The Raven Heir by Stephanie Burgis

Author:Stephanie Burgis [Burgis, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781547606375
Google: FQkmEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1547606371
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2021-08-04T23:00:00+00:00

Strangers and new surroundings were exactly the distraction that Cordelia needed to get her mind off her own fears. Her triplets followed Tilda’s directions to sit and wait by a small flickering campfire surrounded by blankets where half a dozen other children slept. Cordelia, though, followed Tilda through the small camp, soaking up every new sight and sound along the way. It was all so different from her forest!

Adults bustled and clustered on all sides, talking in worried groups, comforting cranky babies, or – in the case of four of the men – arguing in heated undertones. As she watched, the grouchy one called Hal threw up his hands in visible disgust and stomped off, ducking under the low-hanging branches of the closest tree and disappearing into the deep shadows beyond.

‘Where did you all come from?’ Cordelia asked, trying in vain to peer after him. Human eyes were so useless when it came to seeing in the dark! ‘Or do you live here normally?’

‘Live here?’ Tilda snorted as she slid between two groups of women sitting on the open ground, holding her own empty jug close to her chest. ‘Does this look like a home to you?’

It didn’t look like Cordelia’s castle, or even Lady Elianora’s cottage. But then, no one here looked the way she was used to. Their clothes weren’t the tunics or armour of the dukes’ soldiers, but they weren’t made of the richly coloured fabrics that Alys and Mother had always sewn with, either. They looked rough and plain, and the people who wore them looked as if they’d been tired and worried for ages.

‘No, our homes were stolen by those dukes.’ Tilda snapped out her last word like a curse as she came to a halt by a pile of baskets.

The red-haired older girl who sat guard by the baskets, wrapped in a fraying shawl, frowned up at her. ‘You’ve already taken your share for your family.’

‘She hasn’t.’ Tilda pointed at Cordelia.

The girl wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘They’re not locals.’

‘And we’re not dukes or duchesses. We care about people who aren’t our own, remember?’ Tilda put her hands on her hips as the older girl hesitated. ‘They’re children, Margery. Look at them! We can’t let them go hungry.’

‘We’ll all go hungry soon enough if we aren’t careful,’ Margery muttered. Still, she shifted aside to make room. ‘Just don’t give them any of our meat. We don’t have enough of that to spare on outsiders.’

Tilda sighed, but she didn’t argue. ‘Here.’ She reached into the closest basket and ripped off a thick chunk of bread. ‘You can carry this.’ She handed it to Cordelia, then bent to fill her cracked china jug from the tall bucket of water that stood by the baskets. ‘This’ll have to do, for now.’

It took all Cordelia’s patience to wait until they had left the other girl behind before she let more of her questions pour out. ‘What do you mean, the dukes stole your homes? Don’t they have their

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