Read Online Crucible by Mercedes Lackey - Free Book Online Page A

and they waited patiently as the headman limped over and climbed into his two-wheeled cart, pulled by a shaggy pony. The cart creaked and groaned under his weight, the wheels shifting, causing the traces to jerk the pony back. But the animal stood calmly.
    â€œHup, hup,” Ondon called as he settled on the seat, and they all began heading down the wide path to the main road.
    Cera knew she’d been discourteous, so she urged her mule up beside the cart. “I meant no offence, Ondon.”
    â€œI’ll take none,” he replied, and then chuckled. “Fact is, I can see it from your point of view. ‘Mighty strange ways in Valdemar’, eh? Isn’t that the saying?”
    She laughed as well, and nodded. “But while strange to me, it’s good to know. I will ask Althelnor to explain more of this idea of showing no favoritism,” Cera said. “You have been headman of your village for how long?”
    With that, she settled in as Ondon started to talk about his position and the people of his village. She knew full well that Gareth was probably rolling his eyes ahead of them, but there was much to be learned in listening. A bit of history, a hint of gossip, the whisper of problems that might be developing all lay under his words.
    â€œOne thing, Lady, my village needs more than provisions,” Ondon said.
    â€œTrade?” Cera guessed.
    â€œNo, no, we are good there for now, although it’s good to grow along those lines,” Ondon shifted in his seat. “No, its more strong backs and willing hands we need,able-bodied and not afraid of work. I’ve many a widow lost her men-folk in the wars. Young ones, like Gareth there, he’ll do for the future. But now’s the need.”
    Ondon waved his hand at the fields on either side of the road. “We were able to glean this fall, pull in enough to keep body and soul together, but come spring we’ll need backs to break the land, plant the seeds, and tend the herds in the birthing season.” Ondon looked at her. “Maybe you know men in Rethwellan who might make a fresh start?”
    â€œPerhaps,” Cera mused. “I hadn’t thought of that possibility.” Her father might know of those willing to work for a chance to improve themselves in a new land. She could have them come to the manor to be vetted.
    Ondon chuckled, giving her a sly look. “Well, word’s also about that the youngest son of Lord Cition was thinking of comin’ a’wooing the Lady of Sandbriar.”
    Cera stiffened in her saddle.
    â€œHeadman Ondon,” Alena scolded.
    â€œEh, forgive an old man—” Ondon’s face flushed up. “But Sandbriar does need an heir, Lady.”
    â€œI would trust no one will come courting,” Cera said coolly. “I am still in mourning for my late Lord Sinmonkelrath.” She forced herself not to glance back at Alena, not to betray any hint that her late husband had been abusive, cruel, and a traitor to the Queen. Not to show her gratitude for his demise in the “hunting accident.”
    â€œA year and a day, Headman.”
    â€œOf course, Lady Ceraratha.” Ondon’s voice was subdued.
    â€œBesides.” Cera smiled gently. “We’ve other concerns for now. Now, what of your supply of seed for the spring?”
    Their horses held to a walk as the fall leaves settled on the road around them. The air was still warm from the sunlight that flickered down through the trees.
    On the border with Karse, Sandbriar’s sparse hills held their own rugged beauty. But here, within thesewoods more typical of the rest of Valdemar, it held a loveliness more familiar to her. A true sense of home.
    As they rode, Ondon continued speaking of his village and its people. This was a farming community, feeding themselves and selling their largesse to bigger villages nearby.
    â€œNot that there’s been much to sell this year.” Ondon shook his