A Sacred Storm by Theodore Brun

Author:Theodore Brun
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atlantic Books

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

‘Come on, come on! Anyone would think you’d never made a fire before,’ Saldas snapped.

‘Sorry, my lady.’ The girl’s ruddy cheeks coloured redder.

The price of discretion: enduring a thrall so dim she’d hardly notice if her hair was on fire. Well, she wouldn’t have to suffer such irritations much longer.

From horseback, Saldas had watched the thrall-girl’s fumbling efforts at arranging rocks to frame a small fire, then lay the wood and kindling, and after an age, get the firesteel sparks to catch.

‘Good,’ she said, the flames at last crackling to life. ‘Now help me down.’

The servant scurried over and saw her safely to the ground. Nearby her children were squabbling. ‘Take them downstream a little... ugh, what’s your name again?’

‘Glamvor, my lady.’

‘Glamvor. Take them as far as that inlet. They can paddle, but not above their knees.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

‘I shall call when I wish to leave.’

‘Very good, my lady.’ And off this Glamvor scuttled, scooping up Svein and Katla with her. Saldas waited until they were a little distance away before she opened her pouch, carefully extracted the contents and unfolded its covering.

The heart had a good weight to it. It glistened, even in the drab light. The huntsman had done well. It can’t have been an easy kill. A wolf never was. But this one must have been well on in years, perhaps even a pack-leader.

All to the good. The more blood the wolf had tasted, the better.

She took out the flat stone that had been weighing down her robes since the halls and laid the heart upon it. Then, unsheathing her knife, she cut the meat into three portions and lay them in readiness on the cloth to one side. Then she placed the stone inside the ring of rocks near the heart of the fire to soak up its heat.

That done, she waited.

The others would be here soon.

Downstream, her children were splashing in the shallows, their laughter tinkling across the surface of the water. She went to the river’s edge, scooped up a handful of water and let it cool her lips, her eyes shifting about her.

Along the far bank a row of oaks rose straight and tall. Beneath them, the water flowed past smooth as a mirror until the mossy rocks below the ford shattered its surface into a thousand shivers. At the foot of the oaks, thick roots spilled thirstily into the water, writhing over each other like serpents.

She wiped her lips, listening to the water rush over the smooth-worn rocks. A sound with no beginning. Nor any end... Outside of time, far beyond the span of her life. Beyond even the span of her imagination—

She snorted. The water might have the whole of time to work its will on these rocks. As for her, she had to work a little faster.

She heard the thud of hooves and, looking up, saw two horsemen approaching on the far side of the river. She glanced at the stone in the fire and noted with satisfaction the glow to its edges.

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