Read Online The World Above the Sky by Kent Stetson - Free Book Online

turned and rose to heights unimagined, pulled up through wheels of pulsing light where Morgase, waiting, hovered. She reached down for the crippled child. The broken boy swept up too fast for her to capture. Morgase sped in pursuit. Eugainia could not follow. She plunged into the God’s good sleep, her sorrow too great to bear or comprehend.
    Keswalqw cut and knotted the cord. She wrapped the little corpse in the soft skin. She held the bundle aloft.
    â€œ Akaia ,” she chanted quietly. “ Akaia .”
    Mid-day sun flooded the meadow. The black stone’s surface rippled with heat. Birds took up their song, their warble and trill rattling air heavy with the scent of sweetgrass, dense as mist with the resins of fir and pine.

CHAPTER THREE
    â€¢ • •
    Henry established camp on a terrace of land overlooking the estuary of the great bay’s central river. As the full moon tide fell, Reclamation exposed her belly for repairs.
    Ignorance was sweet relief to Eugainia as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Latin, French, the Highland Scots Gaelic of Clan Sinclair’s household and the Old West Norse dialect well known to Henry, as liegeman to the crown of Norway—all these tongues were familiar to Eugainia from the first days of her youth. The language of The People made no sense to her whatsoever. She put her urge to understand aside. She felt as though the gentle voices and their tongue’s whispered sibilance washed her clean.
    Early one still evening, light northeasterlies carried faint drumming across the waters from the low red island. Laughter rose and fell. Evening stretched into night. The night was half gone when fresh bursts of drumming and high-pitched chant/song woke Sir Athol Gunn. Shortly after dawn, he petitioned Prince Henry.
    â€œThis red island should be explored.”
    â€œThe festivities may be sacred, Athol.” Henry knew his cousin’s fondness for dance and drink. “Let’s determine the nature of the fÍte before inviting ourselves.”
    Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk was not a shy man when it came to communication. It was soon established through gesture and repetition that the massive exodus to the red isle was occasion for both celebration and hard work. Its shores were rich with shellfish, its uninhabited interior rich with small game. The People perennially celebrated the first of the summer’s great collecting cycles on the island. When Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk came to understand Athol’s request (the great man was ham-fisted when it came to mime or gesture), he signed he’d be happy to lead Sir Athol across the strait, so long as he manned his own canoe and stayed down wind.
    Despite misgivings at what had passed between Eugainia and Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk at their first encounter, Henry had taken an immediate liking to the young warrior. Though standing alone, and in spite of himself, Henry laughed aloud when Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk in the sleek canoe swung back and paddled circles around Sir Athol Gunn. Sir Athol struggled to keep pace with Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk. Henry felt a rush of admiration when Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk sped ahead—all grace and power. He couldn’t decipher the details of Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk’s shouted good-natured challenge, though both he and Athol caught a whiff of mockery.
    Athol dug deep. He closed the distance. With no apparent effort, Mimk ɨ tawo’qu’sk stepped up his rhythm, and sped away as though propelled by a great wind under full sail.
    Eugainia advanced from strength to strength in Keswalqw’s care. As the days passed, the rudiments of a common vocabulary grew. Simple, direct, subject on occasion to speculation, and some verbal misadventure, their communion became efficient and intense. The best way to tell, they agreed at this stage of their acquaintance, was to show, say and then show again.
    From the top of the