“From the broad, wind-whipped expanse of estuary, the oarsmen had struggled upstream, obviously determined to deliver their cargo however violent the weather.Agricola was returning from the bath-house, a heavy sheepskin cloak wrapped around his head and shoulders. When he saw the barge through the obscuring sleet, though, he slid to a halt on the icy path. No vessels were expected up the Forth until full spring, and the first month of it was only dawning now. It was too early in the season to be... chancing the seas, surely! Only a madman would do so … or one with urgent news. Agricola’s pulse, heavy and slow from the heat of the bath-house, suddenly pounded harder in his neck.Samana, her head down as she sought refuge in her own fur wrap, ran right into his back, her feet slipping on the frosted stones. ‘Why do you halt?’ she cried, shuddering with cold. ‘Come, before we are frozen through!’Her imperious tone slid from Agricola like the drops of melting sleet, for he was too absorbed in the sight of that barge approaching the plank pier on the shingle bank below.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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