The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Read Online Free Page B

inside Hogarane, at a log cabin that stood three streets off the main road.
    Sedder Foden was two years older than Kora. His hair was tawny, not quite blond but too light to be called brown, and looked disheveled when he came to the door. His usual pale stubble covered his chin. He still wore the torn tunic he apparently had slept in, but his eyes were alert, so Kora knew she had not woken him. He greeted her with a grimace.
    “Don’t you know it’s early?”
    Kora explained her errand, and Sedder decided to go with her. “Just give me a minute to wash my face.”
    “Don’t rush,” Kora pleaded, sinking into an uncomfortable chair. Sedder reappeared a few minutes later, his hair more kempt and his tunic changed. This one was patched in two places, but had no rips. He and Kora ate an apple apiece, drank some tea while Sedder spoke of a fencing tournament he hoped to win that weekend, and set off for the market. The morning was already drawing to its height.
    Hogarane was a large village. It lay four days by horseback from Podrar, Zalski’s capital, but the sorcerer made his presence known even here. E very stall and peddler in the market had Zalski’s seal in view, usually on stall posts or basket handles. This symbol, a deep blue triangle imposed behind a gray letter “Z,” told everyone the vendor was legal, which meant he paid the proper taxes on his merchandise. Six or seven men in black uniform walked the streets, ensuring no one without authorization sold goods.              
    There were people enough on the dirt-packed road, talking and smiling, but fewer laughs nowadays. Kora remembered a time when the bustle was much livelier. Though she had been a child then, she refused to consider that she imagined the change, not with Zalski’s soldiers mere feet away. Just to see them put her nerves on end; she thought of her adventure in the wheatfield, and half-expected them to rush at her with a shout.
    “Remember this place when we were little?” she asked Sedder. “How we’d chase your dog down the street?” No children played that day. In fact, Kora had never seen so few youngsters out. She swept the scene and counted only four: an infant whose mother clutched him tight; a four or five-year-old with her grandfather, who held her possessively against his leg; and two brothers whose father refused to take a guiding hand off their shoulders except when he must, to root through coins to pay the merchants. Even then he maintained his grasp on one of his children, unceasingly, unwilling to release them both.
    Kora bought the flour first. She and Sedder took a side street to buy the eggs, from one of Kora’s mother’s friends who owned a small farmhouse at the edge of town. Auntie Mader, as Kora called her, was the tallest woman Kora knew. Her demeanor was always poised, almost stately, even with a daughter attached to her hip.
    “How old is she now?” asked Kora.
    “Eight months, bless her heart. She clings to her father and me all day. Would you take her while I go get your basket put together? Eggs and babies don’t quite mix.”
    “That they don’t,” Kora said with a smile. “Hand her over.”
    Kora, who had not been invited inside for a reason she was certain was legitimate, as certain as she was that she had no desire to ask of it, sat cross-legged on the lawn. The little girl stood in front of her, grasping Kora’s thumbs to keep her balance. She gave the stranger a queer look, her bottom lip shaking, but did not cry.
    “Going black market, aren’t you?” whispered Sedder. He took a seat beside them.
    “You do it yourself.”
    Sedder scooted closer to his friend. “Be honest, is your family getting on?”
    “ As well as any. M y mother spends most of the day at the loom. She works herself ragged, and still she won’t let me help her like I want to. I weave some, as much as I can, but she’s faster, so a lot of the household tasks fall to me now.”
    “Like going into