Zel Read Online Free PDF

easily through the market crowds now, as though the mission of the egg has bestowed a new agility.
    The smith is shoeing a gelding.
    Konrad walks up behind him. “Where is she?”
    The smith straightens up. “In that stall right there. No problem at all.”
    Konrad looks in the stall. Meta looks back at him. “But where’s the girl?”
    “Oh, she left with her mother long ago.”
    “She didn’t wait for her egg?”
    The smith looks at the egg. “They’ll come for it.”
    Konrad clutches the egg to his chest. “When?”
    “After they’ve finished their marketing, I suppose.”
    Anger rushes at Konrad with the sudden fierceness of the farm birds. “I can’t be expected to wait. I have important tasks. And I went through a lot of trouble to get this egg.”
    The smith knits his brows. He reaches for the egg with anxious hands. “Of course not, sire. You’re to leave it with me. I’ll give it to them.”
    Konrad twists his body away from the smith’s hands. No peasant girl can treat him this way: ask for an egg, then run off before he brings it back. The girl is impudent. Maddening. Konrad stands speechless in his wrath.
    The smith lowers his head a bit. “The egg, sire. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
    Konrad doesn’t want to part with the egg. Not this way. He has imagined the response of the girl as she receives the egg. He has seen her face light up before—he expected to see it light up again. And now he is to be cheated of that response and in such a humiliating way.
    The smith gestures to a small pile of straw not far from the furnace. “That’s where I’ll set it. The lass and I agreed.” His voice coaxes. “Give it here, sire.”
    Konrad walks to the straw and puts the egg down. A sudden urge to snatch it back seizes him. He clasps his hands together and tries to look calm. It would never do for anyone to know that a peasant girl, a simple child with braids, could upset him. He thinks of her high brow; her thin, long nose; her questioning eyes; and then tries to shake her image from his head.
    Konrad puts the blanket and saddle on Meta. He slaps his hat on his head and rides out, down to the main road. It’s past time for the midday meal, but Konrad is too impatient to sit at the table. He’ll go directly to his afternoon task. Today he is to inspect crops. One-tenth of those crops belong to him, as landlord. He must approximate their yield, so the farmer can’t cheat. Then he will go for a country ride. This is his mare. An early birthday present from his father, the count, who went to Baden for a meeting of the legislature. Annette said Father returns tonight. Konrad will greet him along this very road, astride Meta. He sits tall now. If he held a lance, he would look like one of the soldiers of Christ in the beloved red-and-blue stained-glass window of the church directly across from his bedroom balcony.
    After more than an hour, Konrad cuts off the main road and follows a country track that twists and turnswith the rising curves of the foothills. A quiet heat hovers above the neat rows of cultivation. Summer is lush.
    Yes, Konrad will definitely take a long ride later. He can stop at an inn for a drink and a light meal. And he will forget the goose-egg girl. With her country shoes and country smock. He will forget the braids, the eyes.
    He rides up to the farmhouse at last.
    But he doesn’t dismount. All he can think of is the eyes. Blackest of eyes. Eyes that follow him.
    When Konrad looked at the girl this morning, she seemed unaware that he watched; yet she couldn’t be. She’s old enough to know the attentions of men. She must have some country boy who gawks at her. A bumbling boy who chews grass.
    Konrad’s jaw tenses at the thought. His throat thickens. He turns around and rides back to the smithy, urging Meta faster and faster.
    The smith’s face drops at the sight of Konrad. His eyes dart to Meta’s legs. “Ah, sire. Will you be needing something?”
    “Did the girl