Read Online Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls by Chris Ward - Free Book Online Page A

was perplexed, never in all her life had Pierman’s Store been shut whilst the sun was up. She looked around and realised that this was not the only shop to be closed. The main street of Wildwood was quiet at a time when it was usually crowded. People were about, but they hurried quickly, heads down avoiding eye contact. She could see several closed doors and attached to each was a notice. Sylvion knocked on the door of Pierman’s Store and waited but there was no answer. She began to feel anxious, her town was in trouble, and in living memory it always been a happy bustling place full of laughter and children, stray dogs and livestock. Today in the bright sunlight it was a mere shadow of what it should be.
    Suddenly she caught sight of someone she knew.
    ‘Ma Gingham,’ she called and waved. Ma Gingham stopped dead, as though by command and then, seeing who had hailed her, relaxed, and smiled weakly, with one hand on her heaving bosom.
    ‘Oh Sylvion, welcome home dear, give my love to your kindma, got to go,’ and she was gone, leaving Sylvion standing stunned.
    What is going on she thought, this is not the Wildwood I know.
     
    She remounted Lightfoot, and walked her slowly up the main street. A few people smiled and waved at her, but no one wanted to stop and talk. It was not a long street; Wildwood was not a large town, but in the past it would take her an hour to make the short way from one end to the other. There were always old friends to greet, and many things to discuss since her last visit. She swiveled in her saddle and looked back. The street was almost empty; there was a feeling of sadness and fear which lingered and Sylvion felt her heart almost break. She had come home but it felt like somewhere else.
    She dug her heels into Lightfoot’s girth very gently, and with a soft ‘Git-on,’ they walked sadly on.
    At the very top of the street, just before she would usually turn off right and find her way through the rather disorganized collection of dwellings along the north track which led out to Wildwood forest and her family home, Sylvion realised that a new building had been constructed, right on the junction of Main street and Wildwood track. Old Jeem’s salt store had been demolished and in its place was a freshly whitewashed guard station with a smart verandah out front, and a timber shingle roof with stables behind. Five beautiful black geldings were tethered ready-saddled to a rail, and as she drew level, the conversation of their riders became clearer as they sat on the verandah talking loudly in the soft afternoon sun.
     
    ‘Well lookee here,’ said one, noticing Sylvion approach, ‘Now there’s a fine sight lads, don’t think we’ve seen this beauty before.’
    ‘Ride’s like a man,’ said another, ‘perhaps she wants to be a soldier; hey lass come on over we’ll teach you all you need to know!’
    They all laughed and clapped each other on the back. Sylvion had a bad feeling about what might happen next, but she was not scared, her steed was the equal of any in the north and she was mounted and they looked like they would take some time to get organised. She stopped Lightfoot in the middle of the road and looked over at the untidy bunch.
    Not the elite of the king’s guard that’s for sure, she thought. 
     
    ‘Looks promising men,’ said the largest of the squad, a solid man with a heavy face and eyes which spoke of a slow mind. ‘Don’t be scared miss, we don’t bite.’ He chuckled at his wit.
    Sylvion turned Lightfoot towards them and moved several paces in their direction, then halted. She was facing them now and knew that they could see her well. She was not falsely modest. She knew that at twenty years of age her body was firm and shapely, the soft leather riding breeches she had fashioned herself followed her figure and her hair was long and free. Without any overt display Sylvion knew that the soldiers, so far from home would take a good look at her.
    Well let them,