Read Online Madbond by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online

no, spill his innards, one slashing blow would fell him—
    My—my enemy whom I loved—
    I think I screamed, but I do not truly know, for I was out of my mind. Screams surged up inside me, for certain, and I faintly heard Kor shouting “Archer!” as if calling to me from a great distance, and then I came to myself somewhat, my face pressed against the rocky ground, gasping. Crumpled there, crouching like some hunted creature, and there was noise, clamor of voices, and Kor had his arm around my shoulders, trying to comfort or protect me—
    â€œArcher, are you all right?”
    I raised my head enough to look at him, to see—blood on his neck.
    And I came up on my knees, hands to my head, and screamed—roared, rather, a cry that felt as if it would tear my throat out, and my heart with it. From a small distance came an answering shriek and the sound of splintering wood. Then the babbling crowd scattered as Talu came to get me.
    Kor tried to hold me. But I flung him off, staggered to my feet and grasped the mare by the mane. I vaulted onto her back. A sickly trembling had overtaken me so that I scarcely had strength to ride. But ride I did, and at a dead run she took me up to the forest, through the dense spruce and along the mountain’s flank, away from the headland.

Chapter Five
    At some distance from the village of the Seal Kindred, Talu took me down a steep, shelving rock face to an expanse of sandy beach. She chose the path, not I. Ravaged by my own strange passions as I was, I had not even reached for the single rein of braided seal gut trailing from her headstall. The blanket that still covered the mare had wadded up underneath me, giving me a ride far more comfortable than the one the day before, but even if it had been otherwise I think I would not have noticed. I wanted only to run, hide, flee from—something I could only feel, not remember. Talu took me at an easy lope along the strand, running head up and nose thrust forward through the spray and shallow seawater that washed at the wet sand. I dare say it was beautiful, but an easy lope to cover the distance was not enough for me then. I wanted her wild, crazed gallop again. I kicked her in the ribs.
    She threw me.
    Limp oaf that I was that day, she threw me with a single hard buck. I fell off seaward, landed on my butt in salt water and wet sand, amazed to find myself looking up at her instead of on her. She gave a snort of scorn, spun on her hocks, and left me there.
    Getting up, I set off down the strand again, stumbling even on the hard-packed sand, I was so distraught. I had no thought as to where I was going, or why. I could only walk. After a while I came to more rocks. High islets of gray-green stone towered out of the sea, some with grotesque twisted spruces clinging to them, weirdly beautiful. Greenstones, I later learned they were called, or sea stacks. One mighty stone had an arch cut in it by the sea. Landward loomed more masses of rock, and as I came around the knees of them, picking my way along the narrow margin of the sea, I came upon many seals, seals by the tens, seals spotted like winter apples with bubble-patterns of white, gray and brown, males as large as I, bewhiskered mothers, big-eyed half-grown pups. They lumbered away from me and splashed into the water, but I could have overtaken them easily, even at the walk. Carved by the sea under the lee of the rock was a tunnel or cave. More seals looked out of it, talking among themselves in yelps and squeaks of consternation because I stood between them and the water. Something about them, their ample flesh, their softly rounded furry faces, looked immensely comforting. I did not care if they turned on me to slash at me with their teeth—I walked right up to them and sank down among them. Nor did I mind their smell as of a hundred wet dogs, for I had slept in the same tent with hunting hounds all my winters. We are not reared to be squeamish, we of the