Tales of Telenia: THRESHOLD by Lorraine Bartlett

Author:Lorraine Bartlett [Bartlett, Lorraine]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Polaris Press
Published: 2012-07-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

Wren was still asleep when Brannan left for the Summer Palace the next morning. He declined Amanda’s offer of breakfast. His eyes were troubled and his shoulders slumped as he headed back to the palace. Would he tell Paxdon that they’d failed … that continued failure seemed inevitable? She hated to think about it. More than anything, Amanda wanted to prove to Paxdon that she and Wren were worthy of respect—shining examples of what women in Telenia could accomplish if given half a chance.

As she feared, feeding the sarpal was as difficult as Amanda had believed it would be. She thanked the stars above for her military training. Without it, she was sure she never would have survived the day or its gruesome tasks. She donned heavy gloves and emptied the traps—grabbing the barzol by the scruff of the neck. She remembered the tales her grandfather had told her about the American Indians and their understanding of the universe. They revered all life and believed that everything had a purpose—and that life gets recycled. The spirit of the animal that fed the sarpal would live on through the spider, whose silk would be woven into cloth to help keep Wren’s lover safe … and then he, in turn, would protect his people from harm. It sounded good in theory, but she could not bear to watch the huge spider incapacitate the furry animal and then devour it, either.

Amanda returned from emptying the trap in Brannan’s neighbor’s garden, fed the sarpal once more, and found Wren back at her loom. Amanda puttered around the house, cleaning and dusting the long-neglected rooms for an hour or so but finally interrupted Wren. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry,” the witch replied without missing a beat in the rhythmic work.

Amanda touched her arm, causing Wren to stop. “You need to eat, and I won’t take no for an answer.”

Wren frowned. “Very well. Make a pot of tea and I’ll take a break as soon as it’s ready.”

While the water heated, Amanda cut up yet another melon and had set a place for Wren by the time the tea was ready. She poured a cup for herself, as well. It wasn’t the brew she was used to back home, but in a few short weeks she’d come to enjoy it and the feeling of wellbeing she derived from drinking it.

Wren took a seat at the kitchen’s small table and helped herself to a piece of fruit.

“Tell me about your betrothed,” Amanda said, holding her tea mug in both hands. She blew across the top of the cup to cool the steaming liquid.

Wren’s eyes widened with delight, a joyous smile spreading across her lips. “Mitmer is the kindest, most generous man I have ever known.”

Amanda found herself wondering if Wren had a clue how fiercely Brannan loved her. She could see it, but somehow doubted the young witch had ever noticed.

“Tell me more,” Amanda encouraged.

“There aren’t many who would even look at a wretched thing like me, but Mitmer saw beyond my tattered clothes and accepted me for who I am.

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