Ravenheart Read Online Free Page A

land.”
    “You should wed Aunt Maev.”
    Jaim’s laughter pealed out. “She’s too good a woman for the likes of me, lad. As she’d tell you herself.”
    “You like her, though?”
    “Of course I like her. She’s a woman to walk the mountains with.”
    “She’s mean with her money, though,” said Kaelin.
    “Aye, she’s careful. She needs to be. The Varlish don’t like to see any highlander gathering wealth. It makes them uncomfortable.”
    “Why? She pays her tax to the Moidart and the king.”
    “They mock us and tell us we are stupid, but secretly they fear us, Kaelin. Wealth is power. The Varlish have no desire to see powerful highlanders. Now, enough talk. You tell Maev I’ll be needing you at the week’s end. The pass is open, and I’ve a hankering to see the ocean.”
    Kaelin laughed. “Will it just be the two of us?”
    “Of course. Together we’re an army, boy.”
    “And whose cattle will it be? Old Kocha?”
    “I’ve not made up my mind. I like to spread my favors.” Jaim chuckled. “They say the Moidart has brought in a new bull from the isles. Ten pounds, he paid for it.”
    “How much is that in chaillings?” asked Kaelin.
    “Two hundred chaillings.”
    “For a bull?” Kaelin was amazed that such a sum could have been paid. “Are you joking with me, Grymauch?”
    “I never joke about the price of cattle. I’m wondering how much Pinance would pay for it.”
    “How much do you think?” asked Kaelin.
    “At least enough for my fine,” Jaim Grymauch answered with a wide grin.
    The ride had not proved quite as uncomfortable as Alterith Shaddler had feared. The wind had died down, the temperature hovering a few degrees above freezing. There was still snow on the high ground and the wheels of the carriage crunched over icy puddles, but Alterith believed he could finally feel spring in the air.
    The carriage slowed as it neared the top of a rise. The driver cracked his whip above the pony’s ears. The little beast lunged forward. Alterith felt a moment of motion sickness and took a deep breath. Then the carriage topped the rise, and the schoolteacher found himself gazing down over the magnificence of the Eldacre valley. The first sight to catch the eye was the mighty castle rearing like a giant tombstone on a hill above the town.
    The ancestral home of the Moidart, Eldacre Castle was a monument to the power and ingenuity of the Varlish race. Alterith’s heart swelled each time he saw it. It had walls forty feet high, boasting twenty jutting turrets and four massive gates of seasoned oak reinforced with iron. Fifteen thousand workers had labored for seven years to build it. The finest stonemasons and carpenters had been brought in from the south at vast expense. Many of them had stayed on in the valley after the castle was built, including Alterith’s own ancestors, one of whom had been responsible for fashioning the curved rafters of the chapel within the great keep.
    For three hundred years Eldacre Castle had been an impregnable fortress in times of war and a mighty symbol of Varlish superiority in times of peace. Just the sight of her massive walls and turrets, fashioned with murder holes and oil vents, was enough to quell any thoughts of rebellion within renegade highland hearts.
    The carriage picked up speed as it moved down the hill.Alterith’s motion sickness returned. “Slow down, for pity’s sake!” he yelled.
    “Mustn’t be late, sir,” answered the driver.
    Alterith sat miserably, praying that he would not be sick. It was bad enough that his wig had fallen off at the Moidart’s feet. The prospect of arriving before the Moidart in a vomit-stained coat was more than he could bear. The Moidart would in all probability dismiss him, and Alterith could ill afford to lose the extra two chaillings a month. Steeling himself, he clung to the strap on the inside of the carriage door and tried to focus his mind on something other than his heaving stomach. He chose