Read Online By Sylvian Hamilton by Max Gilbert - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Max Gilbert
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girls in a garden need warders?' 'That is
generous,' the prioress said. She too was shaking, partly from
weariness after the long fast ride and partly with relief, because he
had, in the instant of knowledge, looked as if he might kill her.
'Why
Gilla?' he asked, as if to himself. 'Why was there a man on the wall?
To steal fruit? But took a child instead, the nearest within hand's
reach? There are children everywhere, far easier to steal than from
behind a monastery wall. I'll ride to Holystone with you. I want to
see for myself just where it happened, and how. Bane! Bane!'
When
Bane did not come, Straccan flung back the door and went to find him.
'In the yard, Master,' said Cammo. And there, in the yard, was a
stranger, his string of laden dejected ponies straggling in through
the gate and around the inner courtyard. A pack-driver, talking to
Bane; Bane turning to Straccan, holding out a roll of parchment.
Straccan
unrolled it. A few lines of writing and a soft curl of hair, so fine
it fluffed up instantly and the wind took it, scattering bright hairs
in the mud.
She
is unhurt. You will find Saint Thomas his finger. Send it to the Jew
Eleazar, at Nottingham. When I know he has it, she will be returned
to you.
He
seized the pack-man's baggy jerkin and heaved him forward. 'Who gave
you this?'
'A
m-m-man at LL-Lincoln.'
'What
manner of man?'
'Oh,
a f-f-fine lor-lor-lord, on a f-fine b-b-black ha-ha-horse.'
Outside
the convent wall where the great old apple tree overhung the road,
Straccan searched the ground not knowing what he hoped to find. It
had rained since Gilla's abduction, but he found hoof marks in the
soft earth beside the road. Someone had dismounted, tied the horse to
a bush and waited. The marks of a man's feet were plain enough
beneath the wall. There he had stepped back to catch the child, and
there the footprints were deep, deep with the added weight as he
caught her.
A
clump of ancient holly grew about fifty yards along the road. Behind
that he found the hoof marks of two more horses, the dung of one and
something strange. A small circle of fieldstones had been made on the
ground; in it were some wet feathers, palely stained with rain-washed
blood, the blackened and half-burned skull of a bird and the remains
of charred twigs and leaves. He crumbled one of the leaves –some
herb, by its smell--valerian maybe, he thought. It seemed too much
of a coincidence to think that the stone ring was not associated with
Cilia's abductors. But what was it? They hadn't just been cooking a
meal there. Poking about in the holly, he came upon some rat-gnawed
remains which seemed to be the headless body of a small white hen. He
had no idea what to make of it.
They'd
been seen at Salterhill, ten miles from Holystone. A very beautiful
young man, said the giggling girl who remembered him vividly. 'Fair
as a prince in hauberk and leather bonnet.'
While
she eyed the questioners hopefully, her young brother butted in. 'He
had a helmet laced to his saddle bow and a little girl asleep in his
arms. There was an older man, wrapped in his cloak and two black men
with him, archers-- Ow!' Earning a cuff from his sister and a silver
penny from Straccan.
After
that they could find no trace.
'I'll
waste no more time like this,' said Straccan. 'Fair man or none, this
is to do with that Pluvis and his master, Gregory. Gregory sent word
that he'd not got his relic. I sent back that his man had paid for
it, taken it and gone, and it was no more business of mine. Now my
Gilla is stolen away and there's that message to find the relic and
send it to Nottingham. But we know that Pluvis is dead, at this place
called –what is it? Shawl. He was there, and the relic was with
him. We'll go there!'
Chapter
11
The
crossroads at the forest's edge near Shawl was a peaceful spot, birds
singing in the trees, bees droning in the clover, the view into the
gentle valley below bright and fair. In the centre of the crossroads
was an
generous,' the prioress said. She too was shaking, partly from
weariness after the long fast ride and partly with relief, because he
had, in the instant of knowledge, looked as if he might kill her.
'Why
Gilla?' he asked, as if to himself. 'Why was there a man on the wall?
To steal fruit? But took a child instead, the nearest within hand's
reach? There are children everywhere, far easier to steal than from
behind a monastery wall. I'll ride to Holystone with you. I want to
see for myself just where it happened, and how. Bane! Bane!'
When
Bane did not come, Straccan flung back the door and went to find him.
'In the yard, Master,' said Cammo. And there, in the yard, was a
stranger, his string of laden dejected ponies straggling in through
the gate and around the inner courtyard. A pack-driver, talking to
Bane; Bane turning to Straccan, holding out a roll of parchment.
Straccan
unrolled it. A few lines of writing and a soft curl of hair, so fine
it fluffed up instantly and the wind took it, scattering bright hairs
in the mud.
She
is unhurt. You will find Saint Thomas his finger. Send it to the Jew
Eleazar, at Nottingham. When I know he has it, she will be returned
to you.
He
seized the pack-man's baggy jerkin and heaved him forward. 'Who gave
you this?'
'A
m-m-man at LL-Lincoln.'
'What
manner of man?'
'Oh,
a f-f-fine lor-lor-lord, on a f-fine b-b-black ha-ha-horse.'
Outside
the convent wall where the great old apple tree overhung the road,
Straccan searched the ground not knowing what he hoped to find. It
had rained since Gilla's abduction, but he found hoof marks in the
soft earth beside the road. Someone had dismounted, tied the horse to
a bush and waited. The marks of a man's feet were plain enough
beneath the wall. There he had stepped back to catch the child, and
there the footprints were deep, deep with the added weight as he
caught her.
A
clump of ancient holly grew about fifty yards along the road. Behind
that he found the hoof marks of two more horses, the dung of one and
something strange. A small circle of fieldstones had been made on the
ground; in it were some wet feathers, palely stained with rain-washed
blood, the blackened and half-burned skull of a bird and the remains
of charred twigs and leaves. He crumbled one of the leaves –some
herb, by its smell--valerian maybe, he thought. It seemed too much
of a coincidence to think that the stone ring was not associated with
Cilia's abductors. But what was it? They hadn't just been cooking a
meal there. Poking about in the holly, he came upon some rat-gnawed
remains which seemed to be the headless body of a small white hen. He
had no idea what to make of it.
They'd
been seen at Salterhill, ten miles from Holystone. A very beautiful
young man, said the giggling girl who remembered him vividly. 'Fair
as a prince in hauberk and leather bonnet.'
While
she eyed the questioners hopefully, her young brother butted in. 'He
had a helmet laced to his saddle bow and a little girl asleep in his
arms. There was an older man, wrapped in his cloak and two black men
with him, archers-- Ow!' Earning a cuff from his sister and a silver
penny from Straccan.
After
that they could find no trace.
'I'll
waste no more time like this,' said Straccan. 'Fair man or none, this
is to do with that Pluvis and his master, Gregory. Gregory sent word
that he'd not got his relic. I sent back that his man had paid for
it, taken it and gone, and it was no more business of mine. Now my
Gilla is stolen away and there's that message to find the relic and
send it to Nottingham. But we know that Pluvis is dead, at this place
called –what is it? Shawl. He was there, and the relic was with
him. We'll go there!'
Chapter
11
The
crossroads at the forest's edge near Shawl was a peaceful spot, birds
singing in the trees, bees droning in the clover, the view into the
gentle valley below bright and fair. In the centre of the crossroads
was an
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