Breath of Yesterday (The Curse Series)
Read Breath of Yesterday (The Curse Series) Online
Authors: Emily Bold
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2012 Emily Bold
English translation copyright © 2014 Katja Bell
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
The Curse: Breath of Yesterday
was first published in 2012 by Emily Bold as
The Curse – Im Schatten der Schwestern
. Translated from German by Katja Bell. Published in English by Skyscape in 2014.
Published by Skyscape, New York
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Skyscape are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477847145
ISBN-10: 1477847146
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request.
For my family who makes me strong, even when I feel weak.
C
ONTENTS
P
ROLOGUE
Scotland, February 1740
E
veryone at Castle Galthair was in high spirits. Clan Stuart had gathered to celebrate Imbolc, the festival of rebirth and the return of the light. The tables in the Great Hall were decked with heather, celandine, and laurel branches, whose earthy scents fused with the aroma of freshly baked bannock bread. Even the maids attended to their tasks with smiles today—for the festivities also signaled the day that the laird traditionally paid them for the past year’s work.
Nathaira Stuart didn’t share in her servants’ joyful anticipation. After all, she was the one tasked with watching over the preparations and getting the guest chambers ready. Not a moment ago one of the kitchen hands had inconvenienced her by hurting his arm on the bread oven. As if she had nothing better to do than to look after clumsy little butterfingers! Fortunately, the boy was now patched up and installed in the kitchen with a soothing cup of milk, finally allowing Nathaira a precious moment to herself. She swung back the shiny black braid that reached all the way to her hips; then she smoothed her emerald-colored dress. Silver embroidery on the front of her dress emphasized her small waist, but that remained hidden under an apron while she was on duty. She now took off the apron and handed it to one of the kitchen maids.
“I wish no more trouble from here on. You all know what is expected of you. If you want your pay, you had better not disappoint my father.”
The girls curtsied deeply as Nathaira gracefully disappeared from the servants’ realm and slipped back into her own world.
The stress and the heat had gotten to her, so she stepped into the castle yard and raised her face up toward the sun. While the wind dried her sweat, she enjoyed the feeling of leaving winter behind. Just the day before—as though the sky itself wanted to join the festivities—it had stopped snowing, and the heavy cloud cover that had weighed on them for two full months had finally opened up. The castle courtyard was still blanketed in snow, and the first rays of sunshine made it sparkle and glitter as if made of countless diamonds. Icicles hung like thin crystal blades from the beams supporting the parapet wall.
The startled cries of several men prompted Nathaira to look up. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed a snow avalanche tumbling from the top of the tower, almost burying the handful of warriors beneath it. She stretched her neck to better see the men who had now burst into laughter.
Sean McLean was brushing snow off his boots, and he—by all appearances—had been the intended victim of the little prank. Nathaira recognized her brother Cathal among the men. His best friend, Blair McLean, was there, too, enjoying a laugh with Sean, his younger brother. But Nathaira didn’t pay much notice to them.
Instead, she fixed her gaze on the last man within the group—a blond giant whose size alone sent pleasant shivers down her spine. His unruly flaxen hair blew in the wind, and his muscular upper arms were naked under a vest of leather and fur. The bone-chilling cold didn’t seem to bother him, as he was laughing—a sound that made it hard for Nathaira to breathe. As if feeling Nathaira’s presence, he turned around and looked her straight in the eye. He tilted his head in a silent greeting and elbowed Sean. The men stuck their heads together and talked. Upon separating, they both drew their swords.
Nathaira squinted, blinded by both the sun’s reflection on the snow and the glistening sword blades. What were those two up to?
Muscles and tendons tensed as they took combat positions. Then a whole band of men came running, and the stable boy used his cap to collect the first bets on the fight’s outcome. Sean and the blond giant circled each other like beasts of prey, sounding out each other’s strengths and weaknesses before the fight even started. Even the guards on the parapet wall stuck out their heads and cheered them on.
In Sean he faced a skilled fighter and master swordsman, yet the stranger with undeniably Nordic ancestry smiled calmly. Cathal stepped between the two men, talking, but the giant barely seemed to listen as he gazed unblinkingly at Nathaira. When Cathal left the circle, Sean widened his stance and thrust his blade upward. The Nordic stranger still didn’t look but instead raised his eyebrows and winked at her before nonchalantly fending off the downthrust of the attacking blade. He then went on the offense, and it seemed clear who would emerge the winner. His blows came quickly, with great precision and a strength that kept driving Sean farther and farther back even as he skillfully dodged the attacks. It was pure pleasure just to watch this unknown warrior. Like a dancer he elegantly pursued his opponent, warding off his attacks with a slight turn to the side before immediately proceeding to the next blow. Snow crunched under boots; metal blades clunked together.
Nathaira shivered from the cold but couldn’t bring herself to turn her back on the performance. The Norseman mesmerized her. Just at that moment, the castle wall cut off Sean’s retreat, but he managed to clear space for himself underneath the sword from above with a swift sweep from below. He threw himself under the next oncoming blow and slid on icy ground underneath his opponent’s grasp and over to the other side. He leapt to his feet behind the giant’s back and suddenly was at a clear advantage.
The stranger, seeing the blade aimed at his throat, turned and lifted his head to give Nathaira a triumphant smile—as if he had just won the fight. Slowly he lifted his weapon, slid it back into the leather sheath on his back, and raised his hands in resignation.
Sean laughed, moved in closer, and lowered his blade. Then his seemingly defeated opponent kicked a load of snow into his face. This moment of inattention was Sean’s downfall. The blond giant leapt up and grabbed a parapet beam, swinging himself forward and up enough to kick Sean’s sword out of his hands before landing on his knees on top of the parapet. In one fluid move he pulled his sword from its sheath and threw himself at a startled Sean, whose skull he could easily have split in two with one blow. He crashed into Sean’s chest, landed, and drove his blade into a pile of snow.
Nathaira held her breath as the stranger’s eyes met hers, offering his triumph as a gift. It was as though in that moment he’d sworn an oath to honor her with all his strength if only she’d let him.
The crimson in her cheeks no longer stemmed from the heat in the kitchen but from the fire this man had stirred in her.
She blinked, and the magic moment was gone. The stranger rose, pulled Sean to his feet, and went to collect his bets. Amid the cheering crowd of onlookers, Nathaira managed to escape undetected back into the Great Hall.
Her heart was pounding, and she kneaded her trembling hands. Who was this man? Maybe the new liegeman Cathal had told her about? Alasdair Buchanan, the Viking outlaw who had left his home and joined Grant’s men? The Nordic ancestry of the stranger was undeniable, and Nathaira wondered what he must have done to be made an outlaw.
