Prince of Swords by Linda Winstead Jones

Author:Linda Winstead Jones [Jones, Linda Winstead]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-07T07:03:04+00:00

Lyr had told her that they would come across a house of sorts, and though she had doubted him and his nose, when she smelled the smoke herself, she felt a rush of relief. While she couldn't imagine anyone choosing to live here, at the moment she was very relieved. Surely whoever lived out here in the swampland would allow them to stay until morning.

She hadn't relished the idea of remaining on horseback when darkness fell and she could not see the water or the birds or the far bank where reptiles cavorted. What might come out at night in this place? She shuddered at the very thought. Every step she took away from the only home she'd known introduced her to something new. Love, violent death, pleasure, betrayal, friendship, fears such as she had never known…

Lyr, with his hawklike eyes, caught sight of the cabin before she did. He changed their direction of travel slightly, and soon enough she, too, saw the home they had been seeking. At least, she assumed it was someone's home. The small cabin was built of the sturdy wood which grew in the swampland, and the chimney which spat smoke was made of gray stone. One side rose out of the water, and a small barn of sorts sat crookedly, half in the water, half on the muddy bank. There was a sagging porch and steps which rose out of the water. A single rocking chair was sitting on that porch, and as Rayne watched, an unexpected breeze caught the rocker and made it move very slightly. A chill walked down her spine. Perhaps it was not a friendly house, but the home of an enemy.

The sky was growing gray, and on the opposite bank something entered the water with a splash. It sounded larger than what they'd been hearing all day, and in Rayne's mind it was much more ominous than the cabin and whatever waited inside.

Before they could dismount, the front door opened and a woman stepped onto the porch. She was middle-aged and slender, and her dark hair streaked with gray had been pulled back simply. Her colorful dress was unlike any Rayne had ever seen—not that she'd been exposed to worldly fashions in her lifetime. Gold bracelets hung from both wrists, and when the woman took another step, it was clear that she wore no shoes. Her feet were clean. For some reason, that simple fact made Rayne feel much better.

The woman did not seem surprised to see them. She moved onto the steps and lifted her face, focusing her attention on Lyr. "I thought you would not make it before dark. You'd best tie up the horses and get inside. Supper's waiting."

"How did you know we were coming?" Rayne asked, her heart turning over at the very idea that they'd been expected.

The woman smiled. "The two of you have been making quite a lot of noise, and the animals are all disturbed by your presence. They don't take to intruders well, and they speak to me of disorder in their swamp.

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