Tempest Read Online Free Page A

on the rode, but will do my best to rite you. Isealee is small but lowd, and I can olny imagine how Caithmor must eclip sit. I hope all is wel at home.
    Your brother,
    Colm
    He scratched out the last letter of his name with the quill and sighed with relief. It wasn’t perfect, he knew that, but it was as good as he could manage right now. Raener eyed him knowingly. “Never learned my letters, meself,” he confided. “Devilish little things, aren’t they?”
    â€œThey don’t come easy to me, true,” Colm said, folding the parchment and then dripping wax from the candle on the table to seal it. He wrote, very carefully, Weathercliff across the front of it, then handed it over to Raener. “Thank you for all your help.”
    â€œThank you for the meal, lad.” The farmer stood and clapped Colm on the shoulder. “And I think if you wait around a bit, there might be a spot by the fireplace in the back for ye.”
    Colm smiled and bid the old man farewell. The cook did let him sleep in the kitchen, and woke him well before dawn. He made his way back to Fergus’s caravan, where he was met by Marley.
    â€œHisself is still sleepin’,” Marley said quietly. The air around them was misted and still, broken here and there by the vague shadows of people moving through the dark as the drivers roused their camels and sleepy passengers made their way to the wagons. “You’re to be with our own wagon up front, though. Drop your pack in the back, and best tie it down tight if you don’t want it walkin’ away. You’ll start on foot today.”
    â€œVery well.” Colm followed the instructions and then stood off to the side, chafing his chilled arms and wondering when they would begin. The drivers did their work smoothly, a few wagons back a mother shushed a fussy babe, and here and there, young men—probably the “doughty farm boys” that Fergus had referenced—collected into groups, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. Colm considered trying to join some of them, but then thought better of it—he was quiet and awkward at the best of times, and it would be better to learn names and faces when there was actually some sun to see their owners by.
    The sky was lightening in the east when a tremendous snort erupted from beneath the first wagon. There followed a raucous coughing, and then Fergus the Caravaneer rolled out from under his wagon, dragging a blanket with him and looking disgruntled. “What?” he asked crossly when he saw Colm staring at him. “Have you never seen a grown man sleep beneath his very own wagon before, then?”
    â€œNo,” Colm said honestly. Fergus snorted and heaved himself to his feet as Marley came to him.
    â€œAll’s ready,” he said.
    â€œGood. You made room for the missus with the little lady?”
    â€œShifted a few boxes onto the shoulders of some of the lads from her village. They’ll manage till midday, at least.”
    â€œGood, good. Well.” Fergus clapped his hands together. “I need a piss and a drink, in that order. The moment I’m back, we’re off.” He strode off into the darkness, and Marley watched him go with a smile.
    â€œCrazy old bastard,” he said. “He would’ve been sleeping with his wife if he hadn’t gotten drunk. Called her the wrong name.”
    â€œHe has a mistress on the side?”
    Marley laughed. “Mistress? No, lad, he’s got other wives! Wives in towns that stretch the length of this land, seven that I’ve met.”
    Colm was both horrified and intrigued. The thought of just one wife was enough to send him running to Caithmor, he couldn’t imagine more than that. “And he keeps them all secret from each other?”
    â€œHe tries, lad, he tries. Didn’t manage so well this time, though.” Marley shook his head, then walked down the line of wagons, checking in with each