Shadow of a Dark Queen Read Online Free PDF Page A

increase the punishment. Erik stripped off his shirt and laid it over the back of a chair next to the table used to clean and prepare meats. He saw Rosalyn’samusement at his being bullied by his small mother, and he feigned a scowl at her. Her smile only broadened as she turned away, picking up a large basket of freshly washed vegetables to carry them into the common room. Turning at the door, she bumped it open and as she backed through stuck her tongue out at him.
    Erik smiled as he plunged his arms into the water she had just abandoned after cleaning the vegetables. Rosalyn could make him smile as could no other person. He might not fully understand the powerful stirrings and confusing urges that woke him late at night as he dreamed about one or another young woman in the village—he understood the specifics of mating, as any child raised around animals did, but the emotional confusion was new to him. At least Rosalyn didn’t confuse him the way some of the older girls did, and of one thing he was certain: she was his best friend in the world. As he splashed water on his face again, he heard his mother say, “Use the soap.”
    He sighed and picked up the foul-smelling block of soap sitting on the back of the sink. A caustic mix of lye, ash, rendered tallow, and sand used to scrape clean serving platters and cooking pots, it would peel the skin from face and hands with repeated use. Erik used as little as he could get away with, but when he was done he was forced to admit that a fairly impressive amount of soot had come off into the sink.
    He managed to rinse off the soap before his skin began to blister, and took a cloth handed him by his mother. He dried and put his shirt back on.
    Leaving the kitchen, they entered the common room, where Rosalyn was finishing putting the vegetables into the large cauldron of stew that hung on ahook at the hearth. The mix would simmer slowly all afternoon, filling the common room with a savory smell that would have mouths watering by suppertime. Rosalyn smiled at Erik as he passed, and despite her cheerfulness, he felt his mood darkening as he anticipated the coming public scene.
    Reaching the entrance to the inn, Erik and his mother discovered Milo, the innkeeper, peering through the open door. The portly man, with a nose like a squashed cabbage from years of ejecting ruffians from the common room, drew upon a long pipe as he observed the calm town. “Could be a quiet afternoon, Freida.”
    â€œBut a frantic evening, Father,” said Rosalyn as she came to stand at Erik’s side. “Once the people tire of waiting for a glimpse of the Baron, they’ll all come here.”
    Milo turned with a smile and winked at his daughter. “An outcome to be devoutly prayed for. I trust the Lady of Luck has no other plans.”
    Freida muttered, “Ruthia has better things to waste her good luck on, Milo.” Taking her powerfully built son by the hand, as if he were still a baby, she led him purposefully through the door.
    As Erik and his mother left the confines of the inn, Rosalyn said, “She’s determined, Father.”
    â€œThat she is and always has been,” he said, shaking his head and puffing on his pipe. “Even as a child she was most headstrong, willful . . .” He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “Nothing like your mother, I’m pleased to say.”
    Rosalyn said, “The gossips have it that you were one of the many seeking Freida’s hand years ago.”
    Milo chuckled. “They do, do they?” Clucking histongue, he added, “Well, that’s the truth. Most men my age were.” He smiled down at his daughter. “Best thing that happened was her saying no. And your mother saying yes.” He moved away from his only child and said, “Most of the boys were after Freida. She was a rare beauty in those days. Green flashing eyes and chestnut hair, slender but ample