A Time of Dread (Of Blood and Bone #1) - John Gwynne Page 0,104
of cold air and daylight, the sky a pale blue beyond the window frame. He scraped the hearth clean of ash and cinder, found a pile of split logs, a basket of kindling, and started a fire, then went to searching in the kitchen. It wasn’t long before an iron pot was hanging over a fire crackling in the hearth, the smell of porridge wafting about the room as Asger stirred it with a wooden spoon. To Drem’s surprise, when his stomach rumbled this time he didn’t feel immediately sick, as he had the last time.
‘It’s a hard thing, what’s happened to you,’ Asger said to Drem as he passed him a bowl of porridge and scooped one for himself. He pulled up a stool and sat with Drem.
‘No words that’ll make it go away, no deed, either.’ Asger looked hard at Drem, who had been staring into his porridge bowl. Drem stirred it with his spoon, then took a mouthful.
‘I wanted to talk to you about something,’ Asger continued. ‘I’m leaving; me, my wife and bairns. We’re packing up and leaving Kergard, heading back south. Don’t much like the way things are going up here. Don’t much like the new crowd, either. All together it leaves a sour taste in my mouth.’
He spooned a mouthful of porridge while he waited a few moments for a response from Drem, but didn’t get one.
‘So I’m leaving on the morrow. And I was wondering if you might like to come with me.’ He held a hand up. ‘It’s not charity, though maybe there is a bit of kindness in it. But I need some help with the stall, and my bairns are too young to give it. I’d pay you fair, feed you, put a roof over your head.’
He shrugged, coming abruptly to the end of his speech, and went to finishing off his bowl of porridge. Then he stood, washed it clean and left it in the kitchen, came back.
‘Ulf will be leading a fresh hunt out after that white bear, in a few days, he says. Guess you may have a mind to stay and have some revenge. I’d understand that, though revenge won’t bring your da back.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s up to you. Just wanted you to know, the offer’s there if you want it. I’m leaving at dawn on the morrow. You know where to find me.’ He stood in front of Drem a while longer, then made for the door.
‘My thanks,’ Drem said hoarsely and Asger stopped and looked back.
‘You’re welcome, lad. Your da was a good man. And so are you.’
‘Can I ask you a question?’ Drem said, looking up at him.
‘Course you can. I might not have the answer, but asking never hurt nobody.’
‘Truth and Courage. Have you ever heard that before?’
Asger snorted. ‘Not heard it used, but I know where it’s from. Thought everyone did.’
Drem just looked at him.
‘It’s the battle-cry of them at Dun Seren. The Order of the Bright Star.’
Drem nodded, feeling something shift inside him.
Drem shovelled the steps to his cabin free of snow, piling it in banks to either side, then scraped the last of the ice clear. Once it was done he sat on the steps.
After Asger had left he’d felt a little life return to him; maybe it was the porridge, or the fact that another human being had cared enough to come and find him, he didn’t know. He still had that weight of grief in his heart and belly, like a cold, hard stone, but he didn’t feel incapacitated by it, at least, not for the moment. He’d finished his porridge, got up and let the goats and chickens out, checked on the horses in the stables, stood by his da’s cairn, rested a hand upon it and shed some more tears, and now he was here. Thinking.
He was grateful for Asger’s visit, grateful for the act of kindness in it, though it was a dim, distant gratitude, his grief too raw and potent a thing for other emotions to make any kind of lasting impression. And he was considering Asger’s offer. Leaving was what he and his da had been about to do, after all. Though Drem knew that his da had a different destination in mind.
But Drem liked Asger, had always thought well of him, and the offer was a good one. A new life. A fresh start. Just the thought of some kindness and company was a tempting enough reason to go, without