Morrighan (The Remnant Chronicles 0.50) - Page 21

“His gift to us. I think he was reluctant to part without any, but the girl was enough. He thanked us for finding her.”

I was groggy from lack of sleep and thought I had missed somethin

g. “What do you mean, the girl was enough?”

“He thinks she has the knowing, like her grandmother. He went to get her before he crosses the bridge.”

“He’s taking her? Now?”

“It’s his right. She’s—”

“No!” I shook my head, turning in all directions trying to focus. Think, Jafir. “No. He can’t—”

“Stop yapping like a wounded coyote!” Fergus snapped.

I whirled back to face him. “How long ago did he leave?”

“An hour ago. Maybe more.” He stared at the stolen goods and began to tell me how he would parse them out among the horses. “Along with our own supplies, there will be enough to—”

I grabbed a large sack of grain, pulling it from a stack. “I need this!” He moved to stop me, and I shoved him away. “I’m taking it. Stay back!”

His eyes filled with disbelief, then rage. I had never challenged him before. He lunged at me, and I swung, connecting with his jaw and knocking him to the ground. He lay there stunned by the blow. I grabbed the sack of grain and ran to my horse without looking back.

Chapter Nineteen

Morrighan

“You are all teeth and elbows! Stop fighting me, or I’ll drag you by a rope behind us!” Harik’s hand clamped around my arm, and my breath caught with pain. I nodded so he would stop. I had already pleaded, begged, and cried out for Ama, who had struggled to follow us. She was far behind me now. Nothing would sway him.

I rode on his horse in front of him, and two men almost as big as Harik rode on either side of us, with two more riding behind. Harik’s chest was a massive wall at my back, and his arms curved around me to hold the reins, imprisoning me like a giant shackle. Sobs still caught at my throat.

“And stop that noise!” he ordered. “I am your father!”

“You are no father of mine,” I seethed. “You are nothing!”

“The old woman has poisoned you against me.”

“No poison was required. You’ve earned my hatred all on your own.”

“Morrighan,” he said, not to me, but to the air. He grumbled a low sigh, as if the name brought him grief. “She chose that name long before you were even born. I cared for your mother.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to hear about my mother from him. I spat to the side, wishing I could turn and hit his face instead. “You cared so much that you stole my aunt too?”

“I stole neither. Venda came on her own, and your mother never left the tribe. She met with me secretly. Neither of us knew her heart was too weak to bear a child.”

“I don’t want to hear any more,” I said.

“Shut out the truth if you wish, but you must face the fact—”

“The truth?” I yelled. “The truth is you tricked my mother! You deceived her! Just as you deceived Venda!”

I felt his bulky chest rise against my back in a deep angry breath. “That is Gaudrel’s truth. Mine is another. Be silent now, girl. I’m weary of your chatter. You’ll contribute to my household from this day forward. That is all you need to know.”

One of his men snorted as if Harik had already allowed me to speak too much. I was less than a prisoner to them. I was property. But I knew I was something else too. Something so shameful even Ama wouldn’t speak of it.

I was one of them. Half scavenger. Was that why she had lied about my father being dead? Had she hoped that by erasing it from memory, she could erase it from my blood, too? Was there some part of me—his part—always in danger of coming to the surface? My skin crawled thinking of it, and I wished I could banish the knowledge of him from my head. The fortress on the other side of the river grew in the distance, hideous ruins that would soon be my home. I thought of my last glimpse of Ama reaching out for me, and tears welled in my eyes again.

We had been making a pallet to carry Pata when they came. In another hour, we would have been gone, but no one had expected a return visit so soon. We had nothing left for them to take—at least that’s what we had thought. I had already been choking back tears all morning. The sight of Jafir jumped again and again through my thoughts, the flash of events swirling, his words, so strained and measured, Do you understand? Now, step back. Something about them didn’t feel right, didn’t fit with everything else.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson The Remnant Chronicles Fantasy
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