The Staff and the Blade: Irin Chronicles Book Four Read Online Free

in the woman—
    “Did you know Orsala of Vestfold is her grandmother?” Henry’s expression was one of near wonder. “I wonder if she will visit her granddaughter during her time here.”
    Damien frowned. “Orsala of Vestfold?”
    “Surely you’ve heard of her.” Henry sat on the bench by Damien’s door. “Her singing of ‘The Lux Cycle’ was considered transformative by Vienna.”
    “‘The Lux Cycle’?”
    Henry nodded with enthusiasm.
    “Henry, are you interested in this woman because of who she is or because you admire her grandmother’s scholarship?”
    His cheeks colored pink again. “Well, I’m sure this young woman—”
    “Sari. Her name is Sari.”
    “I’m sure Sari is lovely. I am simply curious.” Henry’s eyes grew wide. “Do you think my curiosity would offend her? Perhaps she came here to escape recognition. I should not say anything, should I?”
    Damien couldn’t hold back his smile. “Henry, I doubt your interest in her grandmother would offend her. And as to why she’s on Orkney, I think it has more to do with grain production than escape.”
    Henry wasn’t listening. He tapped his foot against the bench in rhythm. “I should write to the brothers in Edinburgh. They might know more about why she’s here.”
    “Or you could ask the girl.”
    “I thought you said her name was Sari.”
    “It is.” He just avoided saying it. His hand reached for a piece of blotting paper, and he wrote out her name as it would appear in the Old Language, unable to resist his curiosity. He let his pen linger, carelessly spreading ink where it touched the page.
    Beautiful. Sari was beautiful.

CHAPTER THREE

    S ARI nodded politely to the young man who brought porridge to the table. She gave him a half smile in thanks as Einar continued to ramble.
    “—obviously something you’re not understanding. I’d not expect you to so quickly of course, but seeing as the growing season here is so short—”
    “It’s similar to some of the land where I grew up.” Sari interrupted him, tired of his monologue. She took a drink of the excellent milk the village dairy produced and set down her mug. “Greta said you’d not had an earth singer here in many years. But I don’t feel any residual magic. Have you ever had one?”
    Einar shrugged. “Not since I’ve been here. Before that? Who knows. Does it matter?”
    Sari took a bite of porridge to avoid the sharp retort sitting on her tongue.
    Henry, the friendly scholar who’d been peppering her with indirect questions about her grandmother for the past week, sat down on her left. He glanced between Sari’s carefully silent face and Einar’s complacent expression.
    “Good morning. What are we talking about?” Henry asked.
    “Henry,” Einar started, “you’ve been here a long while.”
    “Indeed.” His bald head bobbed. “In fact, I’ve been here the longest, if you recall, Einar. Perhaps you’d forgotten that.”
    Einar’s eyes narrowed, and Sari bit her lip and took another gulp of milk.
    “I’m sure it’s easy to forget,” Henry continued, seemingly oblivious to Einar’s irritation. “You do have so much on your mind in the village. But in fact, I have been on Orkney for over two hundred years. And before that I was in Scotland. That’s where I met Damien, you see,” Henry said to Sari. “I met him in Scotland and we both came to Orkney. So you see, both Damien and I have been here far longer than Einar. But of course it’s very hard to remember those things when you are very busy.”
    Sari managed to stifle a smile. “Thank you, Henry.”
    “Of course,” Henry said. “But I’m reminded of my question: What are we speaking of?”
    “Earth singers,” Einar grumbled with a curled lip. “The girl was asking if the land had felt an earth singer recently.”
    “Oh.” Henry’s eyes went wide. “Probably not ever, Einar. Didn’t you tell the scribe house in Edinburgh this was untouched land?”
    Sari sighed and closed her