Read Online To the High Redoubt by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Free Book Online

me.”
    She knew four of the words he said—wood, fire, you, me—and decided that she would be warm soon.
    As Arkady unsaddled his gelding, he took his blanket and handed it to her. “You look chilly. Wrap up in this.” He was getting more used to talking to her, and much of the frustration he had felt at the beginning was gone. Once he had set the saddle on the ground, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “There.”
    â€œBlanket,” she said, fingering it. “Fire.”
    â€œWarm,” he corrected her. “Blanket warm.”
    â€œWarm,” she said and stood beside the bay while Arkady hobbled him.
    â€œI’ll be back shortly,” he said, and went off in search of wood, grateful that it was still light enough to make the task simple. He brought the wood back to Surata so that she could lay the fire and went to find a few more branches so that they could keep the fire built up at night. The air was already chilly, and he knew they would need to provide more heat than the blanket alone would give them.
    â€œFire?” Surata asked when Arkady returned.
    â€œIn a moment.” He took flint and steel from his wallet, unwrapped them and struck a spark. As she blew on the kindling, he shook his head. “I don’t know how you do that.”
    â€œWarm. Hands warm,” she explained. Then, with the first blaze going, she turned to him. “Surata hungry. Grain-food and fruit-food and cheese.”
    â€œSounds good to me,” Arkady agreed.
    â€œGood.” She clapped her hands. “Fast. Arkady-immai make fast.”
    â€œJust as soon as I kill a rabbit or a bird.” he promised her. “I’ll get the grain out and you can start making gruel. Or we can toast bread if you’d like that better. I’ll put some cheese on the bread and we can have it that way.” He did not want to admit that he was getting very tired of gruel.
    â€œGood food,” she said. “Make good food, bread and cheese.”
    â€œAll right,” he said. “Shortly.” He took his bow and strung it, choosing three arrows. He hoped that the next time they found a market town, there would be a fletcher who would sell him more arrows.
    When he returned to the fire, the sun was down and Surata was contentedly eating a few dates. “Arkady-immai,” she called out through the dates. “Here!”
    â€œI’m coming,” he answered. He had already gutted and skinned the rabbit he had shot, and it needed only the spit for cooking. “I’ve got food.”
    â€œFood here,” she said, a bit puzzled.
    â€œThis is other food, meat-food.” He came to the fire and found a long, thin stick that would serve for a spit. While the rabbit broiled, he cut cheese and put it on the hard bread, then set these on small rocks near the fire so that the cheese could melt.
    â€œGood food,” Surata declared as she had the first of the toasted bread-and-cheese. “More.”
    Laughing, Arkady gave her another but warned her, “Leave some room for the rabbit.”
    To his surprise, she shook her head. “Meat-food not good. Surata make cheese- and fruit-food.”
    Arkady looked at her. “Meat-food is fine, Surata. It’s rabbit.”
    â€œNot good,” she told him more firmly. “Arkady-immai make meat-food, good. Not good Surata make meat-food.” She held out her hand for some more toasted cheese.
    â€œDon’t you eat meat?” he asked, recalling some of the monks he had met who had given up meat for the sake of their souls and to honor God’s creatures.
    â€œNot good meat-food,” she said, taking another bite of the bread-and-cheese. “Here good, Arkady-immai.”
    Arkady shook his head slowly. “You can have more bread-and-cheese if that’s what you want, but I’m going to have the meat, if it’s all the same to you.” He touched the spit and gave