Embers Read Online Free PDF Page A

then something else she could not define. Except that it was weary, so gutwrenchingly exhausted, like someone pushed past the end of their endurance who yet went on.
    "Nay, life does not stop, Alina, regardless of what we want. It is we who must shape it. There is only one thing left mat matters to me. The lands that are mine, the lands that make up Northumbria, will not slide back into the bloodbath that was King Osred's reign, not for your father's foolishness or for yours."
    "
Mine
? I was the—" She bit off the word
sacrifice
. "I was betrothed to Hun to foster an alliance, because he was King Osred's kinsman. King Osred is dead.
Hun
is dead—"
    "And his brother is not. Do you think I am not aware he is following me south, coming here—"
    "Goadel? Coming here?" That foul, spitting, red-haired creature? "But he cannot…" Her voice rose out of control at the very thought of Hun's brother. Coming after her.
    "He cannot claim you? If Goadel has you, he believes he is halfway to persuading King Nechtan, your uncle, to help Osred's kindred reclaim the Northumbrian throne. It is the best way to get rid of a new king, is it not? With outside help? Pictish help?"
    "No…"
    "No? Why not?" The eyes watched her: a falcon measuring its prey. "There is always a chance. And think of the benefit to you. You would be related to two royal houses. That is exactly where you wanted to be, is it not?"
    Her blood froze. She could not say anything, could not get a word out of the tightness of her throat. The thought of being used, all over again, in some greedy, murderous power struggle was a horror she could not permit. Never.
    Her gaze, fixed on the deadly snake hilt that swung at Brand's hip, became focused with a sharpness she had never known. The sharpness of her vision was frightening, but at the same time oddly strengthening in its finality, as though the sword were bound up with her future. The rune carved into the cross guard became visible, glowing in the sunlight close to his hand.
    Runes were English devices. They were not of her people. But she recognized this one: elk sedge. It symbolized protection. But it was also dangerous, an Atheling's rune. It was a link to a higher world and full of force. That force could overcome people if they could not control it. Only Athelings knew how to merge with it and turn it into protectiveness.
    Brand was an Atheling, a prince.
    She was a princess. Equal.
    She could feel his gaze on her bent head, the back of her neck. He moved, so that the sunlight diced with the shadows, like the mirror of her future.
    "You really wish you had killed me, do you not? Then you would be free. Free to follow what you have found you desire. But there is just one thing you may not know, Alina, one thing you should take into account before making your sweeping decisions. Do you realize who your uncle's ambassador is at the court of Bamburgh? Your brother Modan."
    Her sight blurred.
    "Modan? In Bernicia? But he was my uncle's ambassador in—"
    "The Kingdom of the Britons in Strathclyde. Your uncle had him recalled. Then sent to Northumbria."
    Her uncle? Or her father? Maol of the Picts did not forgive. She knew the reach of his bitterness where Strath-Clòta was concerned. Where she was concerned and… "Modan…"
    It was as though she was calling his name, as though he could hear her. The dark-eyed face of her older brother obliterated the sword. Modan had been the only member of her family who had ever cared about her. He had had no part in her marriage arrangements. He had been in Strath-Clòta, with their mother's kindred. Safe.
    "My brother—"
    "Your flesh and blood. Just think on it, Alina. What do you believe Modan's life would be worth if you do not come back to Bamburgh with me? If Goadel launches a rebellion with you as part of it? How long do you think it would be before the new King Cenred or his retainers at Bamburgh had your brother killed? They would not keep him alive for one day. He is already a