Dreams of Darkness Rising Read Online Free

Quellik are needed in the kitchen today for the baking. The garrison are working full tilt with the Ni-Faris festival coming up and besides they are both too young to be acting as parlourmaid.”
    Gedre and Quellik both began to protest, but a glare from Mother Gresham brought them to a halt. Gresham had a temper to match her flaming hair.
    A rich voice rose above the din from the kitchen as Captain Ris came in, and sat besides Mother on the already strained timber bench.
    “It is a fair comment, lass. The lads are busting a gut and a hungry soldier is a mutinous one. Besides, it’ll give the lads a treat to see those eyes of yours in the upper Keep.”
    The other girls all laughed. Emelia blushed again, feeling suddenly awkward and uncomfortable.
    Ris’s pale blue eyes met hers as he peered down his hawkish nose. Like most Eerians he was tall and slim, with the grey hair that grew on them all from manhood. He had a clipped beard that gave his jaw a commanding edge.
    “It seems only the other day these lasses were brought on the stagecoach from Greypeak, all doe-eyed and smelling of starch. You’ve done a fine job with them, Mother, what with Mister Hirfen moving to the Lord’s estate in Lower Eeria.”
    Mother clucked at the praise.
    “You’re too generous, Captain. Merciful Torik knows that girls can be a challenge, but they’ve each got good in them if you can just ferret it out.”
    “The lads’d ferret it out of the Azaguntan lass, that’s for sure—shame she’s taken a fever,” Ris said with a chuckle. “Young Emelia’s diamond eyes might yet put a smile on his Lordship’s face today. He’s got some serious company it would seem, to be rising as early as the likes of us.”
    Emelia sighed in defeat and rose.
     
    ***
     
    Emelia straightened the pressed pinafore she had put on top of her tunic and skirt, still feeling self-conscious as she ascended the final flight of steps. It had been several months since she had journeyed so high in the Keep. Most of Emelia’s days as a maid were spent in the lowest floors: in the kitchens, the cellars and the sewing rooms. On occasional days she was sent to attend to some minor task amongst the city garrison.  The garrison was stationed on the three floors of the Keep that rose from street level. The bawdy welcome that female servants received meant Mother Gresham usually dispatched the more robust girls, like Gellia or Sandila. So it was with some trepidation that Emelia had embarked on her errand.
    Predictably the journey through the garrison’s floors had been replete with teasing. Most comments revolved around crude observations that Emelia had changed from a gawky adolescent to a young woman in what seemed only a few months.
    Emelia turned the corner of the stairwell and was startled to see a hunched figure on the stairs ahead. He was a broad lad, although two or three years younger than her. Soft sobs echoed against the hard stone.
    She made to approach him then hesitated. It was unforgivable to dally on the way to serve the lord. Yet the lad was new and she felt a surge of pity in her heart.
    “Are you alright?”
    The boy jumped, drying his eyes.
    “Are you crying?”
    “No!” he said. He stood to leave. Emelia saw his scalp had a reddened area and his long blond hair was patchy.
    “Alright, sorry. Are you hurt then? My name’s Emelia. I’m one of the kitchenmaids.”
    The boy stopped and looked at her. He was fair and very well built.
    “Are you of the people of Asha?” he asked.
    “Well I was before I got brought here, an Islander that is,” Emelia said nodding. “Now I think I’d faint if I ever saw the sea. You?”
    “I came from Clifftop House near Port Helien four days ago. I can still smell the brine on my skin.”
    “Hold onto your memories whilst you can. So ‘Island Boy’ why are you sat in the stairwell? Shouldn’t you be down in the kitchens or in the scullery?”
    “I was sent up to attend Lord Uthor but I got …waylaid