Read Online Season of Sacrifice by Mindy Klasky - Free Book Online

sobbed as if she’d lost the last of her rag dolls, and the red-faced woman folded the girl closer against her padded hip, clucking meaningless noises as she stared in shock at Duke Coren. As Reade heard his sister, tears welled up in his own eyes. He did want his mum. And he did want to be back home. Duke Coren hadn’t answered any of his questions, and Reade still didn’t know why they were going to Smithcourt, or why they had to leave the People behind.
    “Good lady,” the duke crooned, and Reade remembered how the man had spoken to Alana Woodsinger, back home. The thought made him feel all strange inside. His belly flipped over, and he took his own step toward the red-faced woman, trying to duck away from the nobleman’s hand on his shoulder. Duke Coren, though, tightened his fingers, keeping Reade firmly in place. The duke went on, pitching his voice just above Maida’s sobbing. “Good lady, we have ridden hard, traveling from Land’s End in just a single week. You can see that these children are exhausted.”
    “I can see that this bairn is terrified!”
    “And well she might be, after the horrors that we witnessed in her village. On the Headland of Slaughter.”
    The name of home made Maida wail even louder, and Reade could barely make out her words. “I want to go home! I want my mum!” Reade took a deep breath, ready to cry out, too. Maida was right. They were so far away from Mum and Sartain Fisherman, from Alana Woodsinger and the Tree. Things were scary here, with Duke Coren, and with Donal, and with Crusher, the dog that was probably waiting outside even as the people in the tavern stared.
    Before Reade could start to wail, though, Duke Coren sighed and shook his head. The nobleman made a show of setting his dagger on the long wooden table. When he looked up at the drinking men, his face was exhausted, pale behind his dark beard. “I beg your indulgence, goodwife, honest men. These children are the only ones we were able to save from the Headland of Slaughter, and our journey has been hard. Even now, we haven’t dared to tell them the full story of what they left behind. Perhaps my men can put them to bed abovestairs, and then I can tell you the truth of what happened on the Headland.”
    The red-faced woman started to reply, but Maida interrupted, shrieking, “No! Don’t let them take me away! Don’t let me go! Help me!”
    “Easy, child.” The woman smoothed Maida’s hair like Mum would, but Reade saw the careful look she gave to the dagger that Duke Coren had set upon her table. The woman was afraid, too. “No one is going to take you away. We’ll hear the lord out, though. Hush, girl. Stop your crying.”
    Duke Coren waited until the woman looked up again, and then the nobleman shook his head. His face was sad, like Sartain Fisherman’s when Da went fishing with the Guardians. The duke sighed, and said, “I’m sorry to bear this horror into your house, good woman. But certainly you’ve heard rumors of the…strange habits out that way, on the Headland of Slaughter.”
    A squawk of protest rose in Reade’s throat. The People weren’t strange! Before he could say anything, though, Duke Coren tightened his grip on Reade’s shoulder. Each of the man’s fingers was a separate little spade, digging into his flesh. Reade wasn’t stupid. He understood an order, even a silent one. Reade was not supposed to talk. He could listen, but he could not talk.
    His heartbeat began to throb beneath Duke Coren’s fingertips, and he knew he would have a bruise beneath the golden cloth. Duke Coren continued, though, as if he weren’t pinching Reade’s flesh to the bone. “You see, good woman, any mention of the horror among those people is painful to this boy.”
    The duke lowered his voice, and each of the villagers leaned a little nearer. Reade was reminded of the People, gathering around the fires in their cottages, eager for the news that Duke Coren had brought when he arrived at the