty years ago. The land
itself was incidental in our journey, but we stayed when he married Judoc.”
Melisande
started, and then paled as though she had received a jolt of surprise.
“Judoc is not
your mother then? You came here with Dag? From Trekur Lende? Is your real
mother dead?” and her voice rose until it cracked as she questioned him.
Cort narrowed
his eyes and stared at her intently.
“No, my mother
is not dead. And Dag is not my father, really. He adopted me after I ran away
from home. My parents know this; they know I am with him.”
Melisande drew
her breath in sharply and grew paler still.
“Oh!” she whispered.
She glanced
from Cort to Brenus in apparent dismay.
“What have I
done?” she murmured under her breath.
Yet they both
heard, and wondered at her words.
Just then
Judoc came over to the group. She laughed as she took hold of Melisande’s hand.
“Come, Melisande.
The maids are wondering when you will throw the bridal favor. They are all
eager to see who shall wed next!”
Brenus was
startled to hear the giggles emanating from the waiting maidens. So intent was
he on watching his wife and his brother that he was oblivious to all else
around him. Now he noted the prevailing note of gaiety, the smell of the peat
fire that warmed the room from the chill of the autumn dusk, the spicy apple
aroma of the hot punch that was passed round in celebration.
Melisande went
with Judoc docilely. In fact, Brenus thought, she seemed rather relieved. She
greeted the assembled maidens with a dazzling smile and they clustered in a
circle around her like attendants on a young queen.
He turned back
to Cort, who looked after Melisande with a puzzled frown furrowing his
forehead.
“Who is this
bride of yours, Brenus? And why did she suddenly seem so dismayed?”
Brenus was as
mystified as his brother.
“I do not
know, Cort. I am as much in the dark as you are.”
Cort still
stared at Melisande with a boring gaze, as if intent on baring the secrets of
her soul.
“Well, you
should have discovered before taking her to wife, brother. For no good will
come of this marriage; that I warrant!”
And Cort did
not wait for his response, but stalked out of the hut and into the glooming
twilight.
Chapter
VIII
School In Solone
A gentle
breeze was blowing in Solone. It stirred the leaves of a majestic acacia tree
that crowned the top of the hill. How long it had stood there no one was
certain. It had always stood there, so far as anyone knew, and would stand
there until the end of time.
Its antiquity
had much in common with the odd little house that was the only visible invasion
of man upon the hilltop. Cut into the rock itself it was, surrounded by rocks
on
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