Read Online The Gold Falcon by Katharine Kerr - Free Book Online Page A

earthworks, Gerran saw a straggle of farmers leaving the trees with a cart full of firewood and an escort of two mounted men. When Tieryn Cadryc rose in his stirrups to hail them, the riders whooped with joy and galloped straight for the warbands waiting on the flat. One man dismounted and ran to grab Cadryc’s stirrup as a sign of fealty. A dark-haired young lad, he grinned from ear to ear.
    “Ah thank every god, Your Grace,” the rider said. “How did you get the news?”
    “Someone from the farther village escaped,” Cadryc said. “How fares your lord?”
    “That’s a tale and a half, my lord. Here, the farmers from our village got to the dun in time. One of the lads was out looking for a lost cow, so he saw the Horsekin coming and raised the alarm.”
    “That’s good to hear.”
    “Truly, Your Grace. So, the first thing we knew about it was when the whole cursed village comes charging up to the gates and yelling about raiders. So we let them in, and Lord Samyc wanted to ride out, but his lady begged him not to. There’s a woman for you, but anyway, cursed if the whole stinking village didn’t take her side.” The lad looked retrospectively furious. “They stood in front of the gates, and our lord was yelling and swearing, but they wouldn’t move, and all for her ladyship’s sake. So in the end Lord Samyc gave in.”
    “It gladdens my heart to hear that,” Cadryc said. “This raiding party must have been a large one.”
    “It was, Your Grace. Cursed if thirty Horsekin didn’t ride up to the maze here.” The lad gestured at the earthworks. “We could see them from the top of the wall, and they were yelling back and forth in that cursed ugly language of theirs, as bold as brass they were.”
    Cadryc glanced Gerran’s way with troubled eyes.
    “We’ve not seen that many in a long time, Your Grace,” Gerran said.
    “Indeed.” Cadryc raised one hand to get everyone’s attention. “All right, men, let’s get this wood up to the dun.”
    The villagers had turned Lord Samyc’s small ward into a camp, crammed with their cows, children, poultry, dogs, and heaps of household goods. When the warbands rode in, the men and horses filled the last available space. As he dismounted, Gerran saw a pair of hysterical servants rushing around and yelling back and forth about trying to feed so many guests. Red-haired, freckled, and a fair bit younger than Gerran, Lord Samyc ran out of the broch and knelt before the tieryn.
    “It gladdens my heart to see your grace,” Samyc said. “Even though you have every right to despise me for my dishonor.”
    “Suicide brings little honor, my lord,” Cadryc said. “Now get up and stop brooding about it.”
    Startled, Samyc scrambled to his feet and glanced over his shoulder. In the doorway of the broch, a young woman, so great with child that she’d slung her kirtle over one shoulder rather than wrapping it round her middle, stood watching the confusion in the ward. Gerran was surprised that Lord Samyc’s lady hadn’t delivered under the stress of the raid. She needed the help of a servant girl to curtsy to the tieryn.
    “Have I done a wrong thing, Your Grace?” she said. “Have I truly ruined my husband’s whole life by refusing to let him die?”
    “Oh, horse—oh, nonsense,” Cadryc said. “He’ll get over his sulk in time.”
    Since Lord Samyc had no room to shelter everyone, Lord Pedrys and Tieryn Cadryc stayed in the broch while Gerran led the warbands down to the riverbank to camp. On the off chance that the raiders would try a night strike, Gerran posted guards. When the gerthddyn offered to stand a watch, Gerran’s first impulse was to turn him down, but then he remembered Salamander’s formidable eyesight. Gerran gave him the last watch and decided to stand it with him.
    Some while before dawn, they walked down to the river together. Flecked with starlight, the water flowed broad and silent. Off to the west the rolling meadowlands lay dark.