Read Online The Fires of Heaven by Robert Jordan - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Jordan
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Faces may change, but voices don’t.” She touched her own face wonderingly, as she sometimes did, apparently unaware of doing so. “Faces do change,” she murmured. Then her tone firmed. “I’ve paid heavy prices already for what I had to do, and I will pay this one. Eventually. If you must drown or ride a lionfish, you ride and hope for the best. That is all there is to it, Serenla.”
“Being a servant is far from the future I would choose,” Leane said, “but it
is
in the future, and who knows what may happen before? I can remember too well when I thought I had no future.” A small smile appeared on her lips, her eyes half-closed dreamily, and her voice became velvet. “Besides, I don’t think he will sell our hides at all. Give me a few years of practice, and then a few minutes with Lord Gareth Bryne, and he will greet us with open arms and put us up in his best rooms. He’ll deck us with silks, and offer his carriage to carry us wherever we want to go.”
Min left her wrapped in her fantasy. Sometimes she thought the other two both lived in dreamworlds. Something else occurred to her. A small thing, but it was beginning to irritate. “Ah, Mara, tell me something. I’ve noticed some people smile when you call me by name. Serenla. Bryne did, and he said something about my mother having a premonition. Why?”
“In the Old Tongue,” Siuan replied, “it means ‘stubborn daughter.’ You did have a stubborn streak when we first met. A mile wide and a mile deep.” Siuan said that! Siuan, the most stubborn woman in the whole world! Her smile was as wide as her face. “Of course, you do seem to be coming along. At the next village, you might use Chalinda. That means ‘sweet girl.’ Or maybe—”
Suddenly the cart gave a harder lurch than any before, then picked up speed as if the horse were reaching for a gallop. Bumping around like grain on a chaffing sieve, the three women stared at one another in surprise. Then Siuan levered herself up and pulled aside the canvas hiding the driver’s seat. Joni was gone. Throwing herself across the wooden seat, Siuan grabbed the reins and reared back, hauling the horse to a halt. Min threw open the back curtains, searching.
The road ran through a thicket here, nearly a small forest of oak and elm, pine and leatherleaf. The dust of their short dash was still settling, some of it on Joni, where he lay sprawled by the side of the hard-packed dirt road sixty or so paces back.
Instinctively Min leaped down and ran back to kneel beside the big man. He was still breathing, but his eyes were closed and a bloody gash on the side of his head was coming up in a purple lump.
Leane pushed her aside and felt Joni’s head with sure fingers. “He will live,” she said crisply. “Nothing seems broken, but he will have a headache for days after he wakes.” Sitting back on her heels, she folded her hands, and her voice saddened. “There is nothing I can do for him in any case. Burn me, I promised myself I would not cry over it again.”
“The question—” Min swallowed and started again. “The question is, do we load him in the back of the cart and take him on to the manor, or do we—go?”
Light, I’m no better than Siuan!
“We could carry him as far as the next farm,” Leane said slowly.
Siuan came up to them, leading the cart horse as if afraid the placid animal might bite. One glance at the man on the ground, and she frowned. “He never had that falling off the cart. I don’t see root or rock here to cause it.” She started studying the wood around them, and a man rode out of the trees on a tall black stallion, leading three mares, one shaggy and two hands shorter than the others.
He was a tall man in a blue silk coat, with a sword at his side, his hair curling to broad shoulders, darkly handsome despite a hardening as though misfortune had marked him deeply. And he was the last man Min expected to see.
“Is this your work?” Siuan demanded of
“Being a servant is far from the future I would choose,” Leane said, “but it
is
in the future, and who knows what may happen before? I can remember too well when I thought I had no future.” A small smile appeared on her lips, her eyes half-closed dreamily, and her voice became velvet. “Besides, I don’t think he will sell our hides at all. Give me a few years of practice, and then a few minutes with Lord Gareth Bryne, and he will greet us with open arms and put us up in his best rooms. He’ll deck us with silks, and offer his carriage to carry us wherever we want to go.”
Min left her wrapped in her fantasy. Sometimes she thought the other two both lived in dreamworlds. Something else occurred to her. A small thing, but it was beginning to irritate. “Ah, Mara, tell me something. I’ve noticed some people smile when you call me by name. Serenla. Bryne did, and he said something about my mother having a premonition. Why?”
“In the Old Tongue,” Siuan replied, “it means ‘stubborn daughter.’ You did have a stubborn streak when we first met. A mile wide and a mile deep.” Siuan said that! Siuan, the most stubborn woman in the whole world! Her smile was as wide as her face. “Of course, you do seem to be coming along. At the next village, you might use Chalinda. That means ‘sweet girl.’ Or maybe—”
Suddenly the cart gave a harder lurch than any before, then picked up speed as if the horse were reaching for a gallop. Bumping around like grain on a chaffing sieve, the three women stared at one another in surprise. Then Siuan levered herself up and pulled aside the canvas hiding the driver’s seat. Joni was gone. Throwing herself across the wooden seat, Siuan grabbed the reins and reared back, hauling the horse to a halt. Min threw open the back curtains, searching.
The road ran through a thicket here, nearly a small forest of oak and elm, pine and leatherleaf. The dust of their short dash was still settling, some of it on Joni, where he lay sprawled by the side of the hard-packed dirt road sixty or so paces back.
Instinctively Min leaped down and ran back to kneel beside the big man. He was still breathing, but his eyes were closed and a bloody gash on the side of his head was coming up in a purple lump.
Leane pushed her aside and felt Joni’s head with sure fingers. “He will live,” she said crisply. “Nothing seems broken, but he will have a headache for days after he wakes.” Sitting back on her heels, she folded her hands, and her voice saddened. “There is nothing I can do for him in any case. Burn me, I promised myself I would not cry over it again.”
“The question—” Min swallowed and started again. “The question is, do we load him in the back of the cart and take him on to the manor, or do we—go?”
Light, I’m no better than Siuan!
“We could carry him as far as the next farm,” Leane said slowly.
Siuan came up to them, leading the cart horse as if afraid the placid animal might bite. One glance at the man on the ground, and she frowned. “He never had that falling off the cart. I don’t see root or rock here to cause it.” She started studying the wood around them, and a man rode out of the trees on a tall black stallion, leading three mares, one shaggy and two hands shorter than the others.
He was a tall man in a blue silk coat, with a sword at his side, his hair curling to broad shoulders, darkly handsome despite a hardening as though misfortune had marked him deeply. And he was the last man Min expected to see.
“Is this your work?” Siuan demanded of
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