Read Online The Book of the Sword (Darkest Age) by A. J. Lake - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: A. J. Lake
Ads: Link
looked puzzled and concerned; Cathbar exasperated.
Only Fritha showed the beginnings of alarm. ‘What?’ she asked, her face tense. ‘What did you hear?’
Elspeth hesitated, then risked another glance at the ice-hole. The water beneath lay black and undisturbed. ‘Nothing,’ she said finally. ‘I was afraid the ice was cracking, that’s all.’
Fritha did not look convinced, but she asked no more questions. She produced a thin rod from her pack and settled down by the hole to fish, watched by Edmund. Cathbar went to tend the fire. Elspeth turned away from them all and tried to calm her thoughts. She had lied to them. Well, she told herself, Cathbar would not have believed her. Edmund would think her dreaming, probably. And Fritha … Fritha would believe her all too well, and would be afraid. Surely the things she had seen, whatever they were, were too insubstantial to hurt anyone! But what were they? Fritha’s evil spirits?
Elspeth found herself wandering along the edge of the lake, as if movement could ease her confusion. The sun was getting low now, the little fires that dotted the shoreline glowing in the gathering shadow, but she walked on restlessly.
Fritha believes in spirits under the ice – but she didn’t see them. I did; and they called to me. Why?
And what was the name they had called: Ioneth? It seemed somehow familiar, but she could not remember ever hearing it before.
‘
Thu, myrk-har!
’
She jumped. The deep voice made her think of Fritha’s father, Grufweld, and for a moment, disorientated, she looked around for him. But this speaker had called her
myrk-har
, black-hair, not by her name – and his voice held none of Grufweld’s gentleness.
Now that she looked around, she saw that she had wandered some distance from her camp toward the tents of the fishermen. Three big, bearded men in heavy furs were standing around her. The largest was speaking again, but she could not understand him at first; something about fire. When she did not reply, he repeated himself with a scornful lilt, as if talking to an idiot. He stood a little unsteadily, she noticed, as if he had drunk too much ale.
‘You’re a stranger here – you should not be fishing in our lake. But Olafr here says you have a fire-stick to break the ice.’
The second man nodded and grinned, showing blackened teeth. ‘It burned white, not red,’ he said. ‘And cut through the ice like reindeer fat!’
‘So,’ the first cut in, ‘here’s a bargain for you. Give us the fire-stick, and we won’t stop you taking our fish.’
His tone was cheerful, but Elspeth had seen men like this before at the harbours. The word ‘bargain’ in their mouths meant: give me what you have, and I may not hurt you. Her father had been adept at sending them off without violence, but her father had been a grown man, whose position gave him respect. She could feel the sword trying to burst free,sending sparks shooting up her right arm.
No!
Elspeth thought urgently.
This is the trouble we have when just one person sees you
. But the third man, wide as a hut, was blocking her way back to her own camp.
‘I don’t understand you!’ she said, making her voice as loud as she could. Maybe Cathbar and the others would hear her – she could not see them past the wide man’s shoulders. ‘My … my father has a sword. That’s how we broke the ice.’
The first man gave a bark of laughter and took a step towards her. ‘That’s not what Olafr saw,’ he said. ‘He says
you
have the stick. And as for your father’s sword …’ He half drew the long knife tucked into his belt; Olafr, beside him, sniggered and did the same. ‘But we don’t want a fight, do we? You’re just a girl. Give us the stick now –’
A hand like a bear’s paw gripped Elspeth’s arm. The third man had been edging towards her as she kept her eye on the knives, and now he dragged her towards him while the other two lunged triumphantly forward. She threw herself back,
Only Fritha showed the beginnings of alarm. ‘What?’ she asked, her face tense. ‘What did you hear?’
Elspeth hesitated, then risked another glance at the ice-hole. The water beneath lay black and undisturbed. ‘Nothing,’ she said finally. ‘I was afraid the ice was cracking, that’s all.’
Fritha did not look convinced, but she asked no more questions. She produced a thin rod from her pack and settled down by the hole to fish, watched by Edmund. Cathbar went to tend the fire. Elspeth turned away from them all and tried to calm her thoughts. She had lied to them. Well, she told herself, Cathbar would not have believed her. Edmund would think her dreaming, probably. And Fritha … Fritha would believe her all too well, and would be afraid. Surely the things she had seen, whatever they were, were too insubstantial to hurt anyone! But what were they? Fritha’s evil spirits?
Elspeth found herself wandering along the edge of the lake, as if movement could ease her confusion. The sun was getting low now, the little fires that dotted the shoreline glowing in the gathering shadow, but she walked on restlessly.
Fritha believes in spirits under the ice – but she didn’t see them. I did; and they called to me. Why?
And what was the name they had called: Ioneth? It seemed somehow familiar, but she could not remember ever hearing it before.
‘
Thu, myrk-har!
’
She jumped. The deep voice made her think of Fritha’s father, Grufweld, and for a moment, disorientated, she looked around for him. But this speaker had called her
myrk-har
, black-hair, not by her name – and his voice held none of Grufweld’s gentleness.
Now that she looked around, she saw that she had wandered some distance from her camp toward the tents of the fishermen. Three big, bearded men in heavy furs were standing around her. The largest was speaking again, but she could not understand him at first; something about fire. When she did not reply, he repeated himself with a scornful lilt, as if talking to an idiot. He stood a little unsteadily, she noticed, as if he had drunk too much ale.
‘You’re a stranger here – you should not be fishing in our lake. But Olafr here says you have a fire-stick to break the ice.’
The second man nodded and grinned, showing blackened teeth. ‘It burned white, not red,’ he said. ‘And cut through the ice like reindeer fat!’
‘So,’ the first cut in, ‘here’s a bargain for you. Give us the fire-stick, and we won’t stop you taking our fish.’
His tone was cheerful, but Elspeth had seen men like this before at the harbours. The word ‘bargain’ in their mouths meant: give me what you have, and I may not hurt you. Her father had been adept at sending them off without violence, but her father had been a grown man, whose position gave him respect. She could feel the sword trying to burst free,sending sparks shooting up her right arm.
No!
Elspeth thought urgently.
This is the trouble we have when just one person sees you
. But the third man, wide as a hut, was blocking her way back to her own camp.
‘I don’t understand you!’ she said, making her voice as loud as she could. Maybe Cathbar and the others would hear her – she could not see them past the wide man’s shoulders. ‘My … my father has a sword. That’s how we broke the ice.’
The first man gave a bark of laughter and took a step towards her. ‘That’s not what Olafr saw,’ he said. ‘He says
you
have the stick. And as for your father’s sword …’ He half drew the long knife tucked into his belt; Olafr, beside him, sniggered and did the same. ‘But we don’t want a fight, do we? You’re just a girl. Give us the stick now –’
A hand like a bear’s paw gripped Elspeth’s arm. The third man had been edging towards her as she kept her eye on the knives, and now he dragged her towards him while the other two lunged triumphantly forward. She threw herself back,
Similar Books
