Read Online The Birthgrave by Tanith Lee - Free Book Online

black ant, on a black ant pony. Not angry for me, of course. Angry that such trivia should interfere with his plans.
    There was more conference then. He ate, sitting outside his own big tent, and while the women brought him food and beer in great earthenware jugs, the complaints against me came and went. The hysteria was out of all proportion to the event, but it is their nature to turn on the different one. They must all be sheep.
    Finally he stood up, and hit some man across the face. This must have been an insult against Darak himself. While the bandit sprawled, Darak turned, and began to walk toward my lonely pitched tent on the rock. I could almost have laughed then, seeing him go in, then come out again, and wave his arms furiously, and men go running in every direction across the ravine to search me out. But my heart began to drum, for he came toward the fall and began to climb the rocky slope as if he knew instinctively where I must be.
    Watching him climb, so remote and far from me at first, but growing nearer, larger, more real and dominant, I felt as if I called him to me, and could not help myself. He paused at the pool below, looked around, then up. He did not see me. He frowned, and came on again.
    I sat down by the leaning stones, and put one hand on them, for the cruel warmth of day was rising, and they were cool still, and hard and secure. I trembled, and my heartbeat stabbed in me, and I wished it were from fear.
    I heard his footsteps on the stones, once through water. Twice he stopped, then moved on once more.
    Then he had turned the path, and he stood in front of me, against the curdling sky of sunrise. He was dark against that light, but I could just make out his face.
    He looked at me and said harshly: “Of course. Where else could you be?”
    He moved along the edge of the little streams, but did not cross.
    â€œYou find comfort here, do you?” he said.
    There was something in his voice and look that part of me cowered away from. I said nothing. I seemed to be drowning in his presence, but there was no help for it.
    â€œThey say”—he jerked his thumb toward the ravine—“you killed some girl because she had my child. Brought on a miscarriage with a potion, then drugged her and let her die.”
    There seemed no point in speaking, but obviously he expected an answer.
    â€œNo,” I said.
    â€œNo,” he repeated, “of course ‘No.’ Why should you do it? Shullatt speaks about you as if you were a woman, with a woman’s emotions and spitefulness, but you’re as cool as river clay. There may be wickedness in you, but not a thing as ordinary as jealousy. Besides, goddess, the gods accept only necessities. What they really want, they take without asking.”
    I felt the need to grasp at this sentence, cynical, yet deeper than he meant it to be. There was no time.
    â€œWhy I brought you here I don’t fully understand. There’s a sickness with the sheep and the cattle, and this apparently is your doing too. They’ll not be happy till you’re gone.”
    â€œThen I will go,” I said.
    â€œOh, no, it’s not so easy, goddess. You know our stronghold. When I say gone, I mean gone underground with an arrow through you, or your neck broken. Of course,” he added, “if I cut off your tongue and fingers—”
    â€œNo!” a shrill voice shouted. “Kill her! Your men want her dead, too, Darak.”
    Beyond Darak stood a woman’s silhouette that spoke with Shullatt’s voice.
    Darak half turned.
    â€œWho asked you to follow me, Shullatt? I didn’t.”
    â€œI knew she’d be here—the place with the Stones—and I knew you wouldn’t do what we asked—kill and burn her, and rid us of the filthy curse she brought.”
    I stood up and blood tingled through me. I must die and burn, because this bitch demanded it. I crossed through the water, and she darted at me suddenly