White Blood Read Free Page A

she held him in her arms, everything would be fine again.
    Many obstructions blocked her path, where beams or stones or whole walls had fallen into the street, but she picked her way around them. A number of people were making their way through the devastated area, but she ignored those who called out to her. She climbed over the smoldering remains of an ox-cart. The corpses of the oxen smelled like the great public roasting pits on a feast day. The landmarks that usually guided her through the maze of narrow, twisting streets were altered almost beyond recognition. The sign for the free public privies at the dyer’s hung askew by one nail, the dyer’s wall half fallen in. But enough remained for her to find her way.
    Her street was all wrong, though. She was sure their house was around here somewhere. It should be on the east side of the street, but all the buildings there were empty, smoking shells, doors and windows gaping like eye sockets in a row of skulls.
    Maryn stood looking blankly at an empty doorframe that was at once familiar and horribly strange. She started as a voice hailed her. “Miss?”
    She turned to see a soldier. By his uniform he was one of the garrison the king kept at the small fortress in the northern wall. “Miss, I’m sorry, but you’ve got to leave. We’ve got orders to clear everyone out. There’s looters abroad. Not that there’s much left for them to steal.”
    Maryn shook her head. “I’ve got to find my house. I must have got turned around; I thought it was here, but this can’t be…”
    The soldier hesitated. “I’m not supposed to—Oh, here, where was it?”
    “Nedry Street.”
    “This is Nedry.” He poked with the butt of his spear at the rubble in the doorway. “Do you recognize anything?”
    Maryn shook her head. “I’ve got to find my husband. He was asleep when I left, with my son. Maybe that’s my house over there.” She pointed far to the north, where untouched structures were just visible in the failing light.
    “No, Nedry doesn’t go that way. I think you found the right place. The sleeping loft was in the back?” He peered into the cavernous shell of the building. “It’s all collapsed back there.” He looked at Maryn’s stricken face, and his voice softened a little. “Lots of people were trapped. No one had any warning; it spread blocks before the first bell sounded.”
    He worked his way into the ruins. Maryn was drawn to the doorway but could not bring herself to step through. She watched as the soldier poked through the scorched, sodden piles. “This is no good. I tell you, miss, you’re going to have to—Wait. Here’s something. Do you recognize this?”
    He pulled a limp scrap of fabric from under a fallen beam and picked back through the rubble toward Maryn, holding it out. She took it, unthinking, and spread out the crumpled folds.
    A face stared up at her, blotched by the plague, mouth open in a soundless cry for mercy. Across the raveled edge of the scrap ran a woven spatter of blood, still dull red in places though most of it was charred and blackened.
    Maryn stared at it. “No…” she whispered. She crumpled the fragment of tapestry in her fist. “No!” She flung it away from her. “I’ve never seen it before. It’s not his; it’s completely different. You’re wrong, this isn’t my house. I’ve got to find Edrich. Frilan will be crying for me…”
    Her legs buckled underneath her and she sank into a huddle. The soldier put his hand on her shoulder in rough sympathy. “I’m sorry, miss. But this is the place. If they were here, they must be—”
    Maryn clamped her hands over her ears and screamed, trying in vain to block out the soldier’s words.

Two
    O nce Maryn started screaming, she couldn’t stop. She resisted the gentle pressure of the soldier’s hands on her shoulders, and curled into a tighter ball. But he was persistent, and at length her shrieks subsided to ragged sobs. She kept her head bowed and her eyes