Chapter Twenty–Two
LUCAS SPRANG FROM THE lean to, mattock in hand, throwing aside the flimsy door of pine boughs and appearing in what seemed to be a cloud of smoke.
“It was not our fault,” he said. “Not our fault.”
Tamsen stepped back, raising the axe instinctively.
“Hungry, we were just hungry,” he danced about like a mad pagan. “That is all we were.”
“Lucas, get a hold of yourself.”
He dropped the mattock and wrapped both of his arms about himself in a lunatic’s embrace and laughed. “Peter got a hold, Peter’s down in the hold, holding on, oh how we held, holding him in my belly still.”
She turned and headed for the river. Fire be damned. She needed to flee, but Lucas was in front of her madly capering, herding her like a shepherd.
“Peter had hold, he held me, don’t you see,” hi
