Iron Winter (Northland 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

riches. They were known across the Continent; their priest-warriors travelled the
northern lands, through great belts of land that had once been farmland and were now given back to the forest, preaching of the return of the old northern gods. Everybody knew they were all
right. These bulky, powerful men were here only to remind the representatives of the starving farmer folk that any attempt to share the bounty of their rich, ancient forest would be met by
uncompromising force.
    Alxa murmured to Nelo, ‘Remember what Giving days used to be like, when we were little? Races on the beach. Swimming. People coming from all over with exotic fruits and stuff, and all
those spicy meat treats we weren’t supposed to eat. Swordfighting and cavalry charges . . . Now this.’
    Nelo shrugged.
    But it was true. The world’s slow collapse into cold, flood and drought and famine, had coincided with Alxa’s own growing up, her own journey into the complicated years of
adolescence. Sometimes she wondered if she was just projecting her own mixed-up moods onto the world. But no, the world really had been getting worse, and it was just her bad luck to be growing up
in the middle of it.
    When the submissions were finished Ywa turned to Pyxeas, and waited.
    It seemed to take him some time to notice that the Hall had fallen silent. He looked up at last, stylus in hand. ‘What? Eh? Are we done?’
    ‘We are, Uncle. Have you not been paying attention?’
    ‘Well, of course I have, my girl, and you were just as impatient when you were a child,’ he said, rebuking the Annid of Annids, oblivious of raised eyebrows around the room. ‘I
take it you’re ready to decide on the allocation of the Giving Bounty this year.’
    ‘That is why we’re here,’ she said drily.
    ‘Well, I, Pyxeas, have something to say.’ He glanced around at the banks of foreigners. ‘But not in front of these fellows. What I have to say is for your ears first. You and
the other Annids – the Water Council. For the ears of Northlanders. Then you can decide what to say to your guests.’
    Ywa considered this for a long moment. Then she stood and turned to the delegates. ‘Forgive me. We must withdraw for a private session. We will resume in the morning. I assure you we have
taken all you have said into our hearts. In the meantime please enjoy our hospitality. Thaxa, perhaps you could ensure that everything is organised?’
    ‘Of course.’ Alxa’s father got to his feet with a beaming, inclusive smile; this was what he was good at. ‘Please wait, you will be served refreshments, while I arrange
for escorts and guides for all of you . . .’ As he hurried from the room, the foreigners, scowling or shaking their heads, got up and began to mill around the Hall.

 
     
     
     
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    They gathered in an anteroom, much smaller than the formal Hall. Here the Annids and the House elders loosened their formal clothing and stripped off their stiff cloaks, sat
informally on benches and chairs, and sipped water and tea brought to them by the servants Ywa summoned.
    Only Pyxeas stood, at the centre of the room, with his Coldlander companion at his side. Alxa remembered her great-uncle from the long-gone days of her childhood, a big, beaming, avuncular man
who would play clumsy magic tricks, and later he had tried to coax a little scholarship into her head. But looking at the expression on his face now, and having heard so much dismal news already
today, she feared what he had to say.
    The scholar began speaking even before they were all seated. ‘You must understand how my conclusions remain contingent upon the information I was to have been supplied by the Cathay
scholars. Without that—’
    Out of hearing of the foreigners, Ywa gave way to her irritation. ‘You went to Coldland with the financial support of the Water Council—’
    ‘And my travels aren’t done, by the way.’
    ‘You were given this support on the understanding that you would