Requiem's Song (Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

placing down baskets of berries, nuts, and
mushrooms collected from a nearby grove. Though not as honored as the
hunters, the gatherers too were praised; tribesmen blessed their
names and reached into their baskets, feasting upon their finds.
    Songs
rose and ale, traded in what villages they passed, flowed down
throats. One tribeswoman played a lyre, and people clapped and
danced. Teeth bit into the roast meat and grease dripped down chins.
    Laira
spent the feast serving the others. She sliced off slabs of meat and
rushed to and fro with clay bowls. She collected what bones the
diners tossed into the dirt, bringing them to the camp dogs in their
pen. She kept scurrying to the nearby stream, returning with buckets
of water, then filling cups and serving the thirsty.
    Never
did she eat herself. When once she only sniffed at a bone, Zerra made
sure to march over, slap her cheek, and tell her that bones were for
the dogs, that she was merely a maggot. She kept working, belly
growling and mouth watering.
    When
the feast ended, she could rummage through the mud.
She would always find a few discarded nuts, bones, and sometimes even
animal skin. As Laira worked, slicing and serving and rushing about,
she made sure to drop little morsels—when nobody was looking—into
the mud. She would dig them up later, and she would give her belly
some respite.
    As
the sun set and the stars emerged, Laira drew comfort from the sight
of the new stars, the ones shaped like a dragon—the Draco
constellation. Mother would tell her that these stars blessed them,
gave them a magic others thought was a curse. Laira glanced up and
prayed silently.
    Please,
stars of the dragon, look after me. Give me strength to hide your
magic. Give me strength to fly.
    The
feast died down. Men lay patting their full bellies, women nursed
their babes, the rocs fed upon carcasses, and the dogs fought over
scraps. Laira still had much work to do. She would be up half the
night, collecting pottery and washing it in the river. But for now,
she had a more important task.
    Hands
clasped behind her back, she approached her chieftain.
    Zerra
sat upon a hill overlooking the totem pole. Several of his hunters
sat around him, drinking ale, gnawing on bones, and belching. When
the men saw her approach, they lowered their mugs and narrowed their
eyes. Zerra grunted and shifted upon the boulder he sat on.
    "Return
to your work, wretch." He spat. "Wash our pottery and clean
up our scraps, then sleep among the dogs where you belong."
    Laira
took a shuddering breath. She thought of her mother's eyes. She
thought of the stars above. She thought of her distant home, a mere
haze of memory. She raised her crooked chin—the chin he had
shattered—and tried to speak in a clear, loud voice. That voice was
slurred now, another victim of Zerra's fist, but she gave it all the
gravity she could.
    "I
can do more than clean and serve, my chieftain." She squared her
narrow shoulders. "Allow me to serve you better. One of your
hunters has fallen to the fever. One of your rocs, the female Neiva,
is missing a rider. Tomorrow let me mount Neiva. Let me hunt with
you."
    For
a moment the men stared at her, eyes wide.
    Then
they burst out laughing.
    Zerra
tossed his empty bowl at her. It slammed into her face and shattered.
She gasped and raised her fingers to her cheek; they came away
bloody.
    Not
waiting for more abuse, Laira turned and fled.
    She
spent that night trembling as she worked—scrubbing dishes in the
stream, cleaning fur tunics, and collecting bones for the dogs. Her
blood dripped and her belly felt too sour for food. When finally her
work was done, she curled up among the dogs. They licked her wounds,
and she held them close, and her eyes dampened.
    "I
am a daughter of a prince," she whispered into their fur,
trembling in the cold. "I am blessed with forbidden magic. I
will be strong. I will hunt."
    When
dawn broke, the tribe moved again. They packed up their tents. They
mounted their totem