A Wilderness of Glass - Grace Draven Page 0,33
with the others, finding sanctuary in safer waters, away from a man whose very name had made the ap blanch in horror.
Norinn had fetched her early in the morning, bundling Brida so thoroughly in layers of wool, she sweltered in the house and felt none of the cold, despite her breath steaming in front of her as the two women strolled to the market. Brida’s larder was nearly bare, and she intended on using the money she’d earned from her spinning to restock. The pearl Ahtin had given her rested safely in a box buried in her garden at the base of a citrus tree. Reason dictated she sell it in the spring when she could travel to one of the bigger towns and find a jewel merchant who wouldn’t cheat her too badly in the sale. Her emotions refused to consider the idea.
Norinn had wandered off to browbeat her favorite costermonger into selling her produce for half the price that he was hawking it, leaving Brida to load her basket with those things she needed to fill her bare cupboards.
A voice she hoped she might never hear again addressed her. “Mistress Gazi.”
Brida gripped her basket, took a bracing breath and turned slowly to face Ospodine. She stared at him without returning the greeting, uncaring that it was rude. This man had breached the sanctity of her privacy, nearly attacked her in Lord Frantisek’s castle, and threatened her on the beach. She didn’t owe him a thread of civility. “Leave me be, syr. I’ve nothing to say to you.”
She turned her back to him and strolled to the next stall, hoping he’d go away. She hoped in vain.
He kept his distance but didn’t leave. “I only wish to inquire about your health. I’d heard you’d taken ill.”
Her skin crawled at the thought of him asking about her, or worse, lurking about to see when she might emerge. He believed she knew more about Edonin than she was saying, and now that suspicion bore out. She did know.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “You need not concern yourself.” She moved to the next stall where the merchant sold brooms and washing bats. Brida eyed one of the stouter bats, wondering if she’d have to resort to clubbing Ospodine in order to for him to leave her alone.
“The sea air can be hard on the lungs in autumn and winter, especially at night.” His oily voice oozed an unpleasant slyness. “Better to stay inside by the fire, don’t you think? But you’re a strong woman, befitting of your name. I’ve no doubt you’ll be right as rain and playing your flute in no time. Good day.”
Brida kept her back to him until she heard his footsteps walking away. Only then did she turn to watch him, made even more uneasy by his emphasis on her name. He hadn’t gone far when he began to whistle, a discordant combination of notes that sound like nothing more than tuneless ramblings, but which swamped Brida with terror.
“Come tomorrow, Brida,” he whistled as he sauntered off. “Beautiful, beautiful Brida. Come tomorrow.”
Chapter Six
She had come full circle since playing her flute for Lord Frantisek at Castle Banat a month earlier. From doing her best to avoid Ospodine with his strange obsession, she now sought him out, determined to learn what lit the fanatical gleam in his eye each time they crossed paths and what lay behind the sinister hint in his whistling of Ahtin’s affectionate call to her.
“We’ll wait for you in the bailey,” Zigana Imre said, glancing at Brida over her shoulder. The two women shared a ride toward Castle Banat on Zigana’s mare Gitta with Brida riding pillion. She’d started her journey on foot in the late afternoon once she managed to escape Norinn’s hawkish scrutiny to return to her house. Once again she sneaked out through her back garden, only to go in the opposite direction of the cave where she spent her nights in Ahtin’s company.
Zigana had crossed paths with her not far from the base of the castle bluff, riding Gitta back to the village. A widow, like Brida, Zigana had lost her husband on the same ship as Brida lost hers. Their casual acquaintance had become friendship, strengthened by the bonds of common tragedy. Brida had readily accepted the other woman’s offer of a ride to the castle, and Zigana didn’t question why Brida walked there instead of having her brother take her in his wagon.
The trip up the bluff road to the