Rigante Series 03 - Ravenheart Read Free Page A

Several of the other teachers were sitting in the Academic Chamber as he passed. A fire was blazing in the hearth and Alterith could smell the spices used in the mulled wine. It would have been pleasant to sit in one of those deep armchairs, his feet extended towards the fire. But then, unlike the other members of staff at Persis Albitane, teaching was Alterith's only source of income, and he could not afford the Chamber membership fee. Pushing thoughts of mulled wine and warm fires from his mind he strode out into the cold air. The sun was shining in a clear, bright sky. Immediately his eyes began to water. Alterith squinted towards the road and the lake beyond.
    He could see the pony and open carriage already making their way slowly along the water's edge. Alterith's heart sank at the prospect of the four-mile journey to the Moidart's estate. He would be frozen and blue by the time they arrived, his teeth chattering, his mind unable to function properly. Alterith hoped the Moidart himself would not be present to witness his arrival. The last time they had met, Alterith, limbs trembling with the cold, had tried to bow - only to see his horsehair wig slide off and land on the marbled floor at the Moidart's feet.
    Alterith blushed at the memory.
    The sound of the pony's hooves could be heard now and Alterith walked down to meet the carriage, anxious for the journey to begin as soon as possible. The driver nodded to him but said nothing. He was, as usual, wearing a thick overcoat and had a plaid blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Alterith climbed into the open-topped carriage and settled back, pushing his bony hands into the sleeves of his greatcoat and trying not to think about the cold.

    Kaelin Ring had no coat. He had loaned it to his sick friend, Banny, though at this moment was regretting the kindness. Banny had not come to school today, which meant the coat was hanging on a hook in his hut, and not keeping the wind's icy fingers from tugging at Kaelin's thin shirt.
    Kaelin ran from the school yard and out onto the cattle trail leading up into the hills. At least the cold made the pain in his hands less worrisome, he thought. Anger touched him then, warming him as he ran. He pictured old White-Wig, tall and skinny, his narrow lips constantly twisted in a contemptuous smirk, his pale eyes seeping tears whenever sunlight shone upon them. His clothes smelled of mothballs. The bony Varlish bastard will pay for every stroke he has ever laid upon me, decided Kaelin as he ran. He tried to think of punishments befitting such an ogre. When I am a man next year I'll nail him by his hands to the schoolhouse gates, then I'll take a whip to his hide. Five strokes for every one he's laid upon me.
    Suddenly Kaelin's good humour came flooding back. He would need to be a great deal better at his arithmetic to tally such a sum. What a pity it was not thought worthwhile to teach the clan children mathematics. Perhaps he should ask old White-Wig for private lessons. The thought was so ridiculous that Kaelin slowed to a stop and burst out laughing. How would the conversation go? 'I'm planning my vengeance on you. So would you kindly explain the multiplication so that I may lash your back to the exact number required?'
    His laughter pealed out once more, then faded as he heard hoof-beats. Moving to the side of the trail he waited.
    Five riders emerged from the trees. All of them were soldiers of the Moidart - beetlebacks, as the highlanders called them, referring to the black breastplates of baked leather they wore. The lead rider was a portly officer named Galliott. He was known widely as Galliott the Borderer, since his main role was to track and capture criminals and outlaws before they could cross the borders that marked the limit of the Moidart's jurisdiction.
    Just behind him was the sallow-faced Sergeant Bindoe and three other soldiers Kaelin did not know.
    Galliott drew rein and smiled at Kaelin: 'Cold to be going without a coat,