Gemmell, David - Drenai - 05 by Gemmell David

Author:Gemmell, David [Gemmell, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-06-12T12:21:07+00:00

eaten for a week.

‘Merlon churned the butter,’ said Glendrin, sitting down at the table.

‘But I’ll wager he ate half of it.’

‘You have flour in your beard,’ Ekodas pointed out. ‘It makes you look older than time.’

Glendrin grinned and rubbed his hand across the red trident beard.

‘You think the woman was sent?’ he asked.

Ekodas shrugged. ‘If she was she came to haunt me,’ he answered.

Glendrin chuckled. ‘You’ll need those ten blessings Merlon promised you,’ he said, wagging a finger at his friend. ‘Carnal thoughts are a sin!’

‘How do you deal with them?’ asked Ekodas.

Glendrin’s smile faded. ‘I don’t,’he admitted. ‘Now let us get on.’

Together they prepared the cheese, drew fresh water from the well, and carried the food through to the dining-hall, setting out the plates and cutlery, jugs and goblets.

Then Ekodas prepared a tray of bread and cheese for Shia, feeling his excitement rise at the prospect of seeing her once more. ‘I cannot find the apple juice,’ he told Glendrin.

‘We finished it yesterday.’

‘But I promised her some.’

Glendrin shook his head. ‘Then I would imagine she will despise you for the rest of your life,’ said the redheaded priest.

‘Fool!’ replied Ekodas, placing a jug of water and a clay goblet upon the tray.

‘Do not be too long with her,’ advised Glendrin. Ekodas did not reply.

Leaving the heat of the kitchen he climbed the cold stone stairwell and made his way to Shia’s room. Balancing the

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tray on his left arm he opened the door. The Nadir woman was asleep on the floor before the dead fire, her head resting on her elbow, her legs drawn up, her body bathed in the last of the moonlight.

‘Good morning,’ said Ekodas. She gave a low groan, stretched, then sat. Her hair was unbraided now, hanging dark and lustrous to her shoulders. ‘I have some breakfast for you.’

‘Did you dream of me?’ she asked, her voice husky from sleep.

‘There is no apple juice,’ he told her. ‘But the water is fresh and cold.’

“Then you did, prayer-man. Were they good dreams?’

‘You should not speak this way to a priest,’ he admonished her.

She laughed at him, and his face reddened. ‘You kol-isha are a strange people.’ Rising smoothly she walked to the bed, sitting cross-legged upon it. Taking the loaf she tore off a chunk and tasted it. ‘Needs salt,’

she said. He poured her a goblet of water and passed it to her. Her hand reached out, her fingers stroking his skin. ‘Soft hands,’ she

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