Форма входа
0/0
Hearts Blood - Juliet Marillier
- Дата:11.10.2024
- Категория: Разная литература / Прочее
- Название: Hearts Blood
- Автор: Juliet Marillier
- Просмотров:0
- Комментариев:0
Уважаемые читатели!
Тут можно читать бесплатно Hearts Blood - Juliet Marillier. Жанр: Прочее. Так же Вы можете читать полную версию (весь текст) онлайн книги без регистрации и SMS на сайте Knigi-online.info (книги онлайн) или прочесть краткое содержание, описание, предисловие (аннотацию) от автора и ознакомиться с отзывами (комментариями) о произведении.
Описание онлайн-книги Hearts Blood - Juliet Marillier:
Читем онлайн Hearts Blood - Juliet Marillier
Шрифт:
-
+
Интервал:
-
+
Закладка:
Сделать
I could have done with a councillor, someone like Rioghan, to make a plan and help me execute it. As it was, I made my own plan, which I explained to my companions as we neared the settlement. Confronting my enemy all alone would be foolhardy. It would put not just my safety but that of Maraid and her child—Holy Saint Brighid, I hadn’t even asked if it was a boy or a girl—in danger. That I would not do. So I explained how the plan would work, and the part each of us should play in it, and was pleasantly surprised when all three of them agreed without demur. Rioghan would have been proud of me.
My heart was beating fast and my skin was clammy with nervous sweat, but there was a purpose in me now, a will to succeed that was growing every moment. My strength was building with every turn of the corner, with every creak of the cartwheels, with every step that took me closer to my destination.
We reached Market Cross in midafternoon. Outside the home of the senior lawman, a substantial house shielded by a tall fence of woven wattles, we dropped off Fidelma, after sending Aengus in to make sure Colum was at home. Then Aengus drove us on until we were at the town square. He drew the cart to a halt beside the patch of well-trampled grass that housed the weekly market from which the town had got its name. On the far side of the square my childhood home could be seen: a comfortable dwelling of modest mud bricks, whose thatched roof was decorated with owls fashioned from straw. I got down, making myself breathe slowly. I squared my shoulders just as I had seen Anluan do, then walked across the grass to the front door. Aengus came behind me, while Brendan stayed with the cart and horses. By now, one or two passers-by had noticed our arrival, and there was some talk and gesturing. I could imagine what they were saying: Oh, there’s poor Caitrin home again!You know, Berach’s daughter, the one who lost her wits and ran away.
With my head held high, I stepped up to the door and knocked sharply. Anluan, I said silently to myself, making his name a charm against faint-heartedness. I knocked again. “Ita, open the door!” I called out. Still no response. They were home. The kitchen fire was smoking and I could hear someone out in the yard, raking or sweeping. The thready squalling of a small baby added itself to the mix, sharpening my courage. It was my house, after all. I gave the door a push, but it did not budge. I glanced at Aengus.
He put his shoulder to the wood and shoved.The door fell open with a crash. Following the instructions I had given him, Aengus took up a post against the wall just outside the doorway, where he could not be seen from within the house. I walked in.
The noise brought Ita to the kitchen doorway, where she stood with hands on hips, surveying me, a tall, thin figure with her hair scraped back tightly under a cloth. A curious sequence of expressions crossed her face. Whoever she had thought might be making a violent entry into the house, it was certainly not me.
“Caitrin!” She summoned a smile. It was as convincing as a grin painted onto a scowling gargoyle. “You’re safe!”
I almost asked her to explain; almost gave her the opportunity to tell me how fortunate it was that I had not been slain, or worse, by the evil sorcerer whose lair I had foolishly stumbled into—Cillian would have brought back his own version of events, I was sure. But no, I would not ask Ita for anything. I had several things to say, and I would not let her stop me, not this time, not ever again.
“Where is my sister?” I heard the iron in my own voice. Within the house somewhere, the baby was still crying.
Ita moved to take my arm; to usher me into the kitchen that had once been Maraid’s pride and joy, the warm heart of our home. Forcing myself not to wrench away, I allowed her to seat me at the table.The chamber was no longer bright and welcoming. Maraid’s weavings, the flowers she used to set here and there in jugs, the strings of onions and bunches of dried herbs were absent. Yet Maraid was here; had been for some time. With a chill in my bones, I waited for Ita to answer my question.
“Maraid is resting. She’s been quite ill. The baby is sickly. She’s always crying, crying—it’s enough to try anyone’s patience to breaking point. But we took them in, your sister and the child, since Maraid had nowhere else to go. And now you’re here, Caitrin.”
“How burdensome for you,” I said grimly, holding on to calm. “A grieving widow, a crying baby and now a madwoman as well—it really is too much for you to shoulder. I think you and Cillian would be best to move back home.”
Her eyes darted to me then, and quickly away again. I saw her draw a deep breath and compose herself. “This is our home now, Caitrin, you know that; it came to Cillian on your father’s death. As for the burden, the obligations of kinship can be onerous, that is true, but we accept them. It is our duty.” She took a jug from a shelf, then stood holding it as if she had forgotten what she was doing. “I must call Cillian,” she said.
“If you wish.When you call him, please call Maraid as well.”
“I said she’s resting. If you’re home for good, Caitrin, and I take it that is so, you will have plenty of time to see her.” Ita had set the jug down.“You must be tired yourself after such a long journey. Cillian said you were far to the west, almost on the coast.” Her gaze sharpened suddenly.“Are you with child to this cripple you were lodged with? Is that what brings you back here? There are limits to our generosity, Caitrin—what Berach left will only stretch so far.”
“Call my sister,” I said. “And call Cillian. I have something to say to you and it won’t wait.”
Cillian had been out in the yard. At his mother’s call, he came to the doorway where he leaned, staring at me. For a moment the old panic gripped me. I felt his hands on me; my skin ached with the memory of bruise on bruise. His smell was in my nostrils, bringing the dark time sharply back. “Cripple throw you out, did he?” he queried, grinning.
And then, in the opposite doorway, the one that led into the sleeping quarters, there appeared a wan figure, her clothing disarranged, her complexion blotched, her eyes reddened. She was a shadow of herself, her generous curves shrunk to nothing. She raised a hand to brush her hair from her brow, and the wrist was all bones.
“Caitrin,” she whispered. “Is it really you?”
A moment later we were in each other’s arms, Ita and Cillian quite forgotten. “Maraid! I’ve missed you so much! I’m sorry, oh, I’m so sorry about Shea!”
Maraid said something, but her face was pressed against my shoulder, and I could not understand her. She was shaking with sobs. She felt so frail that she might break apart. My lovely sister, buxom, rosy and full of life, had been reduced to this. It was not solely down to grief, of that I was certain, for Maraid had always been strong, resilient, a survivor. As I helped her to sit at the table—she seemed too weak, or too distracted, to do even that by herself—a cold strength entered my heart. I turned to face the two people I had feared most in the world; the two who had almost destroyed me.
“Listen carefully,” I said. “I’ve consulted a senior lawman in the matter of our legal situation, mine and Maraid’s. As Father’s only two children, Maraid and I became joint owners, on his death, of this house and all his worldly goods for our lifetime.You have no entitlement to any of it, Cillian, and nor does your mother.”And, when Ita made to interrupt,“Wait! Don’t try to tell me that I’m crazy, that won’t help you. I have a document from a physician testifying that I am entirely in my right mind. In the absence of sons, daughters inherit a life interest in their father’s property.This is set out under Brehon law, and I suspect you both knew that all along—why else would you intend to marry a woman you clearly despise, Cillian, save that you realized you had no legal entitlement to Father’s property? You probably expected to gain control of it through your children, those you imagined I would bear for you. Perhaps you hoped that I would conveniently die young, or that my mind would remain so confused that you and your mother must make all the decisions for me.”
For a little, the two of them simply stared at me.Then Cillian looked at his mother, raising his brows. “That’s not true, is it?” he said. “It can’t be.”
“Of course it isn’t.” Ita had folded her arms and set her jaw in a manner that was all too familiar to me. “Delusions, that’s what it is, brought about by these adventures Caitrin’s been having among God knows what kind of disreputable folk. Caitrin, you need rest; you need peace and quiet, my dear. I’ll have someone get your bedchamber ready . . .”
I saw it in her eyes, a realization that the comfortable world she had created for herself and her son was about to collapse, and the determination to stop me before I could make it happen. She’d rendered me powerless before; all she’d needed to do was lie.
“Oh, dear, what are we to do with you girls?” Ita’s voice was suddenly dripping honey as she came over to us, putting one hand on my shoulder and one on Maraid’s. “Let Maraid go, Caitrin.You’re upsetting her. Come, my dear, let’s get you off to your chamber—”
“Take your hand off me, Ita.” My voice was cold and calm; I had not realized I had such power in me.“I’m not finished yet.” I looked at Cillian, who was rolling up his sleeves. Perhaps he planned to move me forcibly if I would not obey his mother’s wishes and retreat into seclusion. “By all means challenge me under the law—that’s your entitlement. You should be aware that Maraid and I intend to follow due legal process to ensure we get our rights.”
“What are you talking about, foolish girl?” Ita’s tone had a new edge. “Legal process, entitlements . . .You’re not in your right mind and haven’t been since the day your father died. Indeed, even before that I always believed you somewhat . . . flighty. As for more recent times, the wild stories Cillian brought home from the west made it quite plain that you’d never be capable of living a normal life again.”
“Old ruin full of freaks and monsters,” Cillian rumbled. “Never seen anything like it. Nobody could stay long in a place like that without running mad.You’ve got even less wit than your sister, Caitrin.At least she saw the sense in coming home.”
I saw Maraid flinch.
“How dare you!” I could have struck him for his thoughtless cruelty. I put my arm around my sister’s shoulders.“Maraid came back here because she lost her beloved husband. She came because she and her child had nowhere else to go. And now that I’m here, we’re going to make this house into a proper home again, not the travesty it’s become since you moved in and took what was rightly ours. Now listen to me, and listen well.You will be out of this house before dusk.The two of you will not show your faces to me or to my sister ever again.”
A wrenching sob from Maraid; it made my heart sick to hear her.
“Where’s the baby, Maraid?” I asked quietly, my hand on her shoulder. “Is she safe?”
My sister nodded. “She’s in the bedchamber with Fianait.” Fianait had been an indispensable member of our household when Father was alive. A sturdy, good-natured girl, she had done everything from killing and plucking chickens to polishing fine silverware. Ita had dismissed her. If Fianait had come back, it meant Maraid had not been entirely friendless.“Caitrin, is this really true?” my sister said now. “I can’t believe it . . .”
“Nor should you.” Ita was struggling for calm now. “As I said, it’s a pack of nonsense. When did Caitrin ever become an expert in legal matters? Cillian, I think Caitrin may be a danger to herself. You’d best help her to her chamber . . .”
Cillian moved towards me, arms outstretched. Memory welled up in me; sudden panic held me motionless, a rabbit under the fox’s stare.
Maraid rose to her feet. “Don’t you dare lay your hands on my sister,” she said, and though her voice was faint, her courage blazed in her eyes. As she slipped her arm through mine, I remembered that I had a plan, and that I had friends, and that I was not the same woman who had fled this house a season ago.
“I’m not here alone,” I said quietly. “I referred to a physician. He’s waiting just outside. As for the legal situation, I think you’ll find I have the backing of the administrator for the district. His name is Colum, and you can expect a visit from him very soon. I want you packed up and ready to leave within an hour, Ita, and Cillian with you. If anyone sets a hand on me, or on Maraid, or on the child or Fianait, that will be added to the charges you already face. Think carefully before you resort to physical violence. Colum knows all about what Cillian did to me, both here and at Whistling Tor.”
“This is outrageous!” Ita had gone pale. “A—a conspiracy! How dare you circulate foul lies about my son, how dare you poison folk’s minds . . . Don’t think you can get away with this, Caitrin.We have witnesses, reliable folk who will support us—”
Cillian had not understood quite as well as his mother had.“You can’t order us out of the house!” he shouted. “We live here! It’s ours by right!” He reached for me again.
“Aengus!” I called. “You can come in now!”
The wrestling champion of Stony Ford was quick for such a big man. He appeared, all sweet smile and bulging muscles, and behind him came Brendan in his physician’s robe, looking as if he wouldn’t mind a sparring match himself. Cillian took a step backwards. His hands fell to his sides.
“Shall I throw him out?” inquired Aengus.
I felt a profound desire to say yes, but that would be to reduce myself to Cillian’s level. “Not yet,” I said. “My kinsfolk need a little time to pack up their things and arrange a lift back to their home settlement. A little time, not a lot. I want the packing supervised; they’re to take only their personal belongings. We don’t know yet the full extent of what Father left, but if there’s a store of silver or anything else of value in the house, these people must not be given the opportunity to take it with them.”
“This is ridiculous!” spat Ita. “You can’t forbid me to take my own things—”
A discreet knock at the door.
“That will be the lawman, Colum,” I said. “I think he may have some bailiffs with him. No doubt he’ll be wanting a word with you both before you go. I can’t be sure when the hearing will be, but I am quite certain Colum will expect all of Father’s goods to remain in the keeping of Maraid and myself until due legal process has been carried out. Brendan, will you let him in, please?”
“I feel so hopeless, Caitrin,” my sister said.“I’ve tried to be brave, for Etain’s sake, but sometimes . . .” She sighed, as if her thoughts were too sad to be put into words.
“Tell me, Maraid.”
The two of us were at the kitchen table alone. It was night.An oil lamp hung from a hook; beyond the circle of warm light, the chamber seemed full of shadows. Maraid had made an effort at suppertime, appearing with her hair combed and her face washed, but she was not herself.
The lawman, Colum, and his bailiffs had seen Ita and Cillian off the premises after stern words. My kinsfolk would be subject to the full force of the law. Colum had been working on our behalf since Donal’s letter first reached him, and he had news for me: there were indeed funds available to us, silver carefully set away for the purpose of providing for Maraid and me on our father’s death.There was no need for me to earn a living, at least not right away. There would be time to set our house in order; time to come to terms with our losses.
На этой странице вы можете бесплатно читать книгу Hearts Blood - Juliet Marillier бесплатно.
Похожие на Hearts Blood - Juliet Marillier книги
- Нежный бар. История взросления, преодоления и любви - Джон Джозеф Мёрингер - Русская классическая проза
- Ветер сновидений - Джедедайя Берри - Ужасы и Мистика / Фэнтези
- Тысячу раз «да» - Рони Лорен - Прочие любовные романы / Современные любовные романы
- Наука, не-наука и все-все-все - Ричард Фейнман - Образовательная литература
- Winning the Hearts: Достучаться до сердец сотрудников - Надежда Макова - Корпоративная культура, бизнес
