The Windsingers Series: The Complete 4-Book Collection. Megan Lindholm

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СКАЧАТЬ The father was hideously burned in a vain attempt to save the eggs. He may never wing again. He is so scarred he has lost much of the movement necessary for normal flight. But he will live.’

      Ki watched the cord slip from her lax fingers to vanish in the murky water. Her head whirled with sudden vertigo. She could not seem to get enough air into her lungs.

      ‘Of such stuff is nightmare made.’ Lar’s voice was haunted. ‘When did it happen? It must have been some months back, at the end of hatching season. Or was it a late brood and it happened but days ago?’

      ‘Father did not say.’ Katya seemed pleased at Lars’s response and interest. ‘I understand that the father was not found for some days, for he could not fly for help. He was near death when he was rescued. They say he is partially blinded, too. Our Harpies are sympathetic and have been taking food to him. But he was a militant and a renegade. They will not take up his revenge for him, though they speak of the deed angrily and listen for news of such a Human. One such as that makes me ashamed to be of the Human race.’

      ‘In that, you would not be alone,’ Lars replied. Katya carried the heavy bucket as they moved to the next pin. Ki, drawn by horror and fascination, picked up her own bucket to move down another pin, where she could pick up their voices.

      ‘Is it true, Father wished to know, what we are hearing? That Haftor seeks to win favor with Ki?’

      Lars stabbed an angry look at Katya. ‘Are you taking up your father’s hobby so soon?’ he asked in a deadly voice.

      Katya flushed. ‘It is not for myself I ask, Lars, but for my father. You know how he thirsts for news. He says he has heard it from others on that side. That Haftor will try to win Ki, and with her Sven’s lands. The family holding is large. It is natural that there would be much curiosity, and even alarm, to see the ruling share of the holding fall to new hands.’

      A dull, aching anger rose in Ki. She felt herself a tally bar, a reckoning piece in this game of balancings they played. She, Ki, reduced to a measure of land to be controlled. But she did not move or speak. She set an orange crystal gently in her bucket, drew out fresh line for the pin.

      ‘I fail to see any reason for alarm, Katya. You sound like Rufus when you have so much suspicion in your voice. Haftor is cousin to me. We fear no treachery from him. Given some time, he might well prove a good leader for the holdings. But I doubt that it will come to pass. I am as close to Ki as any, and I can tell you that she has no soft feelings for Haftor, regardless of how he may see himself or what ambitions he may have. Haftor and I have had our differences, but he is a good man. When Haftor makes a joining, it will be to a woman he cares for, regardless of what she may or may not hold. Mark my words, and see if I am not right.’

      ‘There are even those who say …’ Katya hesitated, but the look in her eyes was more catlike than uncertain. ‘… those who say that Lars would profit more to take Ki to wife than if he took Katya.’

      ‘Lars!’ Ki called it twice as loudly as she needed to. ‘I’ve a full bucket. I’m going up to the hanging shed.’

      She sent Katya a warm smile under cold eyes. Lars did not look at her or reply. Ki rose, heavy bucket dangling, and thumped up the floating dock to climb the steps to the bank above the marsh. She followed the beaten track between the banks of coarse, waving grass. The sun beat on her aching head, and her mind could find no safe place to light. The blue Harpy lived, and lived to seek revenge. Other Harpies would aid him. Tongues wagged about what bull would next be put to Ki the cow. Her pace quickened, her scowl set deeper.

      ‘Race along like that, and every crystal will be shattered before you get to the shed,’ warned a voice behind her.

      She slowed her pace and looked back. Haftor toiled along, a bucket dangling from each hand. He looked out at her from his dark, beetling brows and grinned to soften his words.

      ‘Do you know how they speak of us?’ Ki found herself asking him angrily. The dammed-up anger burst in her. She let it flood her mind with the more personal affront she felt, letting it wash her thoughts away from circling Harpies and sharp talons.

      Haftor shrugged under his burden, allowed himself a small chuckle. ‘Does it bother you, Ki, to have your name linked with mine? You have never spoken of it before. I thought you were unaware of it. A vainer man would believe that you approved the talk. But it is easily resolved. Wait until you’ve an audience, then put your fist in my ugly face. No woman will blame you for it. It will give them something new to talk about.’

      Ki looked at him incredulously. ‘Does it not bother you, Haftor, to have every tongue forking over your personal life as if it were their manure pile?’

      Haftor stopped, set down his buckets to get a fresh grip, and then moved on. Ki followed him.

      ‘People have “forked over” my life since the day Marna and I were brought here as children. Most felt that Cora took us on out of the charity of her heart. Only Cora seems never to have seen it so. So, walk with me or poke me in the eye. They will talk about us, either way. Only the tone of the gossip will change. So,’ his tone suddenly became lighter, and he turned to toss Ki a smile, ‘why not give them something to jabber about? When will you come to my sister’s house to visit and admire the work of her hands? From her forge and anvil come the best metal-working the family has ever seen. She has never given them cause to regret taking us in.’

      ‘I am sure neither of you has ever done so,’ Ki hastened to reply. It was the first time Haftor had ever spoken openly to her of the matter. Ki had never understood what there was about the subject that made it seem forbidden. But she felt the mention of it drew her onto shaky ground.

      The hanging shed loomed up before them. The door was ajar, and Ki could see within to long poles that spanned the interior and supported the glistening crystals on their cords. ‘I will come to see you and Marna when Rufus leaves me time free. Perhaps Marna would work some metal for me? I’ve little to trade, except a share of the metal itself. It’s silver, and fine but I’ve no use for it as a silver mug. It takes the heat of the drink too well and burns my hand.’

      ‘I’m sure she would be pleased to do it for nothing. She gets little chance to work with fine metal and takes pleasure in good materials. What will you have her make from it?’

      They had reached the door of the hanging hut. Ki set down her heavy bucket. She folded her mouth, her face thoughtful. ‘Almost, Haftor, you make me forget who I am, and when. I had the mug for a long time, and often thought of a hair comb for myself and a wrist piece for Sven. Now I’ve no use for either. My hair is bound back in widow’s knots, and I shall not see that metal shine on Sven’s arm. Almost, almost, you make me forget.’

      Haftor flushed unexpectedly at her words. A smile gentled his homely face. ‘Fetch the mug anyway, and bring it tonight to my sister’s house. Have your hair comb, and a wrist piece to fit yourself. Surely you shall not wear widow’s knots to the end of your days?’

      She looked at him silently. She stooped and took a crystal on its line from her bucket. She reached to an empty spot on the pole and knotted the line about it. ‘I shall ask your sister to make me only the comb, and a wrist piece to fit herself. Or her brother, if she has no vanity for jewelry.’

      Haftor looked deep into Ki’s eyes. Gentleness mellowed his face. ‘Ki, will not you tell me what troubles you today? A spattering of gossip, no matter how distasteful to you, could not pale your face this way.’

      Ki folded her mouth narrowly. She stooped to her bucket for a fresh crystal, took her time to hang it. Where СКАЧАТЬ