005 - Tapestry Of Dark Souls by Tapestry Of Dark Souls

Author:Tapestry Of Dark Souls [Souls, Tapestry Of Dark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

There is life of a kind in the days between the full moons. I sense the passing of the seasons, the sunshine and the storms in the minds of the people around me. The boy’s dreams are dark and troubled, and that is good. Darkness will bring him to me. Soon he will be mine.

*****

Jon’s hunting skills easily surpassed those of any other youth in Linde. He had a gift for sitting so still his prey didn’t see him until the stone flew, for setting snares so perfect that even the most wary animal didn’t notice them. As a result, he didn’t have to work very hard to gain Andor’s praise. The inn’s food became plentiful and cheap and its smokehouse well-stocked for winter.

It was time to harvest the autumn grain. Jon joined the harvesters for awhile, but couldn’t find the right rhythm for the scythe or the strength to wield it for long. Though the village hunters commented derisively on his weakness, Jon welcomed the banter: the jeers held some friendliness he hadn’t detected before.

Linde townsfolk had never harvested so many bushels of grain and hay. Neither had they ever seen such ideal weather for the work, weather that held for the autumn goblin hunt and the harvest festival after.

Tents were erected outside the inn. Like the houses, they were white, bearing intricately painted flowers and vines on the walls and rain flaps. Brightly colored banners waved from the top of the center poles. Every family brought vases of flowers for the dining tables, their best casseroles and bakery to share, their crafts and weaving to sell. One of the inn’s hogs was butchered and roasted whole over a trench of smoking coals and damp herbs. Dirca basted it with onion butter and cloudberry jam until the hide was dark and crackling. Jon, raised by the ascetic Guardians, had never shared in such a bountiful feast.

After the village had eaten, the leftovers were piled on a single table to provide sustenance for the night’s revels. The dining tables were cleared from the town square to make room for musicians and dancing.

Jonathan had never danced before, but he couldn’t resist joining the others. The magnificent songs, the whirling revelers, and the touch of Sondra’s hands were more intoxicating than the Linde wine and cloudberry pies. As the night deepened, the harvest moon rose in the sky, its light competing with the mounted torches, throwing brilliant silver streaks around the golden puddles in the center of the town.

In the middle of the evening, Maeve made her first appearance. Jon had glimpsed her a few times and been startled by her beauty, but never as much as now. The silver streak in her hair was braided through a thin, golden chain. The rest fell loose over her shoulders. Her multi-colored skirts were long and gossamer, her blouse tight over her breasts. She had tiny cymbals attached to her fingers and bells on her ankles. As she walked barefooted through the crowd, everyone, women as well as men, paused to look at her.

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