Hallsfoot's Battle Read Free Page A

had no real idea. He understood
quite well that the cane was capable of killing. What he didn’t
know was whether it actually wanted to kill. He didn’t think he
could say that to a seven-summers-old boy he’d only just met, when
a woman’s voice in his head said: Be honest. We’ve had enough of
words that are less than the truth here.
    Annyeke. The green essence of her drifted
through his thoughts. Just like Johan (damn the man, but where was
he?) she’d read him before he’d realised it. He wished he had that
skill with them.
    He hunkered down so his eyes were at the same
level as the boy’s. Something in Talus’ expression reminded him of
Carthen…
    “I don’t know,” he said, in answer to Talus’
question. “The cane has the power to kill, yes, but so far, while
I’ve been…sleeping, it’s left the three of us alone. I hope that
blessing will continue. And I think…I think that if it does decide
to kill anyone, that person will probably be me. In which case, it
will give you and Annyeke time to escape.”
    The boy frowned for a moment or two and then
nodded, as if Simon’s explanation made any kind of sense. Or
perhaps Talus was simply being polite in the face of evident adult
confusion? The scribe didn’t know and he wasn’t about to meddle in
the mind of an unknown child to find out.
    Above them both, Annyeke smiled again.
“That’s answered, then. So we may have a while to live yet. Talus,
why don’t you go and see if there are any bush-herbs in the garden?
I’d like to have something to flavour the soup with at midday. And
besides the Lost…the scribe and I need to talk.”
    The boy sighed, gave Annyeke an accusing
glance and left. The movement of the curtain brought a deeper shaft
of sunlight into the eating area.
    Annyeke grimaced. “I’ll pay for that, but I
needed to see you alone.”
    “I’m sorry,” Simon said, “for not
communicating for two days. Thank you for your patience, and for
letting me stay.”
    His companion nodded, but asked for no
further explanations. He was glad of it. She sat down at the table,
indicating he should do the same.
    “Can I get you anything?” she asked, but he
shook his head and gazed at his surroundings. Here in the eating
area, simple glazed bowls scattered across the working surfaces,
one of them filled with what looked like flour. A hunk of unbaked
bread lay to one side. The fire in the oven warmed the air and
another freshly baked loaf had been split up upon platters, some of
which had already been eaten. He noticed the colours Annyeke had
chosen for her surroundings—green and yellow—the same as he’d lived
with in his sleeping area for the past two nights.
    It was then that he became aware of the
atmosphere of calm around him, in spite of the mind-cane quivering
at the edge of his vision. This feeling seemed to emanate instead
from the stone walls around him. It gave him a sense of hope. When
he glanced up, he saw she was smiling.
    “Thank you,” she said. “Gathandrian houses
take on the mind-sets of those who live in them. I only wish I were
that calm now. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry into your thoughts,
but they were so clear.”
    The scribe wondered what the atmosphere of
the place where he had lived back in Lammas might be. Cowardly and
confused, no doubt. Little wonder she could read him so well.
    “No matter,” he said. “Johan does the same.
Perhaps I’m an open scroll to all Gathandrians.”
    The mention of Johan’s name brought a slight
blush to Annyeke’s face. A ripple of something from her mind
drifted through his and, as if she’d suddenly shouted it, how
things were with her became clear. Simon knew how love felt, and he
reached out and patted her arm even as she was replying.
    “Even so,” she said, recovering her mental
poise. “Even so, I should be more courteous. I’m not used to
visitors, you see. And recently there’s been rather too much to
think about, even for a woman.”
    The words were meant