Deep Magic by Joy Nash

Author:Joy Nash
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 0505526832
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing Co.
Published: 2006-08-17T05:00:00+00:00

Rhys struggled to match his short strides to his father's long ones. Da did not like it when Rhys lagged behind. But when they reached the forum market, Da surprised Rhys by catching him around the waist and lifting him into the air. Rhys laughed aloud at the brief, heady feeling of weightlessness. It was almost as if he were rising into the air on bird's wings! An instant later, Rhys found himself on Da's broad shoulders, gazing out over the crowd.

His eyes widened as he clutched at Da's hair. He had to see everything, no matter how large or small, so he could describe it to Gwen. She'd been very angry to be stuck at home, helping Mared with the weaving.

It was her own fault, Rhys reflected. She shouldn't have run off into the fields last night after supper. For once, he hadn't let her talk him into joining her in disobeying Mama. But he had worried about her the entire time she'd been gone. Especially after Da had gone looking for her.

Da had whipped Gwen's arse soundly, but she hadn't cried even one tear. Rhys didn't know whether to be proud or envious. He would have bawled.

It was market day in Isca, and the merchant stalls were piled high with wares. Fruits and vegetables, cookware and pottery, livestock and clothing, fabric and jewelry. The market, a jumble of stalls squeezed between the fortress gates and the amphitheater, was packed to overflowing.

"Two Roman soldiers are shopping for boots," Rhys told Gwen in his mind.

"I hate soldiers," his sister replied.

"A Roman matron is frowning over some blue glassware," he reported. Glass was very costly. He'd never touched it. Was it cold, like the ice it resembled?

"How many slaves does the matron have with her?" Gwen wanted to know.

"Two. A maid and a lad to carry packages."

He told Gwen about two patricians coming out of the barber's shop, their chins scraped clean. They were wearing short white togas and their limbs looked like chicken legs. Gwen giggled.

Rhys thought the Celt women, in their colorful plaid and checkered tunics, were much prettier than the Roman women in their pale stolae. Gwen agreed.

Da turned down the aisle leading to the stall where Mama sold the blankets she and Mared and Aunt Carys wove. Rhys loved climbing the piles of soft, colorful wool. But it was more fun climbing with Gwen. Everything was more fun with Gwen.

"I wish ye were here," he told her.

"Me, too," she sighed.

They were nearly at Mama's stall when Da stopped so abruptly Rhys nearly pitched over his head. He clutched Da's ears, suddenly pierced with fear. Da had gone still, the muscles in his shoulders tensing until they were hard as rocks.

Angry. Da was angry.

Had Rhys done something wrong? Or maybe forgotten to do something he was supposed to do? He racked his brain, but could not think of a single thing. And Da seemed to have forgotten all about him, so it was probably not Rhys who had angered him.

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