The Circle of Stone (Darkest Age) Read Online Free PDF Page A

hospitality was a matter of honour and need, not a thing to be bartered. Cathbar, however, was not to be put off: after pumping Grufweld’s hand repeatedly, he insisted on making him a present of his hunting knife.
    ‘Least I could do,’ he said gruffly, as they walked away. ‘He lost a good axe back in that fire, as well as his knife – and those Ice folk know nothing about metal.’
    And now they made their way across the snow plain towards the coast. They had left all their supplies with the Ice people, taking only the two horses, Cluaran’s gold coin and his remaining bag of silver. The horses were much needed: Elspeth, for all her eagerness to be gone, was not yet fully healed, as Cathbar had feared, and yesterday’s walk had worn her out. Well before noon (though it was hard to judge with the sunless sky), she had begun to stumble almost at every step, and Cluaran had made her ride. The other horse was ridden by Eolande, who sat straight-backed and still, her face empty.
    The snow grew thinner as they went, and the trees grew closer on both sides. Around noon they were walking through pines again, mixed with leafless birch and aspen. Where the pines were thickest there was no snow at all, and Edmund was glad to feel the carpet of needles beneath his feet again. Hethought that Cluaran walked with a new spring in his step too, even while leading his silent, blank-eyed mother.
    Elspeth was very silent as she rode. Edmund walked close by, stealing anxious glances at her. He knew she preferred to walk, but she rode well enough, and she did not seem to be in pain. Her wounded hand was healing well, with only a dark-red mark across the palm. But her gaze was often turned inwards, and he often saw her face crease with distress. He spoke little to her: he feared he already knew what troubled her, and he could think of nothing to say that would give any comfort.
    The trees thinned, and suddenly there was the distant roar of the sea. Edmund looked up at his friend – surely that sound would cheer her! But to his horror, her eyes were full of tears. Almost soundlessly, she muttered, ‘No! Not again...’
    And at that moment Edmund caught it too, and his heart sank. With the far-off sound came a scent – not the sea, but the acrid smell of smoke.
    Elspeth was white and shaking by the time they reached the harbour village. A pall of thick, greasy smoke rose from ruins so charred it was impossible to tell what they had once been. Edmund found himself dragging his feet as they approached, and realised that the others were doing the same: as if to put off the inevitable story of terror and misery. Cluaran, Edmund saw with a jolt, was almost as pale as Elspeth.
    ‘This is the place where I landed,’ the minstrel said quietly. ‘Did I bring this on them?’
    ‘That’s foolish talk,’ Cathbar insisted. ‘He was always going to attack somewhere!’ But Cluaran seemed not to hear him.
    There was a row of huts that had escaped the fire, and a few people in front of them: two women, looking out to sea, and a middle-aged man standing in a doorway. Cathbar hailed the man, introducing themselves as travellers.
    ‘Looks like you’ve had trouble here,’ he said. ‘We’ll be glad to help, if we can.’
    The man wiped his hands on his long apron and looked at them without replying. Edmund wondered if he were simple, or if he had been struck dumb by shock, but after a while he found his voice. It was hoarse, as if he had trouble speaking, but Edmund could understand enough of the Dansk tongue by now to make him out.
    ‘I thank you, but there’s nothing you need to do. We are all well here.’
    Simple-minded, Edmund thought; and Cathbar clearly thought the same. ‘That’s a bad fire you’ve had,’ he tried again. ‘Was nobody hurt? No one’s house burned?’
    ‘No,’ said the man, and started to laugh. While they gaped at him, the women came up.
    ‘It’s true,’ one of them said. ‘We thought we were dead for sure –