The Kindling Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

surprise.
    “Jenet was just here!” Afraig twisted her hands, obviously rattled. “She and that beastly Wat are… wedding ye off, lass. They want ye home tonight, love, to meet yer… husband. I told her you were in the fields. Ye canna stay. Ye’ll have to run…”
    Bree stared. It was some time before she could breathe. Wed? Surely, Afraig was mistaken. The woman’s lips were still moving, but she could not hear the words.
    Her dreams of a peaceful cottage on the sea were crashing around her.
    Surely, Afraig was wrong.
    Grabbing her cloak, Bree threw it over her shoulders and sped out of Thurston Hall.
    Afraig had to be wrong. Her mother wouldn’t do such a thing!
    Within minutes, she stood outside the squalid hut she called home. It was an eye-sore, the worst in the village. Wat spent his days in a drunken stupor. He relied on his sons to care for it and work the fields; only, they followed their father’s fine example instead, drinking and wenching from dawn until dusk.
    No, her mother needed her. If nothing else for the simple fact that there would be no one to do the chores if she were gone. She’d never marry her off.
    At length, she gathered her courage and crept close to peer through the wide cracks in the door. She could barely make out the thin, hunched form of a scowling man standing before her mother and Wat. It was Raph, Wat’s uncle. He was a despicable creature who pinched her at every opportunity. He was filthy, old, and his breath stank.
    “…And she’s young,” Wat belched. “She’ll bear children. That should be worth at least two.”
    Raph tapped his fingers impatiently. “Where is she?”
    “Soon. She’ll be here soon,” her mother twittered nervously. Filling his cup with watered ale, she continued, “A right hard-working girl, she is. She’ll make a fine wife.”
    Bree stifled a gasp. Surely, she’d misheard. Surely, they could not be talking about her. Her mother would never willingly hand her to the man who had trained Wat in every depraved act he knew.
    “You’ve not taught her obedience, Wat.”
    “Then, I’ve no doubt you will!” Wat cackled, scratching the exposed flesh of his belly.
    “Two sheep is overly much.”
    “Three!” Her mother disagreed harshly. “We agreed to three sheep. Bree is worth perchance four.”
    There was no denying the words. Shocked tears burned Bree’s lashes. They were selling her to that disgustingly, dirty old man for three sheep.
    “Three!” Wat insisted, “You’re old. I’ll not have Bree returning with brats to feed. Did you bring the sheep?”
    Apparently, he hadn’t, for her mother spat, “Not until you bring the sheep!”
    “I wanted her tonight!” Raph snarled. “I’ve need of a woman.”
    “Someone else will have to satisfy that need,” came her mother’s curt reply.
    Bree’s heart leapt in hope, but then, she heard the devastating words.
    “Not until I get my sheep. You can have her when I have my sheep.”
    Bree gulped.
    She’d believed her entire life that somewhere deep inside, her mother truly cared for her and loved her immensely. However, there was no denying those cold, cruel words. Fleeing to the shadows of the nearby trees, she sank to the ground, feeling ill.
    The door opened and Raph emerged, more than half-drunk and slurring his words. “I’ll bring the sheep in the morning then!”
    He staggered down the darkening lane leaving the village, and it was only when the barking dogs tracking his progress fell silent that Bree allowed herself a deep breath.
    For the moment, she’d delayed disaster. Afraig was right. She had to run. She could not return home. They might call him back. Not knowing what else to do, she sped to the castle kitchens, gulping her tears as she ran.
    “Afraig!” she sobbed, pushing open the kitchen door. “They are trying to sell me to Raph for three sheep!”
    She collided with a firm, barrel chest.
    “Hold there!” a deep, booming voice rang.
    Startled, Bree pulled back,