Silver Flame. Hannah Howell

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      “The Land of Cockaigne?”

      She smiled, although it was an expression heavily weighted by sadness. “Oh, aye. Aye. Innocent though I was, with naught to compare it to, I think there can never be any to excel. At least I have tasted that.”

      “Remember it, dearling. ’Twill ease the loss. Recall that ye have tasted what few of us have or ever shall have.”

      “I think it will come to ye someday.”

      “Mayhaps, but I think I will have to leave it behind as ye have. In truth, I have e’er been careful to guard my heart and not try to win some lass’s affections, for I possess nothing to give the giver.”

      “Bah, ye have yourself, Farthing Magnus. ’Tis no small prize.” She glanced behind them. “Do ye think he follows?”

      Farthing shrugged. “Whether he does now or later, we best hope we can evade him.”

      As each hour passed and there was no sign of Gamel’s pursuit, Farthing could see Sine Catriona relaxing. But she looked sadly torn between relief and hurt. Farthing tried to get her to share his conviction that only a prior commitment or an inability to find their trail would keep Gamel away from her. The look in her eyes told him that he failed, that she began to fear that brief moment with Gamel had been no more than passion for him, no more than a brief flirtation.

      They were nearly twenty miles away from Dunkennley, a long tedious day’s journey, when they began to search for a campsite. They met up with others who clearly had the same plan. Farthing scowled as they slowly approached the group of people just ahead of them. Few clearings existed along the somewhat obscure route he had chosen. The caravan they now neared had taken one of the best and driest. Suddenly, he recognized the people and slowed up instead of passing them by.

      “Weel, may I be roasted in hell’s stinking fires.”

      “No doubt ye will be,” drawled Sine Catriona. “Howbeit, why make mention of it now?”

      The grin that curved Farthing’s mouth was one of both relief and amusement. Sine Catriona had been very quiet, withdrawn, and sad. Her tart remark was very like the ones she had tossed his way before Sir Gamel had intruded in their lives. He grew less concerned that she suffered beyond repair.

      “I think, sweet shrew, I recognize the people resting so comfortably in the spot I chose for us.”

      “Aye? What impudence to steal your chosen place,” she murmured. “Who are they then?”

      Before Farthing could reply, a tall, slender man moved forward. Farthing could tell by the wide-eyed look on Sine Catriona’s face that her question had been answered. The man’s face was illuminated with happiness as he hurried over to them.

      “Farthing, m’lad! ’Tis truly ye?”

      “’Tis indeed me, Father.” Farthing leapt from the cart and was immediately clasped in Lord Magnusson’s arms.

      Gripping Farthing by the shoulders, Lord Magnusson stepped back a pace to look him over. “I have been searching long and hard for ye, son. God’s beard, but ye are as elusive as a shadow.”

      “Searching for me? Why? I keep ye weel informed as to how I fare.”

      “Aye, ye do. What ye dinnae tell me is exactly where ye fare. I have a great need for ye now, a great need.”

      “How so?”

      “Ah, son, the plague settled over us a few years back. My wife and both my children were taken.” He nodded when Farthing clasped his shoulder in a silent gesture of sympathy. “Many another was lost as weel. Most of my other kin. Your cousin, wee Margot, who sleeps in the cart o’er there, is about all that is left. Ye are my heir now, Farthing.”

      “Your heir? Nay, I am a bastard. Ye cannae make a bastard legal, can ye?”

      “’Tisnae done too often, but ’tis done nonetheless. Ye have been named my heir these three years, and with the king’s approval. Ye will gain the barony, lands, and what meager fortune I may leave behind. There will be no quarrel o’er it even if there is anyone left with a remote claim. The king owed me. Aye, and ye. This is how he repays us both—by approving my choice. Dinnae fret. I have it all written out and afixed with the king’s seal.”

      “This news will take time to swallow fully. Catriona, ye can set the wagon over there.”

      “A fair maid,” murmured Lord Magnusson when she was out of hearing. “When did ye marry her?”

      “We arenae wed,” Farthing replied somewhat absently.

      Lord Magnusson was unable to hide his relief. Farthing puzzled over that. Sine Catriona was not a woman any man would think a poor choice for a bride.

      “She is your leman then. I see.”

      Farthing suddenly understood that his father thought Sine Catriona was some lowborn lass, and his smile was cynical as be said, “Nay, not my leman either. I begin to suspect my change in fortune brings curses along with blessings. Nay, Catriona isnae my lover at all. She is my friend, my assistant. I love her, but not as ye think. She has been with me for six years, she and her young twin brothers. The boys are sleeping soundly in the cart now.”

      “For six years ye have ridden with such beauty at your side yet ne’er touched the lass?”

      “I swear to God I never have, even though, as she so often tells me, I can be a lecherous dog.” He smiled briefly when his father laughed. “What feelings I have for her are as a brother for a sister. Even if that were not true, ye would have naught to fear. The lass is better born than I, and legitimate, though her birthright’s been stolen from her. Howbeit, I can only tell the tale if she gives me leave to do so. ’Tis hers to tell.”

      Farthing and Lord Magnusson joined Sine Catriona by the fire and shared a meal. When they were through, the older man asked her to relate her life’s story. It was only natural that he should wonder about her. She felt no qualms about telling him everything. They all sat far away from Lord Magnusson’s men-at-arms and the cart where Margot and her maid slept so that none could overhear and she quickly gave Farthing permission to tell all.

      As Farthing began to speak she studied Lord Magnusson. The likeness between father and son was truly startling. No one regarding the pair would question from whose loins Farthing had sprung. Seeing Lord Magnusson confirmed an opinion she had long held. Farthing’s looks would age well. Lord Magnusson still held all that was needed to catch a maid’s eye.

      “They stepped out of the wood one night, six years ago,” Farthing said. “Hungry and dirty they were, seeking warmth and a bit of food. When I gave it to them she told me what had driven three such young children into the wood.”

      “And he told me what a rogue he was,” Sine Catriona said.

      After sending her a brief admonishing glance he continued. “She told me her father and the twins’ mother were dead. Ah, and her grandmother. All dead by the hand of her mother, Arabel Brodie, and the woman’s husband, Malise—a cousin who took everything her murdered father had left behind—land, title, money, and wife. This cursed pair sought to place Sine Catriona and her brothers in the cold clay as weel.”

      “Her СКАЧАТЬ