Tower of Ravens by Kate Forsyth

Author:Kate Forsyth [Forsyth, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction, General, Magic, Animals, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy - General, Epic, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, English Science Fiction And Fantasy, Witches, Horses, PETS, Nature, Science Fiction; Fantasy; Magic, Fantasy fiction; Australian
ISBN: 9780451460325
Publisher: Roc
Published: 2005-06-06T23:00:00+00:00

Witches of the Coven were even more relaxed in their attitudes. If Lewen decided to stay with the Coven, he could do as he pleased, as long as his affairs did not cause too much disruption. The Yeomen did not have the same freedom.

Dillon of the Joyous Sword kept very strict discipline and would frown on any amorous indiscretion. Particularly one with a wild half-satyricorn who was suspected of being implicated in the murder of a Yeoman of the Guard. Lewen could not imagine it helping his career prospects.

Lewen would never have kissed Rhiannon if he had not spent the last few hours at the very extremities, fighting for his life and facing death squarely in the face. She had not seemed to mind. She had kissed him as passionately, opening her mouth to his, pulling him closer with an urgent hand, curling her body into his. The memory of it was enough to make hot blood flood Lewenas groin. He stifled a groan and shifted in the saddle, glancing sideways at her cool patrician profile. She did not glance back.

On and on the horses plodded with hanging heads, following the swaying lantern at the back of the caravans. They came out of the false dusk of the wood into the true dusk of the sinking sun, the sky behind them flaming with brilliant reds and oranges that slowly faded to crimson, and then to pink and at last to violet, as they rode through unfilled fields, past abandoned crofts and ruined cottages, all gaping open to the wind and rain.

On and on they rode in the darkness, till Landon was asleep on the bench, the reins flapping loose, and Rhiannon and the boys were jerking about on the backs of their horses, only kept awake by the cold rain trickling down their necks.

Then the jongleursa caravans ground to a halt. Lewen, jolted awake by the cessation of movement, looked up, rubbing his eyes. They had come to a gate in a high wall, topped with upright shards of glass that glinted in the light of the lanterns. Inside the wall was a steep, peaked roof, and a low window from which candlelight shone, welcoming and warm, and the soft sound of voices.

Shivering in their damp cloaks, the boys watched hopefully as Iven climbed down from the caravan and went up to hammer on the gate. Lewen smelt wood-smoke on the breeze and something delicious that made saliva spring in his mouth. He had not realised he was hungry.

At the sound of Ivenas fist, the faint murmur of voices faded away. Iven hammered louder. There was no response. At last he cried out angrily, For pityas sake, open the gate! We have an injured girl here and we are all exhausted. Please, let us in!aۥ There was an exclamation and then a swift exchange of low voices. Then they heard a soft, cautious step, and a man said, Whoas there? What do you want?aۥ Just shelter for the night,aۥ Iven said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion.

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