Read Online Crystal Rose by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff
Ads: Link
Grasping Airleas’s
forearms, she looked right into his amber eyes and said, “Airleas Malcuim, how
can you think of venging here ?
There’s more importful things than your Malcuim pride. She’s brought you here
to teach you how to be the Meri’s own
Cyne. Learning, tha’s your task, not
risking all to be your own hero. Listen to Taminy, Airleas. Don’t listen to
your proudful voices.”
“But it’s not fair ,
Gwynet! It’s not fair that my father is dead and my mother is forced to run
away and live in this poor, cold, hateful place. Meanwhile, the man that put
her here roosts his behind on my father’s throne—on my throne.”
“Airleas, your father betrayed Taminy.” Gwynet was surprised
to hear those harsh words leave her lips.
Her companion seemed equally amazed. “No, it was Feich. He
betrayed them both. He used my
father.”
“It comes to the same end, so there’s no use you rewriting
the tell. We’re here and Feich is there and right now, tha’s as should be.”
Airleas glanced away again to the window. “You don’t
understand. You can’t understand.”
Gwynet gazed at him for a moment more, then pulled her hands
away and levered herself out of the window embrasure.
“I’m hungry. I’m going down to refectory and get my dinner.”
She turned on her heel and walked away down the right hand
corridor without once looking back.
oOo
The atmosphere in Taminy’s audience chamber was somber.
Somber, too, the hardened face of The Claeg as he gave his report to Taminy and
the Ren Catahn.
“Feich has not yet set himself before the Stone and knows he
dares not while Airleas lives. He talks of his duty to the Malcuim and seeks allies
now among the Houses. Still, I’ve no doubt the Throne is all he thinks about.”
Seated beside his uncle, Saefren Claeg watched Taminy digest
his uncle’s tell, his eyes never leaving her face. She always surprised him;
seeming so young, looking so serene, speaking as if she knew the inside of
everyone’s head. He was always struck with the delicacy of her.
A woman like that
should waste away and die up here ,he
thought, yet she thrives .
There she sat on her couch wearing, of all things, a youth’s
breeches, twyla shirt, and long leather vest, her nearly white hair bound into
a fat plait that hung over one shoulder.
“Most of the Houses are indecisive, my Lady,” Iobert Claeg
continued. “They wait for signs, for portents, for intelligence about you and
The Malcuim. I’ve spoken, myself, to the Gilleas and the Jura. Both Houses
pledged themselves to the Meri’s service, but they sought surety, Lady, that
your service and Hers were one and the same.”
“Aye,” added Saefren, “they grilled Uncle long and
thoroughly—and their own Chieftains and elders as well.”
“And?” asked Catahn, glowering. The Hillwild Ren seemed
edgy—like a cat too near water. But then, he always seemed on the verge of
leaping or roaring.
Uncle Iobert smiled. It was rumored he never smiled, but the
truth was his smiles were simply lost beneath the steely coils of his facial
hair.
He turned his eyes to Taminy. “They are yours, Osmaer. And I
think, too, we may count on the Cuillean and the Graegam. I’ll make certain of
them on our trek westward. But the others . . .” He shrugged eloquently. “They
must be courted before they can be counted.”
“Damn the fickleness of the animal!” swore Catahn. He pushed
out of his chair and paced around the room beyond the hearthside circle. “Did I
not hear the Chieftains of these so-called noble Houses swear fealty to Taminy-Osmaer in the Great Hall at Mertuile? They heard
her claims and proofs, saw her miracles—”
“Miracles,” said Taminy quietly from her couch, “are
transient things. Like dreams, they seem vivid at first flush, then fade to
translucence.”
“Aye,” agreed The Claeg, “there is that. And, too, what a
Chief may pledge, his elder kinsman have a right to challenge. Many of those
elders
forearms, she looked right into his amber eyes and said, “Airleas Malcuim, how
can you think of venging here ?
There’s more importful things than your Malcuim pride. She’s brought you here
to teach you how to be the Meri’s own
Cyne. Learning, tha’s your task, not
risking all to be your own hero. Listen to Taminy, Airleas. Don’t listen to
your proudful voices.”
“But it’s not fair ,
Gwynet! It’s not fair that my father is dead and my mother is forced to run
away and live in this poor, cold, hateful place. Meanwhile, the man that put
her here roosts his behind on my father’s throne—on my throne.”
“Airleas, your father betrayed Taminy.” Gwynet was surprised
to hear those harsh words leave her lips.
Her companion seemed equally amazed. “No, it was Feich. He
betrayed them both. He used my
father.”
“It comes to the same end, so there’s no use you rewriting
the tell. We’re here and Feich is there and right now, tha’s as should be.”
Airleas glanced away again to the window. “You don’t
understand. You can’t understand.”
Gwynet gazed at him for a moment more, then pulled her hands
away and levered herself out of the window embrasure.
“I’m hungry. I’m going down to refectory and get my dinner.”
She turned on her heel and walked away down the right hand
corridor without once looking back.
oOo
The atmosphere in Taminy’s audience chamber was somber.
Somber, too, the hardened face of The Claeg as he gave his report to Taminy and
the Ren Catahn.
“Feich has not yet set himself before the Stone and knows he
dares not while Airleas lives. He talks of his duty to the Malcuim and seeks allies
now among the Houses. Still, I’ve no doubt the Throne is all he thinks about.”
Seated beside his uncle, Saefren Claeg watched Taminy digest
his uncle’s tell, his eyes never leaving her face. She always surprised him;
seeming so young, looking so serene, speaking as if she knew the inside of
everyone’s head. He was always struck with the delicacy of her.
A woman like that
should waste away and die up here ,he
thought, yet she thrives .
There she sat on her couch wearing, of all things, a youth’s
breeches, twyla shirt, and long leather vest, her nearly white hair bound into
a fat plait that hung over one shoulder.
“Most of the Houses are indecisive, my Lady,” Iobert Claeg
continued. “They wait for signs, for portents, for intelligence about you and
The Malcuim. I’ve spoken, myself, to the Gilleas and the Jura. Both Houses
pledged themselves to the Meri’s service, but they sought surety, Lady, that
your service and Hers were one and the same.”
“Aye,” added Saefren, “they grilled Uncle long and
thoroughly—and their own Chieftains and elders as well.”
“And?” asked Catahn, glowering. The Hillwild Ren seemed
edgy—like a cat too near water. But then, he always seemed on the verge of
leaping or roaring.
Uncle Iobert smiled. It was rumored he never smiled, but the
truth was his smiles were simply lost beneath the steely coils of his facial
hair.
He turned his eyes to Taminy. “They are yours, Osmaer. And I
think, too, we may count on the Cuillean and the Graegam. I’ll make certain of
them on our trek westward. But the others . . .” He shrugged eloquently. “They
must be courted before they can be counted.”
“Damn the fickleness of the animal!” swore Catahn. He pushed
out of his chair and paced around the room beyond the hearthside circle. “Did I
not hear the Chieftains of these so-called noble Houses swear fealty to Taminy-Osmaer in the Great Hall at Mertuile? They heard
her claims and proofs, saw her miracles—”
“Miracles,” said Taminy quietly from her couch, “are
transient things. Like dreams, they seem vivid at first flush, then fade to
translucence.”
“Aye,” agreed The Claeg, “there is that. And, too, what a
Chief may pledge, his elder kinsman have a right to challenge. Many of those
elders
Similar Books
