Read Online The Outlaw King: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book One by Craig Saunders - Free Book Online

from a cross section of a massive oak felled to
build the farmhouse. The cross beams in the house were all made from oak, the
panelling made from ash, the flooring made from lud. The best woods were used
throughout the house and it would stand for many years to come. Even the roof
tiles were wood.
                ‘What
have you been talking about then?’
                ‘You’ve
never asked, but we thought you could do with a day free each week.’
                ‘Really?’
said Tarn.
                ‘Don’t
you want a day off? We thought you could go and spend some time with that nice
girl, what’s her name?’
                ‘Rena.’
Tarn smiled. ‘I’d love a day off. Will you manage without me, big man?’
                ‘I
managed just fine before, little man,’ barked Gard, with a laugh. ‘You go off
with your girl.’
                Tarn
let that one slide. If they wanted to think they were holding hands and
kissing, fine with him.
                ‘How’s
today sound?’ said Molly.
                ‘That
would be wonderful!’ Tarn thought for a moment. ‘But I don’t know if she’s in.’
                ‘Well,
you won’t know unless you get over there and find out.’
                ‘True,’
said Tarn sheepishly. ‘Well...I’ll be going then...’
                ‘Not
before you’ve finished your porridge, you’re not!’
                Tarn
wolfed down the rest of his porridge with his surrogate parents watching over
him, then, with a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek for Molly, he dashed
out the door and ran into the woods.
     
    *

 
    Chapter Seventeen
     
    Smoke
drifted from the hole in the sod roof of Rena’s hut as Tarn approached. Moss
surrounded the makeshift building instead of grass, and it felt good underfoot.
Tarn only wore boots in the winter, as did most people outside of towns and
cities. A good pair of boots wasn’t to be wasted when not needed.
                Feeling
a little apprehensive, he knocked. Normally, Tarn felt stupid being clean. He
didn’t like the feel of his skin when he’d had a bath. It was unnatural. Now he
was conscious of his smell like he’d never been before.
                He
could hear voices inside, but nobody came to the door. He knocked again and
someone – Mia, he thought – called out.
                ‘Come
in, Tarn!’
                The
door creaked as he pushed it, and poked his head through the opening without
stepping inside. Inside was smoky and dingy, the light of the fire in the
centre of the hut caught by the smoke and thrown around. He could barely make
out three shapes in the middle of the round room.
                ‘Rena?’
                ‘Tarn,’
called Rena, leaping to her feet. ‘I’m glad you came,’ she said, coming to the
door and taking Tarn’s hand. She led him into the centre of the room, and bade
him sit down. He coughed from the smoke. It wasn’t wood smoke, he knew. They
were seeking the future.
                ‘I’ve
been expecting you,’ said someone Tarn hadn’t seen before. Tarn knew Rena lived
with her mother, Mia, but he did not know the third figure. She put out a hand
through the fire and Tarn cried out, but the fire didn’t burn her. She touched
him and he saw that her hand was wrinkled and spotted. The touch lasted an
instant, but he felt something in that moment, almost like regret, or nostalgia
(although he didn’t know what nostalgia was. It was a word for old people in
taverns, not fourteen-year old boys). The feeling was uncomfortable and Tarn
pulled his hand back. The woman laughed and let him go, drawing her hand back
through the blue fire to her lap. She was hunched and wore a cloak, despite the
warmth inside the hut.
                ‘I’m
glad you came to me.’ Her voice cracked.