Talus and the Frozen King Read Online Free PDF Page A

could without impaling himself on the bonespike. The tension was leaving his body as his fury ebbed away.
    'What are ... nets?' said Tharn.
    Talus smiled. 'Perhaps we have something to trade after all. Bran, and ... Fethan—I believe that is your name? Please, stop fighting and join us again. Drink more of this delicious broth.'
    Slowly, Bran lifted his right hand, his good hand, the hand in which he'd previously been holding his axe. Then he raised his left, the one forever curled into a useless fist. Talus recognised the effort of will it took his companion to do this, and respected him for it. Now both Bran's hands were raised: the universal gesture of surrender. But Fethan was having none of it. Raising his shoulders, he increased the pressure of the bonespike on the skin of Bran's throat. His mouth was contorted into a ferocious grin. He looked deranged.
    'Fethan,' said Tharn. 'Let him go.'
    For a long moment, Fethan did nothing. Then, with a sudden, swift flourish, he hung the bonespike back round his neck and rejoined his companions by the fire.
    A low sigh passed round the circle. The tension drained out of the room. The lad with the restless green eyes nudged his black-faced neighbour, whispered something in his ear. The other boy didn't respond. If anything, he looked half asleep.
    Bran clambered out of the pit. The furs on his left leg were sodden.
    'I'm sorry,' he said, addressing Tharn.
    Without speaking, Tharn pointed to the gap in the circle where Bran had been sitting. Bran took his place there and stared at the flames in the hearth. He looked defeated.
    Shells rattled as Mishina left his post at the door. He limped up to Talus and jabbed him with the end of his trinket-adorned staff.
    'When I first saw your shambling friend—this fishing man who calls himself Bran—I thought him a bear,' the shaman said. 'His behaviour in the house of the king shows that is exactly what he is: a red-haired and angry bear. Be glad of the mercy of the king-to-be, for that is the only reason he is still alive.'
    'We are grateful,' Talus agreed.
    'And you? You are no fishing man. What is your name, and what do you bring to Creyak?
    Apart from trouble, that is.'
    'I bring you no trouble. Nor does my friend, who is not a bear but just an ordinary man. As am I.'
    'Then what do you offer? Speak well: you are speaking for your life.'
    Talus considered his options and decided the moment had come to introduce himself properly. In a single, fluid movement, he stood and opened his arms. He made his voice very loud.
    'I bring you tales! I bring you stories from now and to be and ago. Where there are hearts to beat, I bring the adventure to make them race. Where there are ears to hear, I bring the music of song. My tales may be long or short, but they will never be tall. I bring laughter and sorrow, wonder and despair, tragedy and triumph. I am the word-that-wanders, the riddle-that-rhymes.' He executed a deep bow. 'I am Talus, the bard.'
    Tharn drew back his arm and threw the knife he'd been twirling. It flew across the room and landed in a far corner with a clatter.
    'Bards and fishermen!' he roared. 'The king of Creyak is dead! Show me you did not kill him, or I will kill you myself!'
    Talus bowed again. 'I will show you what you ask for. But first, may I ask a question?'
    Tharn was shaking from head to toe. His hands compressed into fists, relaxed, compressed again.
    'My question is this,' said Talus before Tharn could protest. 'Tharn, you have already had your father's body taken to the burial cairn. Do you intend to begin the funeral rites today?'
    'Of course!' said Tharn. 'My father is dead. His journey to the afterdream starts at once.'
    'Mmm.' Talus stepped out of the circle. He started pacing up and down the room. 'It is just that, before the king's journey begins, I believe there is a story here that should be heard.
    Unfortunately that story is in knots. Before it can be told, it must be untied.'
    'My father's story is