Free The Coming of Dragons: No. 1 (Darkest Age) by A. J. Lake Page A

understood Aagard’s words.
    Abruptly, the minstrel turned away and walked to the other side of the fire.
    ‘I already told you I would stay with you,’ he said without looking at them. ‘Aagard should not have demanded more.’

Chapter Nine
    Elspeth looked up from the hare she was skinning and sighed, the sound swallowed up by the endless moor around her and the dull grey sky that stretched above. Her father had taught her to cook, but she was more familiar with fish than meat, and she was making a rough job of preparing the hare. She envied Edmund his skill at archery. Cluaran had insisted they work for their keep while they were with him, and the boy had proved so good with the bow that the minstrel had given him the job of providing food for the pot. Edmund was off now, stalking something for the next day. By comparison, cooking was dull work, but at least it kept Elspeth’s hands busy, dulled the ominous prickling that still came and went in her right palm.
    The sword had not appeared for three days now, but Elspeth knew it was always with her. Whenever she felt the minstrel’s sharp eyes on her, she wondered if he suspected something. He had seemed doubtful they had needed nothing more than torches to drive off the thieves. Had heglimpsed the sword’s brightness slicing through the shadows? If he had, why not say so? And who was the one who never died? Someone from Cluaran’s past as well as Aagard’s? So many questions she had, but the minstrel’s reserve did not invite them to be asked.
    Elspeth found Cluaran difficult to talk to about anything beyond the demands of their journey, but she did not share Edmund’s deep mistrust of him. After that first night, the minstrel seemed to have accepted their company, speaking little but scrupulously sharing food and fire with them.
If he goes off on his own every night, that’s his business
, Elspeth thought. At least he had led them unerringly so far, always knowing where to go if the path split or lost itself among rocks, knowing where to find water and wood.
    A cry from a bird circling above her roused Elspeth from her thoughts, and she forced herself back to the task of skinning the hare. She worked slowly, and Cluaran had returned with water and made up the fire by the time she was finished.
    ‘A fair job,’ he pronounced, inspecting the carcass. ‘You’ll get better with time.’ He showed her how to spit the animal over the fire, and left her to watch it while he fetched salt from his pack. The bundle was contrived to hold cookware, food, clothes and bedding in neat order. Elspeth was long used to stowing things well on board ship, and she marvelled at the supplies he had packed away: even the harp case had been put to use, with pouches for the bow and arrows along one side.
    ‘It’s foolish to sleep unarmed by the road in these times,’Cluaran commented, following Elspeth’s gaze. He looked at her levelly. ‘As you well know. You were lucky those thieves didn’t stay to cause real harm.’
    Reddening, Elspeth turned back to the spit. ‘We had the torches,’ she muttered. ‘And Edmund’s a good fighter.’
    ‘He has his skills,’ the minstrel conceded.
    Edmund came back with another brace of hares slung over his shoulder just as Cluaran pronounced the roast hare ready. They sat around the campfire, gnawing at the stringy meat while the last of the light faded. They spoke little. Elspeth was tired from the day’s walking and Edmund was still subdued. But even he looked up with interest when Cluaran announced that they would reach a village before nightfall tomorrow.
    ‘They know me there,’ he told them. ‘They’ll give us a bed; but times are hard. These,’ he gestured at Edmund’s catch, ‘will make us a deal more welcome.’
    It would be good not to sleep on the ground for once, Elspeth thought, even if only for one night. She pulled her blanket more tightly around her, trying to make herself comfortable on the hard ground.
    Edmund