Read Online Year of the Unicorn by Andre Norton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Andre Norton
Ads: Link
pointed chin, and were matched in outline by his thick black hair which peaked on his forehead. He was neither handsome nor unhandsome by human standard, merely very different.
Though his head was bare of war-helm he wore a byrnie of chain-link, supple by his easy movements within its casing. This reached to midthigh and beneath it breeches, close fitting, of furred hide, a silvery fur shorter in the hair than the pelt which had taken my fancy at the tent though still of the same nature. His feet were booted, but also in furred leather, their colour being a shade or two the darker than his breeks. About his slender waist was a belt of some soft material, fastened by a large clasp in which were set odd milky gems.
Thus did I face for the first time Herrel of the Were Riders, whose cast cloak I had gathered to me, though not through the same weave spell as intended.
"My-my lord?" I used the address courteous, since he did not seem disposed to break the silence between us.
He smiled, almost wryly.
"My lady." he returned and there was a kind of mockery in his voice, but I did not feel it was turned upon me. "It would seem that I have woven better than was deemed possible, since that is my cloak you bring." He reached out and took it from me. "I am Herrel," he named himself as he shook out the folds of cloth and fur.
"I am Gillan." I made answer, and then was at a loss as to what was expected of me. For my planning had not reached, even in fancy, beyond this point.
"Welcome, Gillan-"
Herrel swung out the cloak and brought it smoothly about my shoulders so that it covered me, from throat almost to the ground now lost in the mist.
"Thus do I claim you, Gillan-it being your wish?"
There was no mistaking the question in those last words. If this be some form of ceremony, then he was leaving me a chance of withdrawal. But I was committed now to this course.
"It is my wish, Herrel."
He stood very still as if awaiting something more, I knew not what. And then he leaned a little towards me and asked, more sharply than he had yet spoken:
"What lies about your shoulders, Gillan?"
"A cloak of grey and brown and fur-"
It was as if he caught his breath in a swift gasp.
"And in me what do you see, Gillan?"
"A man young and still not young, wearing chain mail and furred clothing, with a belt about him buckled with silver and milk white stones, with black hair on his head-"
My words dropped one by one into a pool of quiet which was ominous. His hand came out and took from my head the bride's veil, so swiftly and with such a jerk that it dislodged the pinning of my braids, so they loosened and fell upon my back and shoulders over the cloak he had set about me as a seal.
"Who are you?" His demand came with some of the same heat as Lord Imgry had shown at our night meeting.
"I am Gillan, beyond that I do not know." The truth I gave him because even then I knew that the truth was his right. "A war captive from overseas, fostered among the Dales of High Hallack, and come here by my own will."
He had dropped the veil into the mist, now his fingers moved in the air between us, sketching, I believe, some sign. There was a faint trail of light left by their moving so. But the smile was gone from his mouth and now he wore a battle-ready face.
"Cloak-bound we are-and there is no chance in that, only destiny. But this I ask of you, Gillan, if the double sight is yours-see with the outer eyes only for this while-there is danger in any other path."
I did not know how to regain the less from the greater, but I tried fumblingly to see green grass under my feet, colour about me. And there was a period of one wavering upon the other, then I stood with rippling splendour about me, green-blue hung with crystal droplets. And Herrel wore a different face more akin to that of human-kind and strongly handsome-yet I found it in me to like his other guise the
Though his head was bare of war-helm he wore a byrnie of chain-link, supple by his easy movements within its casing. This reached to midthigh and beneath it breeches, close fitting, of furred hide, a silvery fur shorter in the hair than the pelt which had taken my fancy at the tent though still of the same nature. His feet were booted, but also in furred leather, their colour being a shade or two the darker than his breeks. About his slender waist was a belt of some soft material, fastened by a large clasp in which were set odd milky gems.
Thus did I face for the first time Herrel of the Were Riders, whose cast cloak I had gathered to me, though not through the same weave spell as intended.
"My-my lord?" I used the address courteous, since he did not seem disposed to break the silence between us.
He smiled, almost wryly.
"My lady." he returned and there was a kind of mockery in his voice, but I did not feel it was turned upon me. "It would seem that I have woven better than was deemed possible, since that is my cloak you bring." He reached out and took it from me. "I am Herrel," he named himself as he shook out the folds of cloth and fur.
"I am Gillan." I made answer, and then was at a loss as to what was expected of me. For my planning had not reached, even in fancy, beyond this point.
"Welcome, Gillan-"
Herrel swung out the cloak and brought it smoothly about my shoulders so that it covered me, from throat almost to the ground now lost in the mist.
"Thus do I claim you, Gillan-it being your wish?"
There was no mistaking the question in those last words. If this be some form of ceremony, then he was leaving me a chance of withdrawal. But I was committed now to this course.
"It is my wish, Herrel."
He stood very still as if awaiting something more, I knew not what. And then he leaned a little towards me and asked, more sharply than he had yet spoken:
"What lies about your shoulders, Gillan?"
"A cloak of grey and brown and fur-"
It was as if he caught his breath in a swift gasp.
"And in me what do you see, Gillan?"
"A man young and still not young, wearing chain mail and furred clothing, with a belt about him buckled with silver and milk white stones, with black hair on his head-"
My words dropped one by one into a pool of quiet which was ominous. His hand came out and took from my head the bride's veil, so swiftly and with such a jerk that it dislodged the pinning of my braids, so they loosened and fell upon my back and shoulders over the cloak he had set about me as a seal.
"Who are you?" His demand came with some of the same heat as Lord Imgry had shown at our night meeting.
"I am Gillan, beyond that I do not know." The truth I gave him because even then I knew that the truth was his right. "A war captive from overseas, fostered among the Dales of High Hallack, and come here by my own will."
He had dropped the veil into the mist, now his fingers moved in the air between us, sketching, I believe, some sign. There was a faint trail of light left by their moving so. But the smile was gone from his mouth and now he wore a battle-ready face.
"Cloak-bound we are-and there is no chance in that, only destiny. But this I ask of you, Gillan, if the double sight is yours-see with the outer eyes only for this while-there is danger in any other path."
I did not know how to regain the less from the greater, but I tried fumblingly to see green grass under my feet, colour about me. And there was a period of one wavering upon the other, then I stood with rippling splendour about me, green-blue hung with crystal droplets. And Herrel wore a different face more akin to that of human-kind and strongly handsome-yet I found it in me to like his other guise the
Similar Books
