Son of Ereubus Read Free Page B

mother’s death reverent without your help.” Ariana rose from the table and started toward the door, when Bella intercepted her.
    “Do not leave this house ill with me.” She handed Ariana her cloak with a look in her eyes that defied her to refuse it. Ariana, accepting the cloak, reached for her satchel where she’d hung it on the wall and slung it over her shoulder. She had one foot out the door when Bella spoke again.
    “I am not insensitive, child, nor have I forgotten your mother. I loved her, too.”
    “Then be reasonable, Palingard has not been blessed. Ours is a dying realm, in case you’ve forgotten that as well — a realm that needs to be cautious with what little we have. This festival is nothing but disgraceful when you consider its cost.” She dropped the cloak and spun to cross the threshold to the dry dirt beyond.
    Ariana walked the short distance to the stables, eager to be free of the whole world as she knew it, at least for a little while.
    Palingard wasn’t very big. The houses were modest, with thatched roofs and stone walls. All things considered, Ariana had grown up a child of relative privilege. Her father had been an important member of the hierarchy and had led their men against the Ereubinians. He was periodically absent throughout her childhood, but stayed with her more often after her mother died. The last time he had left was more than ten years ago. Most understood him to be no longer living; rumors held that he’d been killed in the Netherwoods by Ereubinian scouts, but she’d never believed that story.
    Her father had never met Koen, but would have liked him. She had found the dog at the edge of the woods, dirty and homeless, a short time after her father left. None of the other villagers wanted anything to do with him, he was nearly as big as she was and closely resembled a wolf. Other than livestock and horses, feeding animals wasn’t high on the villagers’ list of priorities.
    Sara leaned over the side of the stall as Ariana tended to her horse, Shadow. “She didn’t mean anything by — ”
    Ariana was not in the mood to hear it. More specifically, she wasn’t in the mood to hear it from Sara. Both of her parents were alive and well. “I don’t care what her intentions were,” she said sorely. “I should just stay out of everyone’s way for the next few days.”
    The streets had already begun to transform. Ribbons reached from the corner of one roof to another, draping down in the middle to create a bright canopy. It wouldn’t be long before villagers would start to hang red-leafed wreaths on their doors and once nighttime arrived, each threshold would harbor blood-red candles to be lit in honor of the Adorians who they fancied were their protectors.
    “I was afraid you would say something like that,” Sara said, “so I took the liberty of telling Jeremy that you would be attending the dance tomorrow evening and were in dire need of an escort.”
    Ariana took her time responding. “You did not.” She wanted nothing to do with Jeremy. He was lazy and a poor swordsman. In fact, there wasn’t a single thing about him that appealed to her, save perhaps the sound of his footsteps whenever she was gifted with his departure.
    “And just what would you have done had I been telling the truth?” Sara laughed. “I caught that fleeting moment of horror.”
    “Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure I could think of something equally cruel.” She’d intended to keep a straight face, but failed miserably. “Like perhaps telling your betrothed in order to marry you he’ll have to grow wings — and learn to keep an eye on his opponent.” Sara’s intended, Jonathan, had lost a practice joust in recent days and Ariana had teased Sara without mercy about it ever since.
    Sara frowned. “I was not imagining things. There was a white-winged Adorian knight in those woods as sure as I stand here now. In regards to Jonathan, as I’ve already stated, it wasn’t his