been saved in childbirth by the Tower monitors.
They made a festive caravan with Carolin mounted on his fine horse, Eduin on a mule, and the rest trotting along on pannier-laden stag ponies. Varzil had to cross his legs over the beast’s withers because of the huge wicker baskets. He jounced along the road, his rump getting ever more bruised.
By the time the young people arrived at the orchard, the sun had already melted the frost, although white still laced the shadows. The orchard lay on the lowest slopes of the western Twin Peak. Many of the trees were old, misshapen by decades of neglect. Someone with more enthusiasm than skill had taken a pruning saw to them, Varzil saw. Heavily knotted branches stretched out in unbalanced array, giving the trees the appearance of dancers in a tipsy Midsummer revel. The branches bowed under the glossy emerald-toned fruit.
They hobbled the horse and mule, leaving the chervines to graze. Eduin and Cerriana, who had worked in this orchard in seasons past, drew out the wooden ladders and aprons from the little shed. In her enormous canvas apron, Valentina looked like a doll dressed by a seaman.
Cerriana had no head for heights, so she and Valentina took the lowest branches, those which could be reached on foot. Eduin and Carolin started on the biggest tree, at the end of the row. Within a few minutes, they’d left the ladder behind to perch on the twisted branches.
Varzil placed his ladder in his usual careful way, studying the branches. Applewood wasn’t supple like willow. Those limbs, as heavily laden as they were, could snap in a rough wind. As he climbed, the tree creaked under his weight.
He began picking, dropping the apples into his pocketed apron. The aroma of the fruit filled his head, sweet with lazy summer afternoons. He bit into one. The skin was tough, the flesh crisp, the juice a burst of honeyed tartness.
Valentina, the youngest, began a song in her sweet child’s voice, and Cerriana joined in. Eduin sang in a surprisingly good tenor, as did Carolin. Varzil, with no singing voice of his own, was content to simply listen. He kept his eyes on the apples and his mind on judging how much weight each branch could take.
Crack! Crash! came from across the orchard.
Thud!
Varzil grabbed the nearest branch as the ladder went tumbling out from under him. He wrapped his legs around the branch, even as the tree swayed uhder his weight.
“Carlo!” Cerriana shrieked.
Varzil, clinging to his perch, couldn’t see exactly what had happened. Cerriana and Valentina rushed to the other tree.
Varzil shimmied down until he could get a foothold on the lowest branch and from there, drop to the ground. By some miracle, he managed to land on both feet.
Now he got a good look at the tree where Eduin and Carolin had been picking. Eduin still stood atop his own ladder. His thin features were set and ashen, his blue eyes lit with an unreadable expression. A massive branch had snapped off and crashed to the ground.
Carolin lay unmoving under the thickest part of the bough.
8
Cerriana threw herself down beside Carolin’s half-hidden form. With one hand, she touched his bare, outstretched hand.
“He’s alive.”
She was a monitor, Varzil told himself, and would know from a touch. Still, his heart stuttered as he rushed over.
He wrapped his hands around the thick, splintered branch and pulled. It was surprisingly heavy. He staggered under its weight. Valentina tugged uselessly at one of the smaller offshoots. Cerriana made no attempt to help, but reached underneath, toward Carolin’s head.
With her other hand, Cerriana took out her starstone, a chip of faceted, blue-tinged fire set in a filigree of copper on a long chain between her breasts. It glimmered into life at her touch. Varzil could almost see a halo of laran sparks surrounding her hands as she worked.
Valentina sniffled, but sat quietly. Her round eyes took on the serious, inward-focused look that Varzil already
They made a festive caravan with Carolin mounted on his fine horse, Eduin on a mule, and the rest trotting along on pannier-laden stag ponies. Varzil had to cross his legs over the beast’s withers because of the huge wicker baskets. He jounced along the road, his rump getting ever more bruised.
By the time the young people arrived at the orchard, the sun had already melted the frost, although white still laced the shadows. The orchard lay on the lowest slopes of the western Twin Peak. Many of the trees were old, misshapen by decades of neglect. Someone with more enthusiasm than skill had taken a pruning saw to them, Varzil saw. Heavily knotted branches stretched out in unbalanced array, giving the trees the appearance of dancers in a tipsy Midsummer revel. The branches bowed under the glossy emerald-toned fruit.
They hobbled the horse and mule, leaving the chervines to graze. Eduin and Cerriana, who had worked in this orchard in seasons past, drew out the wooden ladders and aprons from the little shed. In her enormous canvas apron, Valentina looked like a doll dressed by a seaman.
Cerriana had no head for heights, so she and Valentina took the lowest branches, those which could be reached on foot. Eduin and Carolin started on the biggest tree, at the end of the row. Within a few minutes, they’d left the ladder behind to perch on the twisted branches.
Varzil placed his ladder in his usual careful way, studying the branches. Applewood wasn’t supple like willow. Those limbs, as heavily laden as they were, could snap in a rough wind. As he climbed, the tree creaked under his weight.
He began picking, dropping the apples into his pocketed apron. The aroma of the fruit filled his head, sweet with lazy summer afternoons. He bit into one. The skin was tough, the flesh crisp, the juice a burst of honeyed tartness.
Valentina, the youngest, began a song in her sweet child’s voice, and Cerriana joined in. Eduin sang in a surprisingly good tenor, as did Carolin. Varzil, with no singing voice of his own, was content to simply listen. He kept his eyes on the apples and his mind on judging how much weight each branch could take.
Crack! Crash! came from across the orchard.
Thud!
Varzil grabbed the nearest branch as the ladder went tumbling out from under him. He wrapped his legs around the branch, even as the tree swayed uhder his weight.
“Carlo!” Cerriana shrieked.
Varzil, clinging to his perch, couldn’t see exactly what had happened. Cerriana and Valentina rushed to the other tree.
Varzil shimmied down until he could get a foothold on the lowest branch and from there, drop to the ground. By some miracle, he managed to land on both feet.
Now he got a good look at the tree where Eduin and Carolin had been picking. Eduin still stood atop his own ladder. His thin features were set and ashen, his blue eyes lit with an unreadable expression. A massive branch had snapped off and crashed to the ground.
Carolin lay unmoving under the thickest part of the bough.
8
Cerriana threw herself down beside Carolin’s half-hidden form. With one hand, she touched his bare, outstretched hand.
“He’s alive.”
She was a monitor, Varzil told himself, and would know from a touch. Still, his heart stuttered as he rushed over.
He wrapped his hands around the thick, splintered branch and pulled. It was surprisingly heavy. He staggered under its weight. Valentina tugged uselessly at one of the smaller offshoots. Cerriana made no attempt to help, but reached underneath, toward Carolin’s head.
With her other hand, Cerriana took out her starstone, a chip of faceted, blue-tinged fire set in a filigree of copper on a long chain between her breasts. It glimmered into life at her touch. Varzil could almost see a halo of laran sparks surrounding her hands as she worked.
Valentina sniffled, but sat quietly. Her round eyes took on the serious, inward-focused look that Varzil already
Similar Books
