The Plains of Kallanash Read Online Free PDF Page B

return to the comforting daily rituals of the Karninghold.
    Mia always liked family communion, with the joined hands, the fire, the incense, the chanting of the Slaves. Around them, the Companions stood in a ring with the children. One held the baby asleep in her arms, tufts of white hair peeking out from her shawl. The two oldest boys stood together solemn-faced, their dark curls mingling, heads bowed, eyes closed. Two of the girls quietly held hands, but the younger ones were restless. Nine children in the family, and seven of them had lost their mothers in the funeral burning, she thought with a tremor; Tella’s three, and her Companions’ four. The children would barely notice Tella’s absence, perhaps, but her Companions had helped to take care of all the little ones, not just their own. Already Tersia’s eldest was asking where she was. Now Mia and her own Companions would have to be enough for them.
    She bowed her head, breathing deeply to inhale the fragrant smoke of the brazier and the heady musk of the incense. Then she allowed her mind to float free.
    It was Jonnor who filled her thoughts. Not today’s Jonnor, a silent ghost of himself, creeping about in the shadows, wild-eyed, or masking his despair with wine. She remembered the month of discovery, that time when they got to know each other before they married, the mornings riding out together, all four of them, the long walks through her mother’s perfumed gardens, the evenings of laughter and promise. For a very short time, Jonnor had been hers, had looked at her in a way that made her warm inside, a time when he had brought her the prettiest flower, or the choicest sweetmeat. Hurst and Tella were to be lead husband and wife, and she and Jonnor were to be a couple, too. But then Jonnor’s father had intervened, and turned everything upside down. Her own father had agreed to the change, and Hurst’s too, so there must have been good reason for it, but she didn’t know what. So Tella got Jonnor, and she and Hurst got nothing.
    The final gong jolted her back to awareness. Jonnor leapt up and strode off. Everyone else began to drift away to their morning duties. Mia took a deep breath, trying to focus her mind again.
    “Shall we check the accounting,” Hurst said gently, as he appeared at her side, “or would you rather start on some letters?”
    She sighed. “One day. That’s all the time we’ve had to grieve.”
    “It’s probably better to be busy. Less time to think.”
    She bowed her head in acceptance, too weary to argue. “Accounting, then.”
    They moved from the side-chamber into the temple. The line of Slaves passed by on one of their circuits, one in front jingling the bells, another at the rear waving the censer, and the third in the centre holding the book of hours, reciting the familiar lines. It was Gaminor just now, the seventh day and the third hour. Mia murmured the words under her breath as they walked towards the exit.
    Hurst stopped beside the great wooden doors, which stood open to the warmth outside. Turning to face her, he wrapped one of her hands in both of his. “This is hard for you, I know,” he said. “Would you like to stay here for a while? I’ll deal with the accounting.”
    So tempting, to lose herself in the words of the Nine. The temple soothed her spirits, with its constant incantations and tinkling bells, incense heavy in the air, and the Silent Guards in their protective circle around the perimeter. But she couldn’t give way to her grief. It was bad enough to have Jonnor distraught; she had to be brave for his sake, for the children, for the Karning. She took a deep breath. “No, you’re right, as usual. Better to have plenty to do than to brood. Let’s go.”
    ~~~
    Jonnor’s father was the first of the official mourners to arrive, for his Karning was no more than a few days away. He was only forty-four, since Jonnor had been born when he was just sixteen. If anything he was even more handsome than his