Amber Treasure, The Read Online Free Page A

if by some sorcery or
magic. Perhaps, I mused, the blacksmith was enchanting it. I had heard tales of
such things. But, then again, swords needed no spells to draw me to them.
    I glanced at the others, but they
were still eagerly haggling over how many pounds of nails could be bought for a
pfennig. I looked back at the sword, itching to hold it and I reached out my
fingers and lightly touched the blade. With a yelp, I snatched back my hand and
sucked the finger tips: the sword had still been red hot.
    Father came bustling across the
room, glared at my fingers and then slapped me firmly, but with no real spite,
over the back of the head.
    “Fool, you’ve burnt your fingers.
They’ll blister and fester, if we’re not careful. I guess while we are here, we
must see if the healer woman is at home and can treat that.”
    He shook his head and tutted,
then stomped back to finish his negotiations. While he continued to haggle, I
noticed he kept glancing over at me, as if weighing something up. Finally, he
nodded to himself, as if a decision had just been reached.
    We soon set off again and I
expected us to go straight home but instead, we deviated down a side road. A
short way along it, the cart slowed and I could see someone not far away.
    She stood beside the road in the
late afternoon shadows that formed under the eaves of a house. As we
approached, my father, who was sitting on the front of the wagon, seemed to
stiffen. I looked at my brother and was startled to see that he wore a scowl. The
woman stepped out into the road and my father, jumping down, went over to her.
They spoke for a few moments and then he handed the two sacks to her. Without
any more words, he then walked back to the cart.
    When he had gone only a few
paces, she called to him and he turned. She was gesturing into the shadows
where I now saw that a boy, perhaps a little younger than I and with brown hair
like his mother’s, was standing. The lad looked up at my father, eyes hopeful:
desperate even. My father stared at him for a long time then he shook his head
and turned away. The boy’s eyes became wet and he ran over to his mother. She
held out an arm and embraced him. They turned back towards us and I could now
see that both of them were staring, not at my father, nor at Cuthwine, but at
me and upon both their faces was an expression of utter hatred. Shocked and
mystified, I looked away.
    The cart started off again and we
moved away, down the road, towards home. As we passed the last house in
Wicstun, I twisted round and glanced back up the lane. The woman had gone, but
I could see that the boy was still looking our way. Even at this distance, I
could feel the strength of his feelings towards me. Confused, I turned and
leant forward, towards my father and opened my mouth to ask a question, but
then I saw Cuthwine shake his head and I held my peace, as we returned home.
    It was only a few days after this
that my father came to Eduard, Cuthbert and me, while we were helping Caerfydd
repair the roof of the great barn in preparation for the winter storms. This is
to say, we were fooling around and he was doing the work.
    “Cerdic,” he shouted over to me
from the Villa, “come here and bring the boys.”
    I exchanged a worried glance with
my friends and saw that the same thought was passing through their minds: we
hadn’t done anything wrong today − had we? But my father was smiling when
we reached him.
    “Today, it is time to begin to
leave childhood behind and set out on the journey to manhood. You are all old
enough to learn the arts of war, for the day may come when you need to defend
your family and lands: just as your fathers and grandfathers have done before
you.”
    As he spoke these words, I saw
that he had put on his sword − his brother’s sword. It was hanging from a
baldric – a strap worn over his left shoulder - so that the blade lay against
his lower chest. He noticed I was looking at it and pulled it out, holding it
in front of