Borne in Blood Read Online Free PDF Page A

never tormented Pedro again. For the first time in months, Pedro slept soundly and awoke without dread. The prostitute continued to visit him, and to earn her pay, but never again would Pedro allow her to be on top of him, for he feared that would tempt the Night-Hag to another attack.
    For a minute or so after Ragoczy finished the story, Hero said nothing. Then she gave a shaky laugh and said, “Not precisely a children’s story, is it?” Without waiting for him to respond, she went on, “Still, the Greek legends of long ago are as carnal as this one, and everyone believes they are improving myths.”
    “It is a way to explain what is not understood,” said Ragoczy, and set the book aside.
    “It is a strange thing to me, that so often folktale explanations are much worse than the actual reasons are.” She sighed. “What is it in us that longs so for large disasters instead of small accidents and happenstance?”
    “Importance,” said Ragoczy. “Or so I have come to think—many men would prefer to be the object of malign destiny than one unfortunate enough to have ended up in harm’s way for no more reason than that of inauspicious coincidence. An angry god after you lends you importance that accidents do not.” He thought of the monks on Dhenoussa and the storm that brought him into their hands; his Egyptian steersman had believed that Poseidon had been the source of their ordeal, which was an act of vengeance for slighting his power, but Ragoczy had concluded at the time that contrary winds and high seas were the forces responsible.
    She shook her head. “I can’t imagine that anyone would seek to magnify misfortune in such a way,” she said, then went on in a brisker tone, “No, I don’t mean that. I can understand, and I have seen it happen. But losses are hard enough to bear without burdening them with greater significance than they possess for themselves.”
    He reached out and touched her cheek. “As you have cause enough to know.”
    “I don’t intend to dwell on the past: it is fixed and cannot be changed.” She shook her head twice.
    “You may change your understanding of the past,” he suggested gently.
    “As you have done?” she suggested remotely. “But I haven’t your centuries to provide perspective.”
    “Ah,” he said, a bit ruefully.
    She contemplated the middle distance. “The fire in my room is still burning. We will be warm there.”
    “Are you sure you want to retire so early in the day? It is barely one o’clock.” He glanced toward the clock. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. It would be unkind to Uchtred not to eat it while it is hot.”
    “Surely we will be done in an hour? An hour?” she ventured, rising and moving her wolf-skin rug so it was around her shoulders more securely. “Not that I want to hurry you.”
    “It is you who should not be hurried,” he reminded her.
    “It is lovely of you to be so thoughtful,” she said, going toward the double doors that would give the nearest access to stairs. “For all you say you benefit from it.”
    “I assure you that I do,” Ragoczy said, following her without haste yet with obvious pleasant anticipation.
    “Think of how we might make the most out of the time we have together,” she encouraged him as she opened the door and beckoned him to follow her.
    He closed the door and called out for Rogier. “We will be upstairs for an hour or so. If you will keep the fires lit in the private dining room and the withdrawing room, I would appreciate it.”
    Rogier, who stood in the doorway leading back to the kitchen, said, “Very well, my master.”
    “If you have any questions, perhaps they could wait for an hour or so?” Ragoczy suggested.
    “An hour or so? Certainly. I doubt there is anything so pressing that it cannot wait until tomorrow, if necessary.”
    “Very good,” said Ragoczy, and prepared to follow Hero up the curving stairs toward the narrow gallery above; at a signal from Rogier, he swung his