Tales of Golmeira- The Complete Box Set by Marianne Ratcliffe

Author:Marianne Ratcliffe [Ratcliffe, Marianne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780993400179
Published: 2019-06-22T04:00:00+00:00

Kikan’s long legs took him down the mountain at a speed they struggled to match. Polina soon lagged behind, but Kikan didn’t check to see if they were keeping up. Zastra scrambled past Kylen and Ithgol until she reached the tall farmer.

‘Slow down, Kikan. What happened?’

He did not break stride. ‘Frecha will tell you. And once she has, you must go. Trouble follows you, Layna.’

It was clear there was no point in asking more questions. The big farmer had always been taciturn, but it was certain he blamed her for something. But what? Then she realised. Why else would Golmeiran soldiers come to Etta’s house, if not to look for her? Of course she was to blame. Fin, Dalbric and Etta are dead and it’s my fault.

They reached Frecha’s house. Kikan banged on the door three times and strode off. Zastra tried the door. It was not locked and she eased it open. She remembered the dark passage well, and how it opened out in a room that appeared larger than she recalled. The huge loom that had once filled half the room was no longer there.

‘Frecha?’ she whispered. A tiny woman hobbled in from the kitchen, arthritis-ravaged fingers gripping the top of a cane.

‘Well now. You’ve come back to us, duckie. But too late, alas.’

Grief choked every ounce of breath from Zastra’s body. Her knees buckled and Frecha shuffled towards her in alarm.

‘By the stars, you misunderstand me!’ she cried ‘They’re alive. Your brother and Dalbric. Well, they were last time I saw them. We had the graves dug to put those soldiers off the scent.’

Zastra stared at her, hardly daring to hope.

‘They are alive? Truly?’

‘Yes, duckie.’

‘And Etta?’

Frecha hung her head.

‘The miner’s lung took her two winters since, I’m afraid.’

Zastra and the weaver shared a moment of silent sadness. Etta, the woman who had taken Zastra and Findar into her house even though she had barely enough to feed herself and her son. The weaver nodded, her eyes bright with suppressed tears.

‘She told me what you’d done for her, Zastra. How you got caught getting her the yaya-root. It gave her two more summers than she would have had otherwise. When she died, Dalbric married my Hanra and he and Fin moved in with us.’

‘You know my true name? And Dalbric married Hanra?’

Frecha turned towards the kitchen. ‘Let me make a pot of chala,’ she said. ‘We’ve much to talk about.’

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