Read Online Awakening by William Horwood - Free Book Online Page B

the door in the face of protest.
    But after a week, when Stort was beginning to recover his old spirits and wished to see his friends, she relented a little.
    ‘I have sent notice to Mister Barklice that he may attend you for tea today, sir,’ she announced over breakfast.
    It was a wise choice and a happy visit.
    Barklice’s friendship with Stort, built up over the years of their travels together, was of a gentler tenor than that which he enjoyed with Brief and Pike. The two had often talked late into the night by the campfire, usually of their deepest yearnings and most intimate desires. The mystery of love was their theme, along with the seeming impossibility of wanderers of the pilgrim road and independent spirits such as themselves ever finding an understanding mate.
    Barklice was middle-aged and wiry. He was worn with the travel his job as a verderer, sorting out legal problems of land and property, made necessary. He was gentle by nature and liked harmony, perhaps one reason he had never been spoused.
    ‘Mister Pike has a good marriage, of course, and Master Brief has no need of one since books are his bride,’ he observed, their conversation turning to the old subject the moment Cluckett had brought them tea and left them.
    ‘Indeed that is so,’ said Stort, who was wrapped up in a fluffy dressing gown, with pink, quilted slippers on his feet and a tasselled hat upon his head, ‘and I suppose the wonders of the Universe should be bride enough for me. But you know, Barklice, there are times when I wish to share those wonders with the beloved I seek but know I can never find, and there are times too . . .’
    He fell into a ruminative silence.
    ‘Times too . . . ?’ prompted Barklice.
    ‘When I have worries I would wish to share, doubts that rack me and burdens I . . . burdens that . . .’
    ‘My dear fellow!’ cried Barklice, seeing that Stort was becoming upset, ‘is there something that burdens you now?’
    It was clear he had something on his mind – perhaps that same thing that had troubled him so much when he had been found outside the city on May Day.
    ‘No . . . no . . . I am happy and comfortable.’
    He smiled wanly – and unconvincingly. The truth was that the gem of Spring, of which he had so far told no one and which he had successfully hidden in the very parlour where they sat, bore down upon him. With it went that concern and worry for the Shield Maiden who, he was quite sure from all the signs of Earth and stars, violent and otherwise, had most certainly been born the same night – perhaps at the same moment – he had found the gem.
    ‘I am really very happy, Barklice . . . um . . . yes . . . really I am.’
    ‘Well, if there’s something . . . ?’
    ‘There’s nothing,’ said Stort, ‘so please have another cup of tea and a piece of this delicious cake.’
    Though he could see Stort’s continuing worry and unhappiness, Barklice did not press the matter.
    ‘I must say that Goodwife Cluckett is looking after you very well. Your home is as clean and tidy as I have ever seen it . . . and you look . . . I mean you . . .’
    Barklice eyed the fluffy dressing gown, slippers and nightcap.
    ‘You look very ah . . . well . . .’
    Stort looked mournful.
    ‘I know what you are thinking and you are right. This garb she has dressed me in looks ridiculous. But if I removed it my life would be made miserable. To be happy when she is in my home I must be obedient.’
    ‘But Stort, that is against everything your free and independent spirit stands for. Can you not defy her in such matters while accepting the good things she does for you?’
    As often before, his friend had shown the way to go.
    ‘You are right,’ he cried impulsively, ‘I will try to find a way!’
    ‘When?’ asked Barklice.
    ‘Now!’ replied Stort.
    He stood up, kicked off his slippers, removed his hat and was in the act of taking off his dressing gown when the heavy tread of the goodwife was heard approaching down