Mercedes Lackey - Anthology Read Online Free PDF

of
the turf walled long-house bulked dark against the night sky. Bui stood up,
feeling excitement fire his blood, and slipped over the wall.
                 As
he moved towards the house, the dog began to growl. Hogni and Torstein hung
back, but Bui whistled softly, and the growl became a grunt of delight as the
animal caught his scent and leaped toward him. Bui told himself the dog's affection
should be no surprise—he was probably the only one on the place who had been
kind to it—but his eyes stung with tears all the same.
                 "Quiet,
Ulfr," he whispered, when he could get the beast to calm down. He dragged
it by the collar to sniff Hogni and Torstein. "Friend,
Ulfr, friend. Now be still!"
                 When
he let the dog go, it frisked around them, but made no other sound. He motioned
to the others, and they moved around the hall toward the sheds.
                 "This
would be easier in Norway ," breathed Torstein. "The houses
are made of wood, and we have lots of trees."
                 "Here
we have a woodpile," answered Bui. "And it will do—I only mean to
smoke them out, not to burn the whole house down."
                 The
house had two doorways. Moving quietly, they piled firewood in front of each of
them, while the dog frisked about, wagging its tail. When Bui smelled the
approach of dawn in the damp air, he unstoppefed the cowhorn in which he had
kept coals smoldering and blew them into flame.
                 "You
two stand at the far door. Ulfr and I will take this one," said Bui,
grinning as fire sparked through the kindling and began to bite the logs.
                 The
folk of the farm had slept all the harder for staying up so long. By the time
enough smoke had penetrated to wake them, the two fires were blazing merrily.
The door slammed open; for a moment they saw Harek, then he recoiled, cursing. From inside the hall came a woman's scream.
                 "Uncle,
uncle—" called Bui. "For a year I have lived like a raven in the
rocks. Will you grudge me a little fire?"
                 The
main door was pulled back again and Harek peered out, breathing through a
cloth. His eyes widened as he recognized his nephew beneath the fantastic
headgear. At the same moment the far door opened. The flicker of Torstein's
spear was followed by a cry of pain.
                 "My
boy, have you gone crazy?" called Harek. "I am your kinsman—"
                 "Was
it the work of a kinsman to drive me from your door? Send out my mother, and
men may call me what they will." Bui had always known he risked outlawry
as a kinslayer, despite his fine words to Hogni and Torstein. But he could not
leave Groa in Harek's power.
                 He
cleared his throat. "She may bring with her the women and all the men
except those you set to beat me. But you shall choose whether to face my sword
of this fire!" He heard his own voice crack and did not know whether it
was with fear or rage.
                 He
waited, shaking with tension, as light grew in the east and the flames paled.
What if his uncle decided to hold Groa hostage? No reputation would be left to
him, but would he care?
                 The
door was beginning to smolder by the time it opened once more. Bui felt his
knees grow weak with relief as he saw his mother hesitate in the opening,
coughing, then leap through the flames. Her shawl had caught fire; he slapped at
the sparks, then shoved her behind him, sword ready,
as the others began to come through. He could hear her sobbing quietly, but she
knew better than to speak to him now.
                 One
. . . two . . . three ... he counted the maids and then the men. There was a
pause, then he saw Hild, with another woman muffled in
a cloak beside her.
                 "Oh
ho, my aunt, have you got a new maidservant since I've been gone?" As the
two