Francis Dawnmaid (Song of the Arkafina, #3)

1. Auflage 2008
ISBN: 978-1-84319-388-3
Verlag: Mushroom eBooks
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 308 Seiten

Reihe: Song of the Arkafina

Gwenn and Gunnar travel to Khalama to fulfill a last request, but when they arrive, nothing is as it seems. For one thing, the man whose lifeless body they faithfully transported, Arkady Svalbarad, turns out not to be dead after all. And his old teacher, Dawa Tinley, is strangely absentminded. When Gunnar disappears, Gwenn has to make the best of her situation, so she turns once more to Arkady. The consequences of their union will bring both mortal peril and new hope to the peoples of Yrth.
Katkin and Huw have holed up in an old farmhouse for the winter, but the addition of two children to their family has left Katkin feeling trapped and miserable. After Huw is arrested for a terrible crime, she must decide whether to run, or stand by his side. When Katkin is reunited with an old love, the choice becomes even more difficult, until a betrayal and a chance meeting steer her to the right path. When she finally arrives on Starruthe, she is just in time to help Gwenn with the baby, but is it too late for Gunnar? Only Gwenn and keth'fell can save him now.
When the Dawnmaid comes into the world, it will take a miracle to hide her from Maggrai, who has come back from the future with a weapon of total annihilation. But Gunnar also has a secret weapon, though he is loath to use it. Will he come to terms with his true identity in time to protect the Dawnmaid from Maggrai's wrath?
Contains adult themes.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Francis, Suzanne

Leseproben

Chapter two
Methuit Sequent
He is lost. Ben’aryn has wandered too long, and too far in that all-encompassing darkness. His mind has no more thoughts of self and substance. He drifts, dreamily, like an unmoored sailboat on a flat, black sea. Then they come, and pull him back from the brink of dissolution. * * * * When Huw Adaryi first spied the familiar green caravans he raced forward with a cry of joy. His people, the Firaithi, were camped by the Sharm River, close to the ford that marked the boundary between Mardon and Secuny. Huw had been searching for them for many weeks, with his companion, the former Queen of Beaumarais, Katrione du Chesne Benet. She rode behind him, on their horse, Ajax. Katkin hung back as he approached the circle of caravans, nervously wondering how well Huw’s Kindred would receive her. A woman, shabbily dressed, was the first to notice the approaching figures. As Huw shouted a stream of Firai, she hurried forward, drying her hands on her apron. Katkin watched as the two embraced warmly. Suddenly the caravans emptied and three dozen people, mostly women and children, surrounded Huw. A tall man stepped forward, with his arms extended, crying, “Huw! The moon gives you greeting. By the Un-Named One, you come back to us! I believed you had perished on the ship of those cursed slavers. How did you escape, my brother?” Huw smiled broadly. “And I thought you might be dead as well, Padarn. We have many stories to tell, it seems. May we share your fire?” “We? Who is your companion, Huw?” Padarn peered over at Katkin, who had dismounted from Ajax, but still hung back, waiting for Huw to introduce her. Huw walked to stand beside Katkin. “You know her already. This is Katrione Benet, of the Kindred of Anandi.” Padarn stared at the petite woman before him. She had long, wavy chestnut hair and striking green eyes. Her left arm ended just below the elbow, but she wore a cunning wooden prosthesis, shaped like a hand, with jointed fingers that could be locked into any position by sliding a switch on the back of the wrist. “The ex-Queen of Beaumarais? Can it be true she belongs to one of our Kindreds?” Padarn still used the Firai tongue, thinking that Katkin wouldn’t understand him. “She is a dangerous friend, Huw. Her son, King Tristan, has placed a high price on her head. You would be well-advised to send her on her way alone. But you, of course, will share our fire and reclaim your rightful place as our Tane,[2] now that your father has crossed through Tsmar’enth.[3]“ Katkin could speak Firai well, but she thought that it might not be wise to let these secretive people know she understood their language, so she merely said in Maraison, “What does he say, Huw? He doesn’t look very happy to see us.” Huw spoke softly to Padarn in Firai. “Have a care, my brother, for I love this woman, and I would not send her away, even if the price was all the gold in Yr. If she cannot share the fire of our Kindred, then I will not stay either.” Padarn looked very distressed at this. Suddenly, one of the women screamed, pointing at Katkin, “That is her! The mother of the one they call the Faircrow. I have seen her picture nailed up on nearly every tree. The one-armed traitor of Beaumarais. She helped that murdering Gruagá[4] bitch escape.” Katkin knew she could not explain her actions without giving away her knowledge of Firai, so she remained silent and stared at the ground. Now Huw stepped in front of Katkin and drew his short curved blade. Padarn raised his hand for silence, and the group of Firaithi fell back. He spoke quietly. “Huw Adaryi, do you intend to protect this enemy of the Kindreds?” Huw nodded grimly. Padarn sighed. “Then you leave me no choice. I must banish you from the Kindred of Chandrathi. We mourn your passing, Huw. You must leave now, or I cannot be responsible for the actions of the rest of my brothers and sisters. Go at once and never return.” Under his breath, he whispered to Huw, “Camp on the other side of that belt of trees. I will come and speak with you, after the moon rises.” Huw and Katkin retreated into the shelter of the willows by the Sharm River ford. Huw, depressed by his unexpected banishment, set up camp in silence. Later, as Katkin stirred a pot of vegetable soup over the fire, he pulled a wooden flute from his pack and played a mournful air. She listened until the last note had died away, and then said, “That song is so beautiful. I wish I could still make music. I had an old vielle that my father taught me to play, but the Guard destroyed it when they burned down our house. Jacq said he would make me another, with a special crank I could use with my artificial hand. But he was always so busy with blacksmithing that he never did.” She sighed regretfully. “It is too late now.” “Then I will build you one. When we find somewhere to live.” He added disappointedly, “I counted on our being able to shelter with my Kindred over the winter. Soon the weather will grow too cold for us to sleep out of doors. Perhaps we should head further South — into Spanja or perhaps to Shadion. It is always warm there, and they will not be looking for you.”  “We should just split up.” Katkin said glumly. “Then you could go back to your Kindred, Huw. You should not have been banished for my sake.” A curious low whistle from within the trees interrupted Huw’s response. Huw cupped his hands over his mouth and echoed the sound several times, and then Padarn stepped into the ring of firelight. He squatted and accepted a bowl of soup while apologizing, in Maraison, for the Kindred’s quick judgment against Katkin. “If it were up to me, I would allow you to stay. Your dealings with our Kindred were always fair and respectful. But many who lost loved ones the day your daughter’s men attacked cannot forgive your actions in helping her escape. They will never allow you to join our Kindred.” Huw asked, “Why is it you now risk their wrath to speak with us? I have been exiled.” Padarn answered quietly, “Because Gwenn Faircrow allowed my wife and daughters to go free, rather than selling them as slaves to the Haba. For that I owe her a boon. So I came to warn you of something.” His voice filled Katkin with foreboding, and she shivered. Huw wrapped a blanket over her shoulders and she hugged it gratefully. “Of what would you warn us, my brother? We met no danger in our travels from the coast of Danica.” In fact their passage had been exceptionally quiet, and Katkin had remarked more than once about the lack of people and traffic on the back roads they traveled. The tall Firaithi ran his hands through his graying hair. His voice dropped to a whisper. “We who follow asparitus[5] observe things the settled peoples do not. The travels of men and horses, the rape of the land — the Kindreds know of these things well before others learn of them. Now we see troops massing on the borders of Secuny and Spanja, secretly gathering arms and ammunition. Also food and supplies for many men — a mighty army.” Katkin looked at him fearfully. “Who... Who leads this army?” Padarn sighed. “Your son, King Tristan of Beaumarais. We believe he intends to conquer all of Yr, one country at a time, with this new army he is raising. He calls them the Black Guard.” Katkin gave a cry and put her hand over her mouth, then turned away in anguish. Huw looked at her before beginning to speak rapidly in a low voice to Padarn. He spoke in Firai, thinking she would not understand. “Then the Firaithi will soon be in even greater danger, my brother. That Gruagá spawn will begin hunting down all the Kindreds ere long. He will not want us roaming free, exchanging information on his movements. We will be a threat to any plan of conquest he has undertaken.” He spat into the fire, and it hissed angrily. “Curse him to Revenna and beyond. Why can the Gruagán[6] not leave us alone?” Katkin turned back and gave Huw an unhappy look, but he did not see. Padarn nodded. “I fear you speak the truth. The Chandrathi plan to keep moving south, mostly by night, and try to attract as little attention as possible. We will cross the border at the highest pass, where there will be few guards posted. Eventually, I hope we will be able to reach Bryn Mirain[7], and then continue even further south — into Shadion. It will not be easy. Food is growing ever scarcer. King Tristan has many men abroad. They have threatened some of the farmers in our Catena[8] already.” Huw said firmly in Maraison, “Katkin, Padarn says we must head south at once.” Padarn said, “Hold on, Huw. If you intend to travel with her, then you must avoid the borders, at least for now. We have seen drawings of the former queen’s face posted in every guardhouse between here and Spanja. They are looking hard for her. You will never make it through Beaumarais.” “What other choice do we have? We cannot stay here and freeze.” Katkin said again, “Let me go on alone. You will be in less danger with your own people.” He took her by the shoulders and shook her. “No! Do not suggest such a thing. I won’t leave you and that is final.” Padarn said quietly, “I have an idea that might be of some use to you. You know Brunner’s place?” Huw nodded and explained to Katkin, “Jakob Brunner is a farmer. He is one of the few people we can trust unimpeachably,...