The Crimson Chalice Read Online Free

Tell me, Tia—what have you got in your bundle? My two good friends, whose throats I’ll cut one day, took all my stuff and the packhorse as well.”
    â€œThere’s not much. Some food. Some clothes. A few cooking things. A little money, the dagger, and a brooch that belonged to my mother.”
    â€œI see. Well, we’ll need to acquire a few more things.”
    â€œAcquire?”
    â€œYes. Steal if need be.” He rolled over and away suddenly and, looking up at her, said firmly, “But one thing you’ve got to remember—if I tell you to do something, you do it—fast! Any bush or thicket can hold a cutthroat. Understood?”
    After a moment’s hesitation Tia said, “Yes.”
    â€œAnd we must cut your hair even shorter. You’ve got to look like a boy, even if a pretty one. So don’t pull a long face about it.”
    Although she hid it, there was a flare of anger in Tia at the way he spoke. Sarcasm edging her voice, she said with a little shrug, “If that’s what the great Baradoc, son of a chief, orders—then yes.” On her knees she made a mock bow.
    Baradoc grinned and said, “Don’t give me any of your sauce.” He stood up and began to flex his arms and shoulders and then bent over and touched his toes, loosening up his body. As he did so, he went on, “You must know this part of the country well.”
    â€œYes.”
    He jerked his head toward the glade. “Where does the path lead?”
    â€œTo the sea. It’s not far.”
    â€œIs there a village down there?”
    â€œThere was until last year. A long boat raided it and it was burned. But there are still a few old huts the fishermen use when the shoals come along the coast.”
    Baradoc bent and threw open her bundle. He took out a thin woollen blanket, slung it over his shoulders and tied it about his neck. He smiled at her. “I’m going scavenging. You stay here.” He turned and said something in his own language to the dogs and then walked off. Lerg and the other dogs watched him go. Cuna whined for a moment and then was silent. As Baradoc disappeared through the trees Tia saw Bran lift himself from the ash treetop and slide away on the sea breeze, slanting low over the forest toward the coast.
    Tia moved to the open bundle and began to tidy the things that Baradoc had left in disarray. She arranged them neatly in the silk cover but left out the small cauldron and the beaker and her dagger. Before tying the ends of the coverlet together again she unwrapped from a piece of linen her mother’s brooch. It was a small gold oval set on a strong pin. On its face, worked in relief, were clasped hands. Around them ran the inscription “To Januaria Hermia, my dearest. Marcus.” The brooch had been given to her mother on her betrothal by her father.
    Holding it, Tia was struck by a sense of desolation. Alone now, with no need to cosset her pride or hide her feelings from anyone, she felt the strange dark knowledge of utter loss possess her. Resting back on her heels, she put her hands to her eyes and wept silently, her shoulders shaking, her head bowed.
    After a while she felt the warm lap of a tongue caress the back of her hands. Looking up, she saw that Aesc had come to her and licked her hands. Behind her Lerg sat upright on his haunches, his great tongue lolling from his mouth as he watched her. She fondled Aesc’s silky head and, as she did so, Cuna gave a little whimper, came to her and flopped his head into her lap.
    She fondled Cuna’s head, setting his stubby, docked tail wagging. The gods took, she thought, and the gods gave. There was no questioning their ways. Yesterday was one life; today another—and one for which she was utterly unprepared or fitted. Well, so what? She thought with a moment’s heartening defiance. She must learn to live a new life. And then, almost as though she could hear his voice, a