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"Birth Curse" Nora Roberts. Family Curse by Nora Roberts Family Curse read

Current page: 1 (total book has 21 pages) [available reading excerpt: 12 pages]

Nora Roberts
Ancestral Curse

* * *

To my inner circle - relatives and friends

Future events cast their shadow back.

Thomas Campbell

Home decoration - friends visiting it.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

1

Autumn 1268

Mist was rising over the water. Twisted in rings, it was like breathing. Aemon sat at the oars. The sun, which had risen from a night's sleep, woke up the chirping of birds and now sent a radiance, pale and cold, to the earth. From the green meadows, between which the river wound, came the cock crow. Sheep bleated.

What familiar sounds. For five years now they have greeted him every morning.

But that was not his native land. These sounds, so familiar and so cozy, will never be the sounds of home for him anyway.

And he rushed with all his heart to where he was born. At the thought of home, his bones began to ache, like an old man in wet weather, and his heart began to bleed, like a rejected lover.

In the depths, hidden by longing and pain, rage smoldered, ready to flare up and gurgle, drying up the throat like thirst.

There were nights when he dreamed of his home, their hut in the middle of the forest, where he knew every tree, every bend in the path. Sometimes dreams were almost tangible, as if it were not a dream, but reality, and he almost physically inhaled the smoke of the hearth and felt the smell of lavender coming from the bed, which his mother always put in her linen - for its ability to give good rest and sweet dreams.

The Swarthy Witch - that's what they called her, I must say, with all due respect, because no one else could boast of such powerful energy and magical power. And my mother was kind and good. On such nights, when he dreamed of the house, when the melodies of songs reached his ears, Aemon often woke up in tears.

He quickly wiped them off his face. He is already a man, he is ten years old, and he is the head of the family. Just like his father used to.

And tears ... Tears are the lot of women.

And he had a sister to take care of, Aemon reminded himself as he folded his oars and let the boat float with the current, waiting for a bite. Even though Brannog is the eldest, he is the only man in the family. He swore to protect her and Teigan and will not back down from his word. The sword of their grandfather passed to him. And when the time comes, he will take this sword in his hands.

And the time will come.

Because there were other dreams that drove him more into horror than into melancholy. Dreams about Kavon, the black sorcerer. After these dreams, Aemon felt how icy lumps of fear were born in him, from which even the rage smoldering in his soul cooled down. It was so terrible that he wanted to shout "mother!" - like a baby in a moment of danger.

But he couldn't afford to be afraid. Mom is gone, she sacrificed herself to save him and his sisters, and this happened just a few hours after the death of their father at the hands of Kavon.

Aemon remembered his father with difficulty. In order to recall his image, the image of the tall and proud Daiti, the blond and cheerful head of their family, it was necessary to resort more and more often to the help of fire. But to remember my mother, it was enough just to close my eyes. He just saw her, pale on the verge of death, saw her standing in front of their house in the forest that foggy morning and watching them, her children, they leave, and his heart breaks from grief, and a new one is already beating in his veins, power-filled energy.

Since that morning he is no longer a boy, he is one of three, now in a triple unity personifying the Swarthy Witch, and he is bound by blood and an oath - to end the one whom their mother failed to defeat.

In the depths of his soul, Aemon longed for one thing - that began. I longed to end my stay at this farm with my relatives, where the morning begins with a welcoming cock crow and the fields are filled with sheep bleating. A man and a magician matured in him, overwhelmed by the desire to speed up the passage of time, to quickly gain strength that would give him the opportunity to wield his grandfather's sword with confidence, without trembling in his hands. The desire to bring closer the time when he can fully use his generic magical abilities and witchcraft techniques. The time when he would shed Kaewon's blood and turn it to ashes.

However, in the dream he remained a boy, inexperienced and weak. In his night dreams, he was pursued by a wolf that Kevon turned into, a wolf with a shimmering red stone around his neck - this stone was the focus of the black magical power of Kevon the wolf. And in a dream, the real blood of Aemon flowed on the ground - his and his sisters, warm and scarlet.

In the morning, after the most difficult dreams, Aemon would go to the river, row and row to the fishing place to be alone there, whereas on ordinary days he was eager for company, the lively conversations of the country house and the appetizing smells of the kitchen.

But after the dreams in which he bled, he needed solitude - and no one reproached him for not helping to milk the cows, or clean the dung, or feed the cattle. No, not on a morning like this.

And here he was sitting in the boat, a thin ten-year-old boy with a shock of chestnut hair disheveled from sleep, wide-open blue father's eyes and a powerful energy that was still emerging in him, inherited from his mother.

He listened to the sounds of the waking day, patiently waited for the bite to begin, and nibbled on an oatmeal cake that he grabbed from his aunt in the kitchen.

And rediscovered himself.

The river, the silence, the gentle rocking of the boat reminded him of the last truly happy day spent with his mother and sisters.

He remembered that after the illness that had haunted his mother all the long and frosty winter, when she, pale and weak, could hardly move her legs, that day Sorka - that was her mother's name - looked surprisingly cheerful. They unanimously counted the days to Biltein 1
The second of the main seasonal holidays of the Celts. It was held in the middle of the segment between the spring equinox and the summer solstice, that is, it fell on April 30 or May 1 and was accompanied by ritual bonfires. - Note here and below. per.

When the father was supposed to return. Then, dreamed Aemon, they would all sit around the fire, drink honey-sweetened tea with something tasty, and listen to their father's stories of his exploits in war and hunting.

They would throw a real feast, he dreamed, and his mother would get better again.

On that day, so engraved in his memory - they fished on the river and laughed carelessly - he believed that all this would be, and the thought warmed that soon his father would be with them.

But the father did not return. Kevon used a black spell and killed the fearless Daiti. And the Swarthy Witch Sorka, even though she turned him to ashes. He also ruined her, but by some miracle he himself survived.

That Kevon was alive, Aemon also knew about this from dreams. And one more thing - this was suggested to him by goosebumps, sometimes running down his back. And the sisters' eyes told him it was true.

And yet that day, a bright spring day on the river, will forever remain with him. Even now, feeling the bite, he mentally returned to that day and saw himself, five years old, pulling a silvery fish out of the water.

And filled with the same fishing pride.

“Eilish will be pleased,” said her mother’s voice.

He threw the fish into a bucket of water to keep it from spoiling, and his mother smiled at him.

The vision came, prompted by his incessant yearning, and brought relief. Aemon baited the hook again, and the sun was already warm and slowly eating away at the fibers of the mist.

“One is not enough for us.

On that long-ago day, my mother said exactly these words, he remembered it well.

So you'll get more.

“I would be more happy to fish in our river!”

“One day it will. The day will come, son, and you will return home. The day will come, and those who go from you will fish in our river, walk in our forest. I promise!

Tears welled up in the boy's eyes, clouding his vision, and the image of his mother began to blur. He held back his tears so he could see her more clearly. To see her flowing black hair to the waist, her dark eyes full of love. And the radiant power emanating from it. He still felt this energy, but it was only a vision.

"Why didn't you manage to destroy it, Mom?" Why didn't she stay alive?

“So it was ordained by the gods. My beloved, my boy, my heart, but to save you and your sisters, I would give more than my life!

You gave more than your life. You gave us your power, almost to a drop. If you had left her...

- My time has come. And you got what was yours by birthright. And this is my main joy, and you should not think otherwise! In the vanishing mist, she shone with a silvery light. “I will always live in you, Faithful Aemon. I am in your blood, in your heart, in your thoughts. You are not alone.

- I miss you!

He felt a kiss on his cheek, he was enveloped in warmth, and he felt such a familiar mother's smell. And in that moment, even for a moment, he turned into a child.

“I want to be brave and strong. And I will, I swear to you! I won't let Brannog and Teigan get hurt.

“You will protect each other. You three must stick together. Together you will be stronger than I was alone.

- I will kill him? “It was Aemon's deepest and blackest dream. - Will I win?

“I can't tell you that. I only know that he will never take away what you have. This you can only give - as I gave you. He bears my curse and my seal. And all who go from him will bear this sign, just as all who go from you will carry the light. My blood, Aemon. She turned her hand palm up and showed a thin cut. - And yours.

He felt instant pain, saw a wound on his arm. And pressed his hand to his mother's hand.

“The blood of you three, descendants of Sorka, will overcome him, even if it takes a thousand years. Believe in yourself! This is the main thing.

She kissed him again and smiled again.

Look, you don't have one!

The rod bent, the vision disappeared.

Well, not alone anymore.

He pulled a fluttering fish out of the river, and thought about how fearless he would be. And strong. And when the time comes, his strength will be enough to win.

The boy carefully looked at the palm - no trace. But now his head is clear. Sorka's blood flows in him, her gift lives on. One day he will pass them on to his sons and daughters. And if it happens that he is not destined to destroy Kevon with his own hands, his children, his grandchildren or great-grandchildren will do it ...

But still, he believed with all his might that he would do everything himself, and he prayed to the gods about it.

Until then, he's poking around. It's good to be a man, he thought, to hunt and fish, to get food. And thus repay relatives for shelter and care.

Ever since Aemon realized he was the man of the house, he had learned to be patient. And now, when he was approaching the shore, there were already four fish in his boat. He tied the boat, and strung the catch on a rope.

He stood a little, looking at the water - now it sparkled under the rays of the sun, which had already risen high. He thought about his mother, how her voice sounded, how her hair smelled. Her words will stay with him forever.

Aemon decided that he would go through the copse. The forest here is not as thick as at home, but the forest is the forest, he told himself.

He will bring Eilish fish, drink tea by the hearth. And then help harvest the last crop.

And Amon started walking towards the house on the outskirts of a small farm, but suddenly he heard a piercing thin cry. Smiling to himself, he reached into his canvas bag and pulled out a leather glove. As soon as he put it on and put out his hand, Roybird dived from the clouds, spreading his wings.

- Good morning to you! – Eemon looked into the golden eyes of the hawk, felt an invisible connection with the bird, his faithful friend and mentor. He touched the magic amulet on his neck, received from the hands of his mother - she made it for her son herself, using blood magic to protect. A hawk was depicted on the amulet.

- Nice day, huh? So clear and fresh! The harvest is almost harvested, the holiday is coming soon,” he continued, walking and carrying a bird on his arm. “The equinox, as you know. When the night begins to conquer the day, just as Gron the Radiant defeated Lei-Lau Gefes. We will celebrate the birth of Mabon, son of the protector of the earth, Modron 2
Characters of Welsh mythology, one of the branches of the mythology of the ancient Celts.

Surely there will be honey cakes. I'll save a piece for you.

The hawk rubbed its head against the boy's cheek, gentle as a kitten.

“I dreamed of Kevon again. I dreamed about the house, and then my mother - after she gave us almost all her strength and sent us away from home. For our salvation. I see it all, Roybird. How she poisoned him with her kiss, how she strained the remnants of her will and ignited to destroy him. And he took her life. And yet... In the ashes into which she turned him, I saw some movement. The movement of some forces of evil. And yet - a red flicker, reflections of his energy.

Aemon fell silent, concentrated the energy, felt it. He felt the heartbeat of a shy bunny rushing into the bushes, the hunger of a newly fledged chick waiting for its mother with breakfast.

He felt his sisters. I felt sheep, horses.

And no threat.

He didn't find us. I would know. You would have seen him too and told me. But he's looking, he's stalking, and I feel that too.

Fearless blue eyes darkened; the soft, boyish mouth became masculinely hard.

“I'm not going to hide forever. One day I'll go hunting myself, it's not for nothing that the blood of Daiti and Sorka flows in me.

Aemon raised his hand, took a handful of air, clenched it in a fist, twisted it and sent it in the direction of the tree with a gentle movement. Branches swayed, birds flew up from them.

"I'm going to get stronger and stronger, right?" he whispered and walked towards the house, hurrying to please Eilish with a rich catch.

It was the end of the fifth year since Brannog bore the burden of household chores, not shunning anything that was entrusted to her. She cooked, cleaned, nursed the kids, because Eilish always either held the child at her chest or carried the next one under her heart. Brannog helped to sow the grain and care for the plantings. And among the harvesters, she was among the most dexterous.

She honestly worked, and she even liked it - everything that she did, she did in good faith. Eilish and her husband were very kind to her. Both are sympathetic, decent - the salt of the earth, they talk about such - they gave three orphans more than shelter.

They gave them a family, and this is the most priceless gift that a person can receive.

Didn't mom know this? Would she otherwise send her children to Eilish? Yes, Sorka, even in the most difficult hour, would not give her children to anyone, not being sure that they would be met with love and kindness!

However, Brannog was no longer a child at twelve. And what matured in her, grew and awakened, especially since she started studying a year ago, required some effort.

To keep such strength in oneself, to turn one's gaze away from the inexhaustible light, which was becoming brighter and brighter, became more difficult day by day. And more boring. But she respected Eilish, and her aunt was afraid of magic and magical energy, even her own.

What my mother asked for that terrible morning, Brannog fulfilled. Took my brother and sister south, away from their home in Mayo. She chose the route away from the roads, and locked her grief deep in her heart, where only she alone could hear how it was getting bitter and bitter.

And in this heart lived a thirst for revenge, a desire to master the power given to her and to study further, to comprehend magical mastery in order to finally defeat Kevon, once and for all.

But sweet Eilish needed only her family - her husband, children, household. Why not? Her purpose was to devote herself to her home and land, a quiet, calm life. Hadn't she risked enough by adopting Sorka's children? Taking under the wing of those to whom Kevon was most eager - and whom he hunted?

She deserved gratitude, and loyalty, and respect.

But the power that lived in Brannog was begging to be released. We had to make decisions.

She saw her brother returning from the river with a catch in the company of his bird. I felt how even on the outskirts of the house, away from prying eyes, he tried his strength, as he often did. And their little sister, Teigan, did the same. Carried away by the conversation about the jam brewing planned for today, Eilish did not notice anything. To Brannog's bewilderment, she suppressed the abilities she had and used them only for minor reasons - to sweeten jam or make chickens lay bigger eggs.

Brannog told herself that it was worth the sacrifice - the expectation of new knowledge and skills, the release of her nature to a new, higher level. Here, with their aunt, the brother and sister were in a safe place, they were not in danger. Just like their mother wanted. Teigan, who had been grieving inconsolably for a long time, now laughed again and indulged in games. She cheerfully bore her share of household chores, looked after the cattle, galloped with a warlike air on her big gray Alastar.

True, at night her sister sometimes cried, but quickly calmed down as soon as Brannog took her to her.

The exception was when Kevon appeared to her in a dream. Teygan had such dreams, and Amon, and Brannog herself. Of late, they had become more frequent and more distinct, so much so that even after waking up, the voice of the vile sorcerer continued to sound in Brannog's ears.

We have to make decisions. This waiting, life in this shelter cannot go on forever, it must end one way or another.

In the evening, Brannog scraped potatoes, freshly harvested, with soft skins. She stirred the stew gently simmering on the fire and stamped her foot to the beat of the melody that her aunt's husband was extracting from a small harmonica.

The house was warm and cozy, it was a happy home, full of delicious smells and cheerful voices. And the laughter of Eilish, who now began to dance, seating the youngest on her hip.

Family, Brannog thought again. Well-fed and well-groomed. In a warm and cozy house, where herbs are dried in the kitchen, where cheerful, rosy-cheeked children run.

What else does she lack? How she would like to be content with that!

She caught Aemon's gaze, the gaze of his bold and blue father's eyes, and felt the pressure of his energy against her skin. Yes, she thought, Aemon could see right through her. Except when she deliberately puts a barrier in front of him.

She gave him a little nudge back, a little warning to mind his own business. He winced, and she smiled good-naturedly in response.

After the evening meal, it was necessary to wash the dishes and put the children to bed. The eldest of them, seven-year-old Mov, whimpered, as usual, that she still did not want to sleep. Seamus lay down at once, smiling at the coming dreams. The twins that Brannog helped to come into the world babbled like magpies, little Brigid sucked her thumb, and the baby fell asleep before his mother carried him to the cradle.

I wondered, Brannog wondered, if Eilish and her son, that little angel, knew that without witchcraft they both wouldn't exist. If not for Brannog with her gift, her ability to see, heal, act on the situation, without fear and delay, they would both bleed to death - childbirth was so difficult, painful and wrong.

It was never discussed out loud, but it seemed to her that Eilish knew.

Now Eilish straightened up, holding her hand on the small of her back - the next baby was already developing in her womb.

Now, good night and sweet dreams everyone. Brannog, would you like to have tea with me? I wouldn't hurt any of your sedative preparations, otherwise this bastard today something was very painfully pissed off.

- Certainly. I'll brew now. - And, as usual, I will add a little magic for good health and easy childbirth, she mentally added. “He is healthy and I suspect one will pull as much as both twins.

You're not wrong this time either. You should get more rest.

- What kind of rest can a woman with six children have, and even when the seventh is on the way? I feel quite well. She looked at Brannog for confirmation.

“Regardless of how you feel, you need rest.

“You are my greatest helper and comforter, Brannog.

- Hope.

Something's wrong here, Brannog thought as she made her tea. She felt that her aunt's nerves were tense, and this made her nervous.

“Now that the crops have been harvested, you can get down to your sewing.” This is a necessary thing, and you will just have a rest. I can take over the kitchen, Teigan and Mov will help me, and Mov, I must admit, is already an excellent cook herself.

Yes, she can't take that away. My special pride!

“And if the girls in the kitchen manage themselves, Aemon and I can help my uncle with the hunt.” I know you don't want me to carry a heavy bow, but why shouldn't everyone do what they're good at?

Eilish looked away for a moment.

Well, well, thought Brannog, she understands everything, and more than that, she wants to ask her and Aemon not to use their gift.

- I loved your mother.

- And she - you.

We haven't seen much in recent years. But now and then she made herself felt - in her own way, of course. On the night when Mov was born, on her cradle, which Bardan made with his own hands, that little blanket suddenly appeared - her daughter is still sleeping under it.

She always spoke of you with love!

“And she sent the three of you to me. You, Aemon, Teigan. She came to me in a dream, asked me to give you shelter.

“You never told me,” Brannog whispered. She brought tea and sat down by the hearth next to Eilish.

“That was two days before you arrived.

Brannog folded her arms over her eye-colored gray skirt and stared into the fire.

- It took us eight days to get to your farm. It was her spirit that came to you. How I wish I could see her again! But now it only happens in dreams.

- She's with you. I see it in you. In Amon. In Teigan. But you have it the most. Her strength and beauty. Her passionate love for her family. Brannog, you're big now... At your age, it's time to think about a family.

- I have a family.

“I'm talking about your own. What was your mom's. You need your own house, a man, to cultivate the land for you, you need your children.

Eilish drank tea, Brannog remained silent.

“Good man Fiel. Reliable. As long as his wife was alive, he was a good husband to her, believe me. He needs a wife, his children need a mother. He has a nice house, much bigger than ours. He would give well for you. And Aemon and Teigan would also accept.

– Are you serious? How can I marry Fiela? He’s so…” She wanted to say “old”, but bit her tongue, realizing that Eilish and her husband were almost the same age and not much younger than Fiel.

"You'll be fine with him." And my brother and sister too. Eilish picked up her sewing to keep her hands busy. “I would never have started such a conversation if I hadn’t been sure that he would never offend you.” He's a handsome man, Brannog. Courteous. Will you go for a walk with him?

- I ... Aunt, I don’t perceive Fiela as a gentleman at all.

- But if you walk with him, maybe you will begin to perceive. With these words, Eilish smiled as if she knew some secret. A woman needs a man to feed her, protect her, give her children. A kind man with a strong and well-ordered house, with a pleasant appearance ...

- Did you marry Bardan because he was kind?

“Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone for him!” For now, just think. We will tell him that we will return to this conversation after the equinox. Think. OK?

Brannog got up.

“Does he know who I am, Eilish?”

Her strength stirred in her, the one that she had kept in herself all the time. She stirred with self-respect. And the fire that danced on her face was not only a reflection of the hearth.

“I am the eldest daughter of the Swarthy Witch Mayo. And before sacrificing her life, she gave me her power - me, and Aemon, and Teygan. We three are one. We are together - the Swarthy Witch.

- You're still a child!

- Listen to you, so for witchcraft and magical energy I am still small, but for marriage with Fiel - just right.

Recognizing the validity of this remark, Eilish blushed.

“Brannog, dear, has it been bad for you here all these years?

- Fine. And I am so grateful to you!

- Relatives without any gratitude should share with each other.

- It's right. Relatives must share.

Eilish put down her sewing and took Brannog's hands.

“You will be like behind a stone wall, daughter of my sister. And you will be fine. I am sure you will be loved. Can you wish for more?

“More is myself,” Brannog said softly, and went to bed.

But sleep did not come to her. She lay quietly next to Teigan, waiting for the conversation between Eilish and Bardan to subside. They must be talking about this marriage. About this good, reasonable game for her. And they convince themselves that her resistance is only external, from embarrassment, she is just nervous. After all, she's still a girl!

Just like they had once convinced themselves that she, Aemon and Teigan were children like everyone else.

Brannog got up quietly, slipped her feet into soft ankle boots, and threw the shawl over her shoulders. She needed air. Air. Night. And the moon.

She silently descended from the attic and quietly opened the door.

Her dog Katl, who was sleeping near the fire, immediately jumped up and without the slightest delay jumped out into the street, ahead of her.

Now she could breathe. The coolness of the night blew across her cheeks, the silence, like a gentle hand, calmed the storm raging in her soul. There was freedom here. Here she is as free as she wants.

Two shadows - a girl and her faithful dog - slipped into the thicket. He could hear the murmur of the river, the sigh of the wind in the crowns of the trees. Brannog could smell the earth and the slightly pungent peat smoke coming from the house's chimney.

You can build a magic circle, try to call the spirit of the mother. Today she needs her mother. In five years she never cried, never allowed herself to shed a single tear. But now she wanted to sit on the ground, bury her face in her mother's chest and cry.

Brannog rested her hand on the amulet she wore without removing it, the image of a dog, blood sorcery, Sorka's gift.

Whether to keep fidelity to one's blood, to one's nature? Do you listen to your own needs, innermost desires and aspirations? Or, perhaps, discard them like a child's toy, taking the safety and future of a brother and sister as the main thing?

“Mom,” she whispered, “what should I do? What would you like from me? You gave your life for us. Can I settle for less?

Brannog felt the energy field approaching her and merging with her own energy, like fingers intertwining. Turning around, she peered into the shadows. My heart beat wildly, and a thought flashed through my mind: Mom.

But it turned out to be Aemon, he stepped out into the circle of moonlight, holding Teigan's hand.

- You should be in bed! What did you think - to walk through the forest at night?

- And what do you do yourself? Amon snapped.

- I'm the oldest.

And I am the head of the family.

“The fact that you have a rattle between your legs does not make you the head of the family!”

Teigan chuckled, then rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her sister.

- Do not be angry! You need us. You were in my dream. And you cried.

- I'm not crying.

- You cry. Right here. Teigan put her hand on her sister's heart. Her bottomless black eyes—exactly like their mother's—saw Brannog's face. - What are you sad about?

- I'm not sad. I just came out to think. Be alone and think.

You are thinking too loud! Aemon grumbled, still pouting at the "rattle" remark.

“Didn’t someone tell you that it’s not good to eavesdrop on other people’s thoughts?”

How can I not listen if you shout them at the top of your voice?

- Stop it! Let's not quarrel! – Teigan, although the youngest, had a strong character. "Let's not fight," she repeated. “Brannog is angry, Eamon is on pins and needles, and I have the feeling you get when you're full of pudding.

- Are you unwell? Brannog's anger vanished. She looked into her sister's eyes.

“No… that’s not the point… It’s just that something… went wrong. I can feel it. I think you do too. Even for sure. So let's not fight! We are relatives. Without letting go of Brannog's hand, Teigan took her brother's hand. Tell me, sister, what makes you sad?

“I…I want to make a circle.” I want to feel the light in me. I want to outline the circle of light and sit in it with you together. With both of you.

“We don’t often get that,” Teigan said. “That’s because Eilish wouldn’t like it.

But she took us in. We must respect her in her own home. But now we are not in her house, and she does not need to know this. I need light. I want to talk to you alone, inside a circle where no one can hear us.

- Let me do it! Teygan volunteered. - I practice. When Alastair and I leave, I always train.

Brannog sighed and stroked her little sister's golden hair.

- Well done. Let's start.

Stop it! Let's not quarrel! - Teigan, although the youngest, had a strong character. "Let's not fight," she repeated. “Brannog is angry, Eamon is all on pins and needles, and I have the feeling you get when you're full of pudding.

Are you unwell? - Brannog's anger vanished. She looked into her sister's eyes.

No... that's not the point... It's just that something... went wrong. I can feel it. I think you do too. Even for sure. So let's not fight! We are relatives. Without letting go of Brannog's hand, Teygan took her brother's hand. - Tell me, sister, what makes you sad?

I... I want to make a circle. I want to feel the light in me. I want to outline the circle of light and sit in it with you together. With both of you.

We don't get that often," Teigan said. - That's because Eilish wouldn't like it.

Let me do it! Teygan volunteered. - I practice. When Alastair and I leave, I always train.

Brannog sighed and stroked her little sister's golden hair.

Well done. Let's start.

Brannog followed Teigan's actions, watched as her little sister summoned light, then fire, praised the goddess, and formed a circle. Wide enough to fit Cattle, Brannog thought with joy and gratitude.

You did great. I should have done more with you, but I...

You honored Eilish.

And don’t forget,” Aemon put in, “that if we use our energy to the fullest, then He finds out. And it will certainly come.

Yes. - Brannog sank to the ground and hugged her faithful dog. “Mom wanted us to be safe. She sacrificed everything for us. With my strength, with my life. She was convinced that she would overcome his and then nothing will threaten us. She could not know that the forces of evil with whom he made a deal would be able to revive him from the ashes.

Revive - yes, but not as strong as he was.

She looked at her brother and nodded.

Yes, take it easy. At that moment. It seems to me that he feeds on someone else's energy. He seeks those who are endowed with it, takes their power and becomes stronger himself. And my mother wanted nothing to threaten us. Brannog was silent. “Fiel wants to take me as his wife.

Amon opened his mouth.

Fiel? But he's old!

No older than Bardan.

Brannog laughed and felt a little lighter in her soul.

It seems that men want young wives. To give birth to a bunch of children for them, continue to welcome them in bed and cook food for them.

You will not marry Fiela! Teigan said belligerently.

He is kind and even likable. And his house and household are bigger than those of Eilish and Bardan. And he will welcome both of you too.

You will not marry Fiela! Teigan repeated stubbornly. - You don't love him.

And I don't want to love. I don't need love at all.

And we should strive! You can even live with your eyes closed - love will find you anyway! Forgot how mom and dad loved each other?

I didn't forget. I just don't expect that kind of love. Here's what you might see someday. You are so pretty... Smart!

I'll meet you for sure. Teigan didn't object. - As are you. And Amon. And what we own will go to those we bring into the world. This is what our mother wanted. She wanted us to continue to live.

We would have continued to live, and live well, if I had married Fiel.

And my mother ordered me to protect you! Amon folded his arms across his chest. - And I forbid you!

Let's not quarrel! Teigan repeated once more, grabbing their hands and squeezing them tightly. Fire ran through his intertwined fingers. And you don't have to take care of me. I'm not a baby, Brannog, I'm as old as you were when we left home. You won't marry just to give me a new roof over my head! And you will not forget what you are and what power lives in you. You are not Eilish, but Brannog, the daughter of Sorka and Daity. You are the Swarthy Witch - and always will be.

One day we his destroy," Aemon announced solemnly. “We will avenge our father, our mother, and we will destroy even the ashes into which we turn him. Mom told me that we will do it, even if it takes a thousand years.

Did she tell you that?

Yes. This morning. She appeared to me when I was on the river, in silence and fog. When I need it, I always find it there.

Ancestral Curse Nora Roberts

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Title: Birth Curse

About "Birth Curse" by Nora Roberts

Interesting, informative and slightly magical books attract readers not only with frank scenes and plot, but also with attractive characters, bright scenery, and a twisted plot. Nora Roberts did not stand aside, presenting her work “Family Curse”. What is this novel about? About hate, love or maybe passion? There are all three components here that add drama, tenderness and fire to the book.

Nora Roberts is a modern American writer, the author of numerous love and detective novels that surprise the reader with the sharpness of thought, an interesting plot, and bright, emotional protagonists. Nora writes in such a way that it involuntarily takes your breath away, her detective stories are sublime, unusual, you want to re-read them again and again.

In the foreground of the book "Family Curse" we see the young Connor O'Dwyer, who comes from a family of hereditary witches. This young man is incredibly attractive in appearance, knows his own worth and has crowds of numerous fans who only dream of him paying attention to them. However, the guy does not care what others feel, he only needs Mira Quinn - a girl with gypsy eyes and an incredibly beautiful body.

In his love, young and still inexperienced in witchcraft, Connor does not notice that his family's past is about to overtake him. The demons that used to trouble his family now came to him. They came to destroy what he loves and appreciates. For him, the hounds from the past came as a surprise, he was not ready to meet face to face with them. What to do next? How to protect his beloved Mira, if he does not know how to defend himself?

Until the moment when Connor came face to face with reality, he lived an ordinary life - having fun, meeting friends and loving Mira. For him, there were no concepts of “curse”, “duty”, “kind”. All he wanted was a calm and measured life. But is it possible for someone who is a descendant of a witch? Conor has a lot to learn, a lot to learn, but he manages to understand one thing - if you want to live, you need to fight.

Now he is determined to fight and protect his love, but will he have the strength? Will the novice and inexperienced in magic the descendant of the witch be able to resist the dark charms? What will his beloved do at this time? Will the showdown between the worlds: past and present affect her? You can learn about this and much more if you start reading this work.

In her book, Nora Roberts made the reader go to the end, turn page after page in search of answers to their questions. Reading the work is fascinating and interesting, you involuntarily begin to think about what choice you would make yourself in the place of the main characters, and this is what attracts.

On our site about books lifeinbooks.net you can download for free without registration or read online the book "Family Curse" by Nora Roberts in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and a real pleasure to read. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For novice writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you can try your hand at writing.

Nora Roberts

Ancestral Curse

To my inner circle - relatives and friends

Future events cast their shadow back.

Thomas Campbell

Home decoration - friends visiting it.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Autumn 1268

What familiar sounds. For five years now they have greeted him every morning.

But that was not his native land. These sounds, so familiar and so cozy, will never be the sounds of home for him anyway.

And he rushed with all his heart to where he was born. At the thought of home, his bones began to ache, like an old man in wet weather, and his heart began to bleed, like a rejected lover.

In the depths, hidden by longing and pain, rage smoldered, ready to flare up and gurgle, drying up the throat like thirst.

He quickly wiped them off his face. He is already a man, he is ten years old, and he is the head of the family. Just like his father used to.

And tears ... Tears are the lot of women.

And the time will come.

But he couldn't afford to be afraid. Mom is gone, she sacrificed herself to save him and his sisters, and this happened just a few hours after the death of their father at the hands of Kavon.

But after the dreams in which he bled, he needed solitude - and no one reproached him for not helping to milk the cows, or clean the dung, or feed the cattle. No, not on a morning like this.

He listened to the sounds of the waking day, patiently waited for the bite to begin, and nibbled on an oatmeal cake that he grabbed from his aunt in the kitchen.

And rediscovered himself.

The river, the silence, the gentle rocking of the boat reminded him of the last truly happy day spent with his mother and sisters.

He remembered that after the illness that had haunted his mother all the long and frosty winter, when she, pale and weak, could hardly move her legs, that day Sorka - that was her mother's name - looked surprisingly cheerful. They unanimously counted the days until Biltein, when the father was supposed to return. Then, dreamed Aemon, they would all sit around the fire, drink honey-sweetened tea with something tasty, and listen to their father's stories of his exploits in war and hunting.

They would throw a real feast, he dreamed, and his mother would get better again.

On that day, so engraved in his memory - they fished on the river and laughed carelessly - he believed that all this would be, and the thought warmed that soon his father would be with them.

And filled with the same fishing pride.

“Eilish will be pleased,” said her mother’s voice.

He threw the fish into a bucket of water to keep it from spoiling, and his mother smiled at him.

The vision came, prompted by his incessant yearning, and brought relief. Aemon baited the hook again, and the sun was already warm and slowly eating away at the fibers of the mist.

“One is not enough for us.

On that long-ago day, my mother said exactly these words, he remembered it well.

So you'll get more.

“I would be more happy to fish in our river!”

“One day it will. The day will come, son, and you will return home. The day will come, and those who go from you will fish in our river, walk in our forest. I promise!