Scarlet From Gold (Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

pilgrims were fed bowls of potato soup, a warm and hearty meal that filled their empty stomachs quickly.  “Just think; this could have been milked by another pilgrim,” Pivot told Marco as they sat and ate the simple meal.
    “I’d like to ask that all of you say prayers for Marco,” Dex asked the group of pilgrims before they settled in for the evening.  “Pray that he recovers his memories.”
    There were no recovered memories the next day, their last full day on the trail before they expected to reach Compostela.  The group of eight travelers moved slowly, but Marco felt little impatience as he enjoyed the companionship and the opportunity to listen to the tales the pilgrims told.
    Lars and Ginger were interested in Marco’s marriage torq, after Saul explained to them what it meant.
    “Maybe you should wear one,” Ginger said thoughtfully to her new husband as they walked with Marco.  “We couldn’t afford one so grand as this golden thing,” she added.
    “Most of them are just leather,” Marco said helpfully, drawing a baleful stare from Lars even as he wondered where in his memories that nugget of information had risen from.
    “So, did you marry a rich woman?” Lars asked.  “Maybe I’m wrong, but you don’t look like you could afford to buy that much gold yourself.”
    “Her name is Pesino, but that’s all I know,” Marco answered.  “Her name is on the back of the torq.”
    “Let me see,” Ginger demanded after the pair stared at Marco in astonishment.  She reached over and pulled his head down so she could read.  “She’s got a long name – Pesino Mirra Ellersbine.”
    “Those are three different names, I think,” Marco said hesitantly.  “But I’m not completely sure.”
    “Are you married to three women?” Lars asked with a grin, before Ginger punched his shoulder in protest.
    “You may think that’s funny, but what a trial it would be for the poor boy!” Saul injected himself into the conversation.
    Lars started to laugh, but a glance at Ginger’s smoldering expression convinced him not to say anything more.
    “Yes, we’ll have to look into introducing a leather neck band into your future,” she said, and the topic was dropped.
    They stopped for the evening at a village outside of Compostela, where each pilgrim was taken in for the night by a different family.  The entire village, residents and pilgrims, ate dinner together, receiving slices of pork carved off a whole pig that had been roasted for a local festival.  Marco was placed in the care of a farm family, whose three boys were curious about his golden torq and about his pilgrimage alone.
    “I’m not really just going on the pilgrimage,” Marco explained as the family brought him a plate of food and sat with him at a bench in the village square.  “I was on my way to Barcelon,” he told them.
    “Will you see their new hero?” the oldest son, one who appeared to be as old as Marco, asked.
    “I don’t know anything about him,” Marco said.
    “He cured the plague – practically brought folks back from the dead,” the mother spoke up, “or so we heard.”
    “And he fought against Corsairs, and sorcerers,” the middle son added.
    “I don’t plan to see him, but if I do I’ll feel safer, I’m sure,” Marco said with a smile.
    “Why is your hand that funny color?” the youngest boy asked.
    “Sasha!” his mother scolded him for asking.
    “It’s okay,” Marco assured the mother and son.  “I’ve got the same answer for that as for most everything else – I don’t know.”
    “Well it works, and probably you’d like to let it work more on putting food in your mouth.  Leave him alone and let him eat, boys,” the father put an end to the conversation for a short time, before the family took part in a circle dance among the villagers.  Marco was coerced into joining the circle, locking arms with the other boys in the community and moving rhythmically around a camp fire as the women of