Read Online Sing the Four Quarters by Tanya Huff - Free Book Online
Authors: Tanya Huff
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Fantastic fiction, Canadian Fiction
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his outstretched legs, and slowly, deliberately, stroked her gaze down the length of his body and back.
He shifted in the chair. "I do have to go, as I said, tomorrow morning."
—"Of course you do. The pass doesn't defy the weather and won't remain open much longer."
"And tonight…" He tried to look away, found he couldn't, and wet his lips. "Tonight, I must concentrate on Pjerin."
"How pleasant for you both." Olina bent forward. Her eyes still holding Albek's, she grasped both arms of the chair and made him a prisoner beneath the arch of her body. Her smile became decidedly feral. "All things considered then, I suggest that we don't waste the afternoon."
"Papa, why don't you like Aunty Olina's friend?"
"Because I think he'd sell his own mother if the price was right." Pjerin lifted his son out of the bath and set him on the hearth, wrapping him in the towel that had been warming in front of the nursery fire.
"Oh." The piping voice came out a little muffled through the enveloping fabric. "How much does a mother cost?"
"Why? Do you want one?"
Gerek's head emerged, hair sticking out in damp black spikes, expression indignant. "I got one," he reminded his father. His mother came to visit sometimes and sometimes, although he didn't like it as much—because his grandpapa was very old and didn't care much for small boys even when they tried hard to be quiet—he went to visit her. "And I got you, and Nurse Jany, and Aunty Olina, and Bohdan, and Rezka, and Urmi, and Kaspar, and Brencis…"
"Wait a minute." Bohdan was his elderly steward;
Rezka ruled the kitchens, and Urmi, her partner, was the stablemaster; Kaspar was Gerek's pony. Pjerin made a point of knowing the names of all his people, high or low, and occasionally four-legged. "Who's Brencis?"
"A goat." Gerek shrugged at his father's ignorance and obediently turned to have his back dried. "Aunty Olina likes him."
"Who? Brencis?"
"No! Albek!" Standing naked in the firelight, he scratched the back of one leg with the other foot. "If you don't like him, how come you let him stay around. You could make him go if you wanted to."
"Your Aunt Olina likes him. And this is her home, too."
"Oh. Bohdan doesn't like him neither. Bohdan says that Albek is so slippery even the Circle couldn't hold him."
"Arms up."
Gerek raised his arms and poked them through the sleeves of his nightshirt. "Does that make him a bad man, Papa? I thought everything was in the Circle?"
Pjerin made a mental note to speak to Bohdan about his choice of words. And then he can-explain theology to a four-year-old . Maybe it was time they had a priest at the keep. "Everything is in the Circle, even Albek."
"But Bohdan said…"
"Never mind what Bohdan said."
Gerek peered up at his father from under his lashes. Ever?"
"Never mind what he said about Albek, you terror. You still mind what he says the rest of the time." The next few moments degenerated into a wild free-for-all that ended with Pjerin flat on his back and Gerek perched on his chest demanding his surrender.
"You win. I surrender."
"Kiss my ringer."
"Is that part of the surrender?"
"No. It got bit by a chicken."
"What were you doing in the henhouse?"
"Helping." At Pjerin's frown he hastily added, "Really helping. Not like last time."
Pjerin raised his head off the floor and kissed the proffered finger. Then he continued the motion, scooping Gerek into his arms and rising lithely to his feet. With the boy cradled against his chest, he stepped around the pair of servants removing the bath and settled down into the only piece of furniture in the room large enough to hold his weight.
Gerek squirmed around until he was sitting half on his father's lap and half beside him tucked into the angle of the big chair. Stretching his bare toes out toward the fire, he said, "Can I stay with you for vigil this year?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I have my own candle?" His voice was hopeful, but he obviously didn't expect a positive
He shifted in the chair. "I do have to go, as I said, tomorrow morning."
—"Of course you do. The pass doesn't defy the weather and won't remain open much longer."
"And tonight…" He tried to look away, found he couldn't, and wet his lips. "Tonight, I must concentrate on Pjerin."
"How pleasant for you both." Olina bent forward. Her eyes still holding Albek's, she grasped both arms of the chair and made him a prisoner beneath the arch of her body. Her smile became decidedly feral. "All things considered then, I suggest that we don't waste the afternoon."
"Papa, why don't you like Aunty Olina's friend?"
"Because I think he'd sell his own mother if the price was right." Pjerin lifted his son out of the bath and set him on the hearth, wrapping him in the towel that had been warming in front of the nursery fire.
"Oh." The piping voice came out a little muffled through the enveloping fabric. "How much does a mother cost?"
"Why? Do you want one?"
Gerek's head emerged, hair sticking out in damp black spikes, expression indignant. "I got one," he reminded his father. His mother came to visit sometimes and sometimes, although he didn't like it as much—because his grandpapa was very old and didn't care much for small boys even when they tried hard to be quiet—he went to visit her. "And I got you, and Nurse Jany, and Aunty Olina, and Bohdan, and Rezka, and Urmi, and Kaspar, and Brencis…"
"Wait a minute." Bohdan was his elderly steward;
Rezka ruled the kitchens, and Urmi, her partner, was the stablemaster; Kaspar was Gerek's pony. Pjerin made a point of knowing the names of all his people, high or low, and occasionally four-legged. "Who's Brencis?"
"A goat." Gerek shrugged at his father's ignorance and obediently turned to have his back dried. "Aunty Olina likes him."
"Who? Brencis?"
"No! Albek!" Standing naked in the firelight, he scratched the back of one leg with the other foot. "If you don't like him, how come you let him stay around. You could make him go if you wanted to."
"Your Aunt Olina likes him. And this is her home, too."
"Oh. Bohdan doesn't like him neither. Bohdan says that Albek is so slippery even the Circle couldn't hold him."
"Arms up."
Gerek raised his arms and poked them through the sleeves of his nightshirt. "Does that make him a bad man, Papa? I thought everything was in the Circle?"
Pjerin made a mental note to speak to Bohdan about his choice of words. And then he can-explain theology to a four-year-old . Maybe it was time they had a priest at the keep. "Everything is in the Circle, even Albek."
"But Bohdan said…"
"Never mind what Bohdan said."
Gerek peered up at his father from under his lashes. Ever?"
"Never mind what he said about Albek, you terror. You still mind what he says the rest of the time." The next few moments degenerated into a wild free-for-all that ended with Pjerin flat on his back and Gerek perched on his chest demanding his surrender.
"You win. I surrender."
"Kiss my ringer."
"Is that part of the surrender?"
"No. It got bit by a chicken."
"What were you doing in the henhouse?"
"Helping." At Pjerin's frown he hastily added, "Really helping. Not like last time."
Pjerin raised his head off the floor and kissed the proffered finger. Then he continued the motion, scooping Gerek into his arms and rising lithely to his feet. With the boy cradled against his chest, he stepped around the pair of servants removing the bath and settled down into the only piece of furniture in the room large enough to hold his weight.
Gerek squirmed around until he was sitting half on his father's lap and half beside him tucked into the angle of the big chair. Stretching his bare toes out toward the fire, he said, "Can I stay with you for vigil this year?"
"Of course you can."
"Can I have my own candle?" His voice was hopeful, but he obviously didn't expect a positive
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