The Hills of Home (The Song of the Ash Tree Book 2) by T L Greylock

Author:T L Greylock
Language: ara
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Grass Crown Press
Published: 2016-06-10T06:00:00+00:00

For four days Raef lingered in his chamber, drinking Aldrif’s painkilling brew, the sun shut out by heavy blankets Raef had ordered draped across the window. Isolf visited often at first, bringing matters to Raef’s attention so he might fulfill his duties as lord of Vannheim. Engvorr, the shipbuilder, wanted to consult Raef on plans to refurbish one of the older longships. A pair of farmers trekked from their lands east of the Vestrhall to ask Raef to settle a dispute over a trade they had made. Ulli, the steward, wanted to know if Raef wished to sell excess wool to a trader from Danewyll or store it for the Vestrhall’s weavers. Raef refused to see them. Once, he asked to see Finnolf Horsebreaker, the young captain, but Isolf could only tell him that Finnolf was away from the hall and had not said when he would return. Raef thought of Vakre, Eira, and Siv and wondered if they knew he lived. Isolf could tell him nothing of them. When the sun dropped below the sea on the second day and Isolf came to Raef’s chamber, Raef sent him away with no more than a word. Isolf did not return the next day or the day after and Raef found he did not care.

His stomach grew stronger, prompting Aldrif to bring him bread, then tender bits of meat, but he made no attempt to test his leg. She was his only visitor and she began to speak less and less, though sometimes she lingered and worked a piece of embroidery with thread and needle while he slept. On the morning of the fifth day, she brought a small meal and began to leave as quietly as she had come but Raef stopped her.

“You have forgotten the medicine. For the pain.”

“I did not forget, lord.” She watched him from the door, deep brown eyes clear and determined.

“Please bring it.” Raef flushed at the strain in his voice, the need.

“No. You have had enough.”

“And if I demand it?”

Aldrif did not waver. “I would refuse.”

The flush spread and Raef’s stomach clenched in anger. “You wish to see me suffer?”

“I will not watch you drown in it.”

Raef opened his mouth to rail against her, but nothing came out and the anger fled in the wake of his exhaled breath. He leaned back in the bed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Aldrif was sitting on the edge of the bed and Raef was suddenly aware of the disheveled blankets he lay in, his shaking hands, the smell of dried sweat on his skin, and the odor spreading from the chamber pot, poorly masked by sprigs of dried lavender and mint.

“Do you love Vannheim, Raef?” She had not called him by his name in all the time she had been tending him. Raef could remember her as a child, older by five years, quiet and confident. Seldom had she joined in the games the younger children played and Raef could only remember her using his name to scold him.

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