Read Online Dawn Wind by Rosemary Sutcliff - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rosemary Sutcliff
Ads: Link
neck of his tunic when he fell down the steps after Dog. His first instinct was to thrust it back out of sight, muttering that it was not anything in particular. But Regina had shown him the scar on her foot in exchange for his; she had not minded him seeing when she fed the birds—and remembering the wolfish way she had eaten last night, he had the sense to know how much feeding the birds must mean to her—and she had shared the blueness of the tit with him before she let it go. He slipped the thong over his head, and held it out to her. ‘It was my father’s ring. It is mine now.’
The light of the flames caught the flawed emerald and it blazed into a flake of green fire between his fingers; and she leaned towards it with a little gasp, her dirty hand darting out to take it. ‘You must have been very rich!’ she said, and her fingers suddenly looked like little brown claws. He had not thought of his father’s ring as being valuable, only as being precious.
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s the only jewel we ever had; and look, it is flawed … There was just the farm, and it was all we could do to keep the roof on the byres.’
‘Farm? You had a farm all of your own? Where was that?’
‘Over that way, maybe a day’s march.’ He jerked his head towards the south-eastern corner of the little room.
Regina glanced in the same direction, as though she expected to see the farm in the shadows beyond the firelight. ‘The Saxons came that way,’ she said after a moment.
‘I know,’ Owain said, staring at the hare. He was thinking of the burnt-out farms that he had passed two days ago. He had been careful not to think of his own farm ever since. He knew now that he would never go back to see what the Saxons had left.
Regina was turning the ring between her fingers, her head bent over it. ‘There’s a queer fish-thing carved on it. Is it very old?’
‘That’s a dolphin,’ Owain said. ‘Yes, it is old. It came from somewhere beyond the seas—Rome, I suppose—when we did. And that was when the Eagles first came to Britain.’
But he saw that she did not know what he was talking about. He knew, because his father had told him what his father had told him; but there had been no one to tell Regina. Anyhow, it didn’t matter. It was all dead now.
‘You should take better care of it,’ said Regina, with a hint of scolding in her tone. ‘I could have cut the thong and stolen it quite easily in the night, if I had known that it was there.’
‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll sleep with my hand over it tonight.’
She looked up at him with those strange rain-grey eyes, and said simply, ‘No, you need not. It is no good stealing now. There is nothing in Viroconium to buy with gold.’
‘You could take it out of Viroconium and maybe buy a place in a boat crossing to Gaul. That’s what the people who have any gold to spend, buy with it nowadays.’
It was said half in jest, half in unexpected earnest, but either way, Regina slipped away from it as though it were some kind of menace. She pushed the ring back into his hand, and turned away to the fire. ‘Oh look!—The hare is scorching.’
6
The Cattlex Raiders
O WAIN came to the edge of the trees that made a dark fleece about the flanks of the Virocon, a pair of wood pigeons swinging in one hand and Dog loping at his heels; and turned his steps, weary from his day’s hunting, back towards the pale gleam that was the walls of Viroconium. He shivered in the thin east wind that parted Dog’s hair in zigzags down his back, and thought of the cooking fire that Regina would have made ready.
He was hungry as well as tired, and the store-hole in the wall had been empty, so there would be nothing to eat until the pigeons were cooked. Once, he and Dog had killed a yearling roebuck—the sling he was carrying now, tucked into his belt, was made of its skin—and the three of them had gorged themselves for days. But there had been other times, especially when
The light of the flames caught the flawed emerald and it blazed into a flake of green fire between his fingers; and she leaned towards it with a little gasp, her dirty hand darting out to take it. ‘You must have been very rich!’ she said, and her fingers suddenly looked like little brown claws. He had not thought of his father’s ring as being valuable, only as being precious.
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s the only jewel we ever had; and look, it is flawed … There was just the farm, and it was all we could do to keep the roof on the byres.’
‘Farm? You had a farm all of your own? Where was that?’
‘Over that way, maybe a day’s march.’ He jerked his head towards the south-eastern corner of the little room.
Regina glanced in the same direction, as though she expected to see the farm in the shadows beyond the firelight. ‘The Saxons came that way,’ she said after a moment.
‘I know,’ Owain said, staring at the hare. He was thinking of the burnt-out farms that he had passed two days ago. He had been careful not to think of his own farm ever since. He knew now that he would never go back to see what the Saxons had left.
Regina was turning the ring between her fingers, her head bent over it. ‘There’s a queer fish-thing carved on it. Is it very old?’
‘That’s a dolphin,’ Owain said. ‘Yes, it is old. It came from somewhere beyond the seas—Rome, I suppose—when we did. And that was when the Eagles first came to Britain.’
But he saw that she did not know what he was talking about. He knew, because his father had told him what his father had told him; but there had been no one to tell Regina. Anyhow, it didn’t matter. It was all dead now.
‘You should take better care of it,’ said Regina, with a hint of scolding in her tone. ‘I could have cut the thong and stolen it quite easily in the night, if I had known that it was there.’
‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll sleep with my hand over it tonight.’
She looked up at him with those strange rain-grey eyes, and said simply, ‘No, you need not. It is no good stealing now. There is nothing in Viroconium to buy with gold.’
‘You could take it out of Viroconium and maybe buy a place in a boat crossing to Gaul. That’s what the people who have any gold to spend, buy with it nowadays.’
It was said half in jest, half in unexpected earnest, but either way, Regina slipped away from it as though it were some kind of menace. She pushed the ring back into his hand, and turned away to the fire. ‘Oh look!—The hare is scorching.’
6
The Cattlex Raiders
O WAIN came to the edge of the trees that made a dark fleece about the flanks of the Virocon, a pair of wood pigeons swinging in one hand and Dog loping at his heels; and turned his steps, weary from his day’s hunting, back towards the pale gleam that was the walls of Viroconium. He shivered in the thin east wind that parted Dog’s hair in zigzags down his back, and thought of the cooking fire that Regina would have made ready.
He was hungry as well as tired, and the store-hole in the wall had been empty, so there would be nothing to eat until the pigeons were cooked. Once, he and Dog had killed a yearling roebuck—the sling he was carrying now, tucked into his belt, was made of its skin—and the three of them had gorged themselves for days. But there had been other times, especially when