Dreaming the Bull by Manda Scott

Author:Manda Scott [Scott, Manda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, _rt_yes, _NB_fixed, onlib
ISBN: 9780307365798
Publisher: Knopf Canada
Published: 2004-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

“Breaca? Breaca, wake up.” The night was dark, with no moon. In her dreams, Caradoc slew both Scapula and the pied decurion and rode back to her with their heads wrapped in his cloak as a gift. Delivered to Mona, the head of the decurion had become that of Amminios, Caradoc’s older brother who had sided with Rome. It sang in Latin and mocked her, promising vengeance for a death in which she had taken no part.

“Breaca? Can you hear me?”

She stirred, glad to escape the dream. In the half-world of waking, she knew that her daughter suckled her left breast and should be moved to the right and that cool fingers gripped her wrist, firmly. With some thought, she recognized Airmid’s touch; it was how they had always woken each other. Sleep-sodden, she opened her eyes.

“Caradoc?” she asked. “Has he won?”

“I don’t know.” Airmid stood at the bedside, shapeless in her cloak, her hair black to merge with the night. “There’s a messenger waiting on the far side of the strait. I’ve sent Sorcha with the ferry to bring him over. I thought you might want to greet him.”

I thought you might want to … I have seen you force yourself to eat these past three days for your child’s sake when your body would have refused food for worry, and I have watched you walk the slopes above the strait from dawn to dusk that you might see a messenger riding down the far mountain and know the message that much sooner.

The promise of news brought her awake, and Graine with her. The child gurned and fell silent, feeding. Airmid fetched a torch and lit it from the fire. Breaca followed her along the path to the jetty where the ferry would put in. Rain, the young hound who was son to Hail, ran ahead, snuffing the night; all day he had been restless and was better out. At the standing stone on the hillside, they stopped, looking down onto the straits below. The barest outline of the ferry was visible, a sleek shape sliding black on black like a hunting otter. The backwash of the steering oar stirred green light from the water behind, a gift of the sea god Manannan to fishers and ferrywomen that they might see and be seen. The wind blew briskly from the north, lifting the tidal swell. In the quiet of the night, they heard the sound of retching and the soft consternation that followed from Sorcha who could not understand that her beloved sea might cause some to feel ill.

The ferry reached them. Wood bumped lightly on wood and a rope was made fast. Sorcha stepped ashore and turned to offer a hand to her passenger. “This is Lythas,” she said. “Venutios has sent him with a message.” And then, redundantly, “He’s been sick.’

Torchlight showed a small, neat young man of Ardacos’ build, who had, indeed, been sick although that was only the latest hardship in his recent past and not the greatest.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.