Read Online The Singing by Alison Croggon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alison Croggon
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dark, and the road glimmered faintly beneath them. Keru, Maerad's mare, was clearly wishing that she was back in a warm stable, although she said nothing; she carried Maerad as she promised she would, but there was no willingness in her step. Maerad thought of Imi, and hoped that she was happy in Murask. No doubt she was safer than she would be with Maerad, but Maerad missed her all the same.
After a while the sky lightened to a faint gray, but the day brought no relief; the wind lifted and it began to rain. They quickened their pace: they planned to stay that night at an inn in Barcombe, a hard day's ride from Innail, and both were anxious to get there as swiftly as they could. The countryside was bare and wintry, and gave them little incentive to dawdle. Maerad's hands were freezing, even though she was wearing thick silk gloves, and her face began to turn numb. The farther they rode, the colder it became: soon it became unbearable. Maerad hunched miserably on Keru in a futile attempt to retain the little fugitive warmth in her body.
Cadvan pulled Darsor up, and Keru drew to a halt beside him. "I like not this cold," he said. "The wind has an unnatural taste."
Her wits slowed by the cold, Maerad stared at him, missing his meaning.
"Weatherworking, I think," said Cadvan. He was scanning the sky anxiously. "And powerful weatherworking, too. It must be the Landrost. Maerad, I am thinking it is a bad time to be out in the open."
Maerad turned Keru around, looked up at the sky, and swore viciously. They had been riding uphill, and the valley slanted down in front of her back toward Innail. The School itself was hidden in the murk, but Maerad could see black clouds building to the east of them in the distance beyond Innail. Even from this far it was clear that they were veined with strange lightning. There was a faint tang in the air, like the smell of burned metal, that left a sour taste in her mouth, and an oppression in her mind. She wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.
She and Cadvan had discussed the risk of being caught on the road during one of the Landrost's attacks. All previous attacks had been at night, and near Tinagel, and they had judged they ought to be reasonably safe if they left early and traveled fast. Fighting alone in the open against the Landrost's wers was the worst possible chance: they would have very little likelihood of survival.
"We can't stay here," she said. "Stormont is not so far— perhaps we could ride there."
"I'm thinking that Stormont will be no shelter against an attack like this," Cadvan answered. "But that storm looks as if it is heading for Innail, Maerad. Indik said that he was expecting an attack on the School very soon. And the Landrost knows that if he can destroy Innail, the rest of the vale is his."
For a moment they stared at each other, the same thought in both their minds. Then they pushed the horses on so sharply that Keru stumbled, and began to ride for their lives back to Innail. The road was straight before them, and Darsor stretched flat into a full gallop. Keru began to fall behind.
Faster, Keru, Maerad cried to her mare.
I'm—trying, Keru said. I cannot run as fast as Darsor—
J/ we do not reach Innail very soon, we will die. Do you understand?
Keru didn't answer: she plunged forward, her ears flat against her skull. Now they were bolting down the road; Darsor was still ahead of them, but the gap between them was not growing. Perhaps Cadvan, seeing that Maerad had fallen behind, had slowed Darsor down. Maerad leaned forward in the saddle, the wind of their speed lashing her hair into her mouth, all thought of the cold forgotten. How long had they been riding since they left Innail? An hour? Two hours? For much of that time they had ridden slowly because of the dark; they couldn't have come too far. And how hardy was Keru? Maerad didn't know how far her mare could be pushed. She urged her on, checking the sky when she could. Visibility was poor, as the
After a while the sky lightened to a faint gray, but the day brought no relief; the wind lifted and it began to rain. They quickened their pace: they planned to stay that night at an inn in Barcombe, a hard day's ride from Innail, and both were anxious to get there as swiftly as they could. The countryside was bare and wintry, and gave them little incentive to dawdle. Maerad's hands were freezing, even though she was wearing thick silk gloves, and her face began to turn numb. The farther they rode, the colder it became: soon it became unbearable. Maerad hunched miserably on Keru in a futile attempt to retain the little fugitive warmth in her body.
Cadvan pulled Darsor up, and Keru drew to a halt beside him. "I like not this cold," he said. "The wind has an unnatural taste."
Her wits slowed by the cold, Maerad stared at him, missing his meaning.
"Weatherworking, I think," said Cadvan. He was scanning the sky anxiously. "And powerful weatherworking, too. It must be the Landrost. Maerad, I am thinking it is a bad time to be out in the open."
Maerad turned Keru around, looked up at the sky, and swore viciously. They had been riding uphill, and the valley slanted down in front of her back toward Innail. The School itself was hidden in the murk, but Maerad could see black clouds building to the east of them in the distance beyond Innail. Even from this far it was clear that they were veined with strange lightning. There was a faint tang in the air, like the smell of burned metal, that left a sour taste in her mouth, and an oppression in her mind. She wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.
She and Cadvan had discussed the risk of being caught on the road during one of the Landrost's attacks. All previous attacks had been at night, and near Tinagel, and they had judged they ought to be reasonably safe if they left early and traveled fast. Fighting alone in the open against the Landrost's wers was the worst possible chance: they would have very little likelihood of survival.
"We can't stay here," she said. "Stormont is not so far— perhaps we could ride there."
"I'm thinking that Stormont will be no shelter against an attack like this," Cadvan answered. "But that storm looks as if it is heading for Innail, Maerad. Indik said that he was expecting an attack on the School very soon. And the Landrost knows that if he can destroy Innail, the rest of the vale is his."
For a moment they stared at each other, the same thought in both their minds. Then they pushed the horses on so sharply that Keru stumbled, and began to ride for their lives back to Innail. The road was straight before them, and Darsor stretched flat into a full gallop. Keru began to fall behind.
Faster, Keru, Maerad cried to her mare.
I'm—trying, Keru said. I cannot run as fast as Darsor—
J/ we do not reach Innail very soon, we will die. Do you understand?
Keru didn't answer: she plunged forward, her ears flat against her skull. Now they were bolting down the road; Darsor was still ahead of them, but the gap between them was not growing. Perhaps Cadvan, seeing that Maerad had fallen behind, had slowed Darsor down. Maerad leaned forward in the saddle, the wind of their speed lashing her hair into her mouth, all thought of the cold forgotten. How long had they been riding since they left Innail? An hour? Two hours? For much of that time they had ridden slowly because of the dark; they couldn't have come too far. And how hardy was Keru? Maerad didn't know how far her mare could be pushed. She urged her on, checking the sky when she could. Visibility was poor, as the
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