Free The Starkin Crown by Kate Forsyth Page B

watched in surprise, but was cast such a warning look by Peregrine that she asked no questions, though her fine golden brows drew together in a calculating look.
    Peregrine heard the faraway tinkle of the falcon’s bells. He held out his arm and Blitz came plummeting down, his feathers all ruffled by the wind, landing heavily on Peregrine’s wrist. Peregrine stroked his head lovingly and gave him a lump of raw meat from the wallet at his waist. ‘I was worried about you,’ he murmured. ‘Where’ve you been?’
    Blitz replied in his own harsh falcon language, and then Peregrine hooded him and tied his jesses to the perch. LordMurray and Jack both mounted and began to ride out of the clearing.
    Grizelda looked at her own horse, left standing hitched to the tree, and then crossed her arms and tapped her foot angrily.
    â€˜Jack,’ Peregrine said softly.
    His squire sighed noisily. He dismounted, unhitched the white mare and brought her to Grizelda. With an expression of stoic suffering, he cupped his hands and lifted her into the saddle. He then leapt nimbly back up into his own saddle, without even putting his foot in the stirrup.
    â€˜Which way?’ Peregrine said to the owl, who had sat unblinking on her branch, watching them eat and pack with round, golden eyes.
    Stiga hooted softly and flew away through the forest. The four riders cantered after her, the tall white hound loping tirelessly behind.

C HAPTER 8
Lightning Attack
    T HE ICY WIND RATTLED THE BARE BRANCHES AND SNOW whirled from the sky, but Peregrine could only be glad, for it quickly filled the deep impressions left by their horses’ hooves.
    It was the second day after the ambush in the forest. They had ridden as long as they could the previous day, only stopping when it was too dark to see. Lord Murray had made them a tent out of his cloak, and he and the two boys had taken turns in standing guard all through the endless hours of the night. No-one had trusted Grizelda to stand watch. They had risen before dawn, their makeshift tent so deeply covered in snow it was just a white hump in the winter landscape. Oskar sank to his stomach when he tried to go outside. The only way he could keep up was to leap and bound as if running through waves.
    It had kept snowing all day. The wind was so strong it buffeted against Peregrine, piercing through the wool of his cloak and leaving it dusted with frost. He could not see more than a few feet in any direction, and was glad of the low hoot of the owl guiding him safely through the trees.He kept Blitz pressed close to his heart, for the falcon would not wish to fly in this howling wind.
    Sometime during the afternoon, the wind began to die away. They rode through an immaculate landscape, the trees all wearing hats and scarves of snow, the bare twigs in white mittens. Peregrine unhooded Blitz and untied his jesses so the falcon could hunt.
    â€˜Where are we?’ Grizelda asked, quickening her pace so that she rode beside him. Her eyes were very blue in her face, the tip of her nose pink.
    â€˜Somewhere in the Perilous Forest,’ Peregrine answered rather tartly.
    â€˜But don’t you know?’
    â€˜It’s a very big forest. And I only know small parts of it—the forest around the castle and near the Evenlinn’.
    â€˜That’s where the Erlrune lives, isn’t it?’
    He nodded.
    â€˜You’re related to her too, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Yes. She’s my great-aunt’. Peregrine spoke rather tersely. He could not be sure whether Grizelda’s many questions were mere curiosity or if she was really a spy, pumping him for information.
    She did not seem to notice any restraint in his manner, saying, ‘Is she very terrifying? We have heard such stories of her! Is it true she cuts the throats of children in order to see into that well of hers?’
    â€˜Of course it’s not true!’ Peregrine would normally have explained that