Bridge of D'Arnath 04 - Daughter of Ancients by Berg Carol

Author:Berg, Carol [Berg, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

skidded over it, and tickled my nose when I lay still, fighting to get air into

my burning chest before the whole world went dark.

"Aimee, is that you?" a woman called from across the room. She sounded as

breathless as I felt, as if she'd been running. "What's going on here?"

Small hard objects clattered onto a hard floor from another direction entirely.

"My lady, what's wrong? And who else is here?" This was another woman. Younger.

"Someone's come through the garden door, my lady, one or two people, but they've

not spoken, so I don't know who they are."

Who else is here ... a good question. Whose house was this? Whose knees were

digging relentlessly into my back?

I had ridden down from Gaelie as hard as poor Pesca could run and flown to this

place as mindlessly as a hummingbird streaks for a scarlet saber-flower. But in

my fever to get inside\a151a fever as terrifying as it was inexplicable\a151I bumbled

over a garden wall and tripped over a step. Long arms had wrapped themselves

around me, and no matter how hard I fought and scratched and kicked, they would

not let go until we were inside, and they had deposited me on this floor.

The person kneeling on my back snatched away the dry wad of leather I'd clutched

for the past six hours and was futilely trying to hide under my breast. I felt a

sharp jerking movement, and then a hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and bent my

neck backward almost to breaking. "I'll kill you. By the Holy Twins, if you've

harmed so much as a hair on him, I'll kill you."

"Paulo, who is this?" asked the first woman, the older of the two.

"It's a god-cursed thieving assassin is my guess." Mercifully, he let my head

drop before my scalp tore, and then lifted his weight from my back. When he

shoved a boot into my middle and rolled me onto my back, I didn't have enough

breath to resist.

"Could we have a light, Aimee?" asked the woman.

"Of course! I'm so sorry."

Yellow light blossomed from someone's fingertips and sprang like a stray bit of

lightening to one lamp on the wall and then another. The high ceiling was

painted with a scene of a forest glade. I wished I were in that peaceful,

uncomplicated place. Paulo, the woman had said. The skinny friend from the

Gaelie guesthouse. I should have known. I shifted my gaze to the bony face

hovering somewhere between my battered body and the painted forest. His

expression was nothing I wanted to see on someone whose heavy boots were a

handsbreadth from my face.

Where was I? And what in the name of sense was I doing here? A nasty creeping

sensation fluttered deep in my head, like a moth that had been stuck there

squirming itself free and flying away.

"I've found this lot\a151a damnable sneaking woman"\a151 he was surprised at

that\a151"creeping about the garden." Paulo gave my legs a shove with his boot.

"She'll be dead if she can't explain herself."

Far across the room a tall, striking woman of middle years pulled off her cloak

and threw it aside. The young Lord's mother, no mistaking it.

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