Read Online The Silver Sun by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online Page A

that signal, folk rising up silently, taking their lord's horses, his cattle and sheep, the grain in his storehouse, the gold in his treasure room, the weapons in his armory. Any of these things, if done with stealth, would greatly cripple his garrison when he awoke to hear the brazen trumpets roaring the news of the King's death. And the peasants safely away, and the lords far too busy to retaliate.” He sighed and turned his eyes back to Alan. “If only I needed no more force than that."
    “Proud lords are not likely to yield without bloodshed,” Alan stated wryly.
    “I know it. Craig the Grim has great store of weapons, and the influence to muster over a thousand men, all skilled archers. I spoke with him before I left him, and surprised him little, for he, too, has his spies, and had long since guessed. Ket the Red is another one who will fight for me, I think. And if I am not mistaken, Margerie can be a powerful friend to us in Whitewater. The time has not yet come to tell them my need—so far, only you and Craig know of me—but they will be there when I have need of them. And others, Alan; I have heard that there are strange folk in the north. Perhaps the roving warlords of the Barrens will see fit to aid me, or I may find even better friends, fearsome friends to bring a swift peace, if my dreams lead me truly....” His eyes glittered as be spoke, and Alan was reminded once again of his Welandais blood.
    They did not turn at once to the north, however. First they backtracked to look for Corin and the sword. After their day of rest they left the Forest toward White water and cast about on the Waste, searching the occasional small thickets they had been forced to speed past before. They found an old campsite, perhaps Corin's, but they found no other traces. Several times they sighted lordsmen in the far distance and fled northward, still on the open Waste. They spent two nervous nights on the bare, stony ground, sleeping restlessly in spite of the watchfulness of their horses. Finally, Hal admitted temporary defeat.
    “Those two are farther to the north now, even at a footpace,” he grumbled. “And the only reason the lordsmen haven't come after us is because they can't believe we would be such fools."
    They returned to the Forest for a sound night's sleep, then traveled northward for a few days within its shelter. Oak and beech trees began to give way to pine and fir. Hal felt more secure from lordsmen now, and ready to search for Corin once more. It was reaping time at the isolated cottages of the Waste. Hal and Alan found that their help was welcomed at the hot, dusty work, and they were paid as generously as the struggling landholders could afford. But no one had any word of a blond boy or his bald, blacksmith father.
    For days they traveled northward on the Waste, returning to the Forest only to sleep or hunt. As they went on, the holdings of cottagers grew fewer and farther between, and the land grew wilder and more lonely, until at length there came a day when they saw no living creatures except rabbits and sparrows. It was a strange land they traveled now, not much changed by the passing of time, for everywhere were signs of ancient dwellers—cairns, strange mounds and earthworks, and standing stones raised like monstrous fangs toward the sky. Hal's gray eyes gleamed as he regarded the great gray stones, but Alan shivered in their shadows. He was a native of the gentle green southlands, and he felt naked and exposed in this high, windy place.
    “Ages ago, this was Forest,” Hal said. “All of Isle was Forest, the soul and dwelling of the Lady Mother. Small dark people roamed from grassy glade to glade and fed their animals on acorn mast. But iron-armed men came, who wanted to make themselves a great nation, so they felled the trees with their iron axes and turned the ground with their iron tools, and raised great stones to their dead and their gods, and piled mounds of dirt for their timber towers,