October's Baby

Author:Glen Cook
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fiction
ISBN: 9780425045329
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 1980-03-01T08:00:00+00:00

NINE: Family Life

i) I'll wind from Itaskia

Elana didn't worry till Bragi had been gone a week. By the end of the second week she was frantic.

The third raid had left her all raw nerves, and Bevold, who had fallen days behind schedule, had become insufferable.

She spent much of her time watching her teardrop, till Gerda chided her for neglecting Ragnar and Gundar. She realized she was being foolish. Why did the women always have to wait?

One bright spot was Rolf. His chances looked better daily.

Came an afternoon when Ragnar, playing in the watchtower, shouted, "Ma, there's some men coming."

They were near enough to count. Six men. She recognized Uthe's and Dahl's mounts.

Despair seized her. "That bastard. That lying, craven son-of-a-bitch with a brain like sheep shit in shallow water trying to make it to dry land. He's let Haroun talk him into it. I'll kill him. I'll break every bone in his body and kill him!"

"Ma!"

Ragnar had never seen her like this.

"All right." She scooped him up and settled him on her hip. He laughed. "Let's go watch Uthe weasel."

She moved a chair to the porch and, with Ragnar and Gundar squirming in her lap, waited.

One glimpse of Uthe's face was enough. Bragi had gone chasing Haroun's dreams. She was so angry she just glared and waited.

Uthe approached reluctantly, shrugged and showed his palms in a gesture of defeat.

"Goodwife Ragnarson?" one of Haas's companions asked. She nodded.

"Captain Wilhusen, Staff, War Ministry. His Excellency offers his apologies and heartfelt condolences for any inconvenience caused by his calling your husband to active service."

Active service? They couldn't do that. Could they?

"Elana?"

She turned slightly, allowed another face to focus. "Turran! And Valther. What?..."

"We work for the army now. Kind of slid into it sideways."

"And Brock?" Her anger she ignored for the moment.

"Poisoned arrow in Escalon."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We've been dead for years. Just won't lie down."

"You'll see Nepanthe, won't you? She's been so worried."

"There'll be time to catch up. We'll be seeing a lot of each other."

"I don't understand. But come in. You must be tired and hungry."

"You've done well," said Turran, following her in.

"Bragi's worked hard. Too hard, sometimes. And we've had good people helping. It hasn't been easy."

"No doubt. I know what this country was like."

"Well, make yourselves comfortable. Captain. Valther. You. I didn't catch your name. I'm sorry."

"Sergeant Hunsicker, ma'am, with the Captain, and don't go to no bother on my account."

"No bother. Gerda, we've guests. Hungry guests." A moment later, "Some explanations, please," she demanded, unable to control her anger. "Where's my husband?"

"Captain, may I?" Turran asked. He received a nod. While he talked, Elana considered the changes four years had wrought. He was handsome as ever, but gray had crept into his raven hair, and he had lost a lot of weight. He was pale, looked weak, and at times shook as if suddenly chilly. When she asked about his health, he replied cryptically that, once again, this time in Escalon, they had chosen the losing side.

A shadow ghosted across Valther's face.

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