Read Online Catherine: One Love is Enough (Catherine Series Book 1) by Juliette Benzoni - Free Book Online Page B

her. The house was suddenly full of people. The workshop was overrun by men, who rummaged in the cupboards and fought each other for possession of the valuable bowls and pitchers. Leaving the petrified Loyse flattened against a wall, Catherine rushed out into the street.
    She saw Michel struggling helplessly in the middle of a ring of howling monsters. The crowd had blocked all access to either the Legoix’s house or the bridge itself. Lights flared at all the windows, and the narrow street was bright as day. Catherine stared in horror at all those distorted faces, their mouths ugly with hate, and at the waving fists and flashing weapons, their blades glinting ominously. At the centre of all that frenzy and violence was the prisoner. His feet were chained together. He kept his head down to protect it from the cruel blows that rained down on him. Blood streamed from his torn cheek and lip. Some terrible women, brandishing spindles, were trying to put out his eyes.
    Escaping from Loyse, who was still trying to shelter her in her arms, Catherine plunged into the midst of the tumult. She ran the risk of being cut to pieces herself, but no human force could have stopped her then. She screamed, sobbed, implored and struck out with her nails and teeth, trying to carve a way through the crowd toward her friend. Something hot trickled down her cheek, followed by a sharp stab of pain. The something was blood, but she ignored it. She might have been in some sort of hell, a frail childish figure thrown to the wild beasts.
    ‘Michel,’ she cried. ‘Michel, wait! I am coming!’
    She did actually seem to be gaining ground, inch by inch.
    It was a hopeless, unequal struggle, as unequal as the struggle between the migrant bird and the encircling vultures. But somehow she kept going, miraculously sustained by courage and love. If these monsters killed Michel they would have to kill her too, and then they could both go to see Madame the Virgin and Milord Jesus together.
    Michel suddenly crumpled under the relentless battering. He staggered forward, kept upright only by an astonishingly tenacious will to survive. Then he fell on his knees, deafened and blinded by the blood streaming over his face. His whole body was one bloody wound. Catherine heard him groan, ‘God … have mercy on me!’
    A coarse insult was the only reply. He collapsed on the ground, at the limit of his endurance. The end was approaching. Catherine sensed this in the way the crowd pressed round eagerly as if to divide up the carcass. Then a voice rang out suddenly:
    ‘Make way … Make way … Here comes Caboche!’
    Catherine had covered her bleeding face with her hands so as not to see any more, but on hearing this she lifted her head. It was indeed Caboche the Skinner, ploughing his way through the crowd with his massive shoulders rather like a great ship in a stormy sea. She could see her cousin Legoix and Pierre Cauchon’s long, pale face behind him. To make room for Caboche the crowd fell back, revealing the pathetic, crumpled heap that was Michel’s body. With a sob, Catherine ran toward him through the gap in the crowd. She fell on her knees and gently lifted the blond head stained with blood. His face was unrecognisable, a bloody pulp; the nose broken, the mouth torn and one eye gouged out. He moaned feebly, already half dead.
    ‘So you found him again, eh?’ said Caboche’s voice from somewhere above her head. ‘Where was he?’
    ‘In Gaucher Legoix’s cellar. Enjoying their hospitality, it seems! We’ll burn the place down round his ears for that!’
    ‘And the bridge with it?’ Caboche cut in coldly. ‘I am the one who makes decisions round here.’
    To her amazement, Catherine felt a tremor run through the broken body she clasped so tenderly. Michel murmured painfully:
    ‘I hid myself in their house … They did not know I was there.’
    ‘That’s not true,’ Catherine cried. ‘I was the one who –’
    At that point a powerful hand was