The First Collier Read Online Free PDF Page B

We were all of noble birth: H’rath a prince, son of the High King, Siv the daughter of a chieftain, and I myself a prince, though my father was not a High King. It was obvious from the start that H’rath was born to rule. I, however, was not. Nor did I have any desire to become a king or a chieftain. I was of a studious nature, and I realized that I could best serve owlkind not as a chieftain or a warrior but as an advisor. Isensed from the time that I had my first vision that this strange sight of mine would separate me from others, that it would be as much a burden as a gift.
    It did not take long before word of my visions got around. My parents had been proud that I had learned how to fly so quickly and, as all proud parents, they bragged a bit, talked about how I had seemed to see “sunspots with pictures” was how they put it. I soon felt other young owls in nearby ice hollows withdrawing from me. All except for H’rath and Siv. As soon as we learned how to fly we became inseparable, the three of us. I loved Siv from the start, but I could see that I was no match for H’rath. He was a big handsome Spotted Owl, always joking, but with a fine spirit and, yes, a natural talent for leadership.
    Still, I tried my best to keep my visions to myself and did not discuss them even with my two closest friends. Sometimes, however, I could not stay silent. And once my vision saved H’rath’s life.
    We were still quite young and had been gleeking about on the spring drafts that rake the cliffs of the Hrath’ghar mountains. It was great fun and we were doing all sorts of acrobatic flight tricks. The three of us loved showing off for one another. We made up names for our different moves. There was the kukla spiral, “kukla” beingthe word in Krakish for crazy. There was the hag’s swirl, but if anyone knew we had used that word—or even part of that word—in jest, we would have had our ear slits boxed. And then there was dizzy-izzy, which was quite comical looking. We would rotate our tails in one direction and then tilt our primaries into the wind and go spinning up and up and up until we could go no higher, often yarping up what we had just eaten. We had just finished a spectacular set of dizzy-izzies when we heard a call from a nearby ice shelf.
    “Some flying!” a Great Gray Owl called to us. He was perched on the shelf and was picking over a lemming he had just caught.
    “He’s a warrior,” Siv whispered. She could tell from the long blood-streaked ice shard at his side.
    “He must be returning from the campaigns in the south!” H’rath said, his voice absolutely bursting with excitement. H’rath loved warriors. He dreamed of ice shards and ice swords and all the weapons that the owls of the north fought with.
    “Come on over. This is a fat lemming, plenty for everyone.”
    We, of course, flew over. If he was in this part of the Hrath’ghar glacier, he was not an enemy. The enemy in those days was in the southern and eastern parts of theN’yrthghar Kingdom. And Hrath’ghar was the stronghold of the H’rathians, followers of King H’rathmore, H’rath’s father. So we flew over and settled on the shelf.
    H’rath eyes were immediately drawn to the ice sword. “It still has blood on it,” he said with wonder in his voice.
    “Course it does. Blood of a Screech Owl, one of Hengen’s knights.”
    “Hengen, Hag of Mylotte?” H’rath asked.
    “Indeed, young’un,” the Great Gray answered.
    Hengen, Hag of Mylotte, was one of the most savage knight warriors of a chieftain who had allied himself with Mylotte, a powerful hagsfiend. While H’rath was looking at the ice sword, I was looking at the lemming. It was plump and succulent and its fur glistened in the pale twilight of this late winter day. I could feel my gizzard rumble with hunger.
    “Let your prince eat first,” said the Great Gray. I grew very still. I felt my eyes blur as they often did right before a vision came, but this time, there was