Read Online Rise of the Wolf by Steven A McKay - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Steven A McKay
Tags: Historical fiction
Ads: Link
forward, to cuddle the girl, reassure her.
Then she stopped herself, pulled her hand back. Marjorie wanted to learn how to fight didn't she? Self-pity wasn't something that should be encouraged; it wasn't the way to engender a winning mentality in a soldier.
“Oh, poor you,” Matilda spat, glaring down at the surprised girl. “Little Marjorie, the runt of the litter, never able to eat more than a morsel of bread and half a cup of beer. Always destined to be the weakest girl in Wakefield. What a shame for you.”
Sarcasm dripped from her words and Marjorie's eyes flared, but still she didn't get back to her feet. “What would you know?” she started, but Matilda broke in, not allowing the girl to launch into a self-pitying monologue.
“What would I know? I know that you were a twin. Rebekah wasn't strong enough to survive the famine. But you were. God saw fit to spare you for some reason, and now, at the first hint of hardship you're ready to throw away your sword and just give in?” She could see that her mention of Rebekah had struck right to Marjorie's heart but before the girl could react, Matilda carried on. “You're good with the sword – you clearly have the skill for it running through your blood. Blood which you share with Robin Hood, the legendary archer and swordsman.” She held up a hand to halt any objections. “Aye, I know you haven't been blessed with his shoulder muscles or the stamina that lets him run from one village to another without stopping, but so what? Should we all just give up because we're not as strong as someone else? Get up. Now!”
Matilda held out her hand imperiously and dragged Marjorie to her feet. The girl was still angry but her dressing down had left her cowed and ashamed at her petulant behaviour.
“Look at you. In the few weeks that we've been training your posture's improved, your appetite's growing and your skill with the sword gets more impressive every day. Not so long ago you wouldn't have spotted my first blow coming – you'd have been left with rapped knuckles and an angry curse on your lips.” Matilda stepped in close and grasped her student by the shoulder. “Aye, it's harder for you because of what happened to you as an infant. But you have to face your body's limitations and either work with them or break them down.” She released the girl and stepped back, sword raised. “So, what's it to be? Are you going to pick up your weapon and continue sparring, or are you going back to the village to live the rest of your life as a whining cur?”
For a second Matilda seriously feared she'd gone too far with her verbal assault and Marjorie would feel too humiliated to do anything other than walk away. But the girl had an inner strength and Matilda smiled in satisfaction as she grasped the fallen sword and climbed back to her feet to stare into her mentor's eyes.
“You're right,” she admitted. “I can't give up now. But I'm going to make you pay for your words.”
The young girl charged forward, launching a blistering attack and Matilda genuinely had to use all her skill and speed to defend herself. It didn't last very long, as the attacker's stamina again failed her and they separated, Marjorie breathing heavily and, as before, looking frustrated by her weakness. This time, though, she didn't throw away her sword, didn't thrust out a petulant lower lip, she just stood in a defensive stance, watching her opponent circling, prepared to fend off any thrust or swipe that might come her way.
They sparred for a while longer then Marjorie held up a hand, bending over to try and catch her breath.
“Enough!” she wheezed. “I promised my ma a fish for the table. You get back to your work; I'll try and get one for you too.”
Matilda grinned, feeling like an important bridge had been crossed that day. Maybe Marjorie had the temperament to be a decent swordswoman after all.
CHAPTER SIX
“Quiet this morning,” Robin yawned, rubbing sleep from his
Then she stopped herself, pulled her hand back. Marjorie wanted to learn how to fight didn't she? Self-pity wasn't something that should be encouraged; it wasn't the way to engender a winning mentality in a soldier.
“Oh, poor you,” Matilda spat, glaring down at the surprised girl. “Little Marjorie, the runt of the litter, never able to eat more than a morsel of bread and half a cup of beer. Always destined to be the weakest girl in Wakefield. What a shame for you.”
Sarcasm dripped from her words and Marjorie's eyes flared, but still she didn't get back to her feet. “What would you know?” she started, but Matilda broke in, not allowing the girl to launch into a self-pitying monologue.
“What would I know? I know that you were a twin. Rebekah wasn't strong enough to survive the famine. But you were. God saw fit to spare you for some reason, and now, at the first hint of hardship you're ready to throw away your sword and just give in?” She could see that her mention of Rebekah had struck right to Marjorie's heart but before the girl could react, Matilda carried on. “You're good with the sword – you clearly have the skill for it running through your blood. Blood which you share with Robin Hood, the legendary archer and swordsman.” She held up a hand to halt any objections. “Aye, I know you haven't been blessed with his shoulder muscles or the stamina that lets him run from one village to another without stopping, but so what? Should we all just give up because we're not as strong as someone else? Get up. Now!”
Matilda held out her hand imperiously and dragged Marjorie to her feet. The girl was still angry but her dressing down had left her cowed and ashamed at her petulant behaviour.
“Look at you. In the few weeks that we've been training your posture's improved, your appetite's growing and your skill with the sword gets more impressive every day. Not so long ago you wouldn't have spotted my first blow coming – you'd have been left with rapped knuckles and an angry curse on your lips.” Matilda stepped in close and grasped her student by the shoulder. “Aye, it's harder for you because of what happened to you as an infant. But you have to face your body's limitations and either work with them or break them down.” She released the girl and stepped back, sword raised. “So, what's it to be? Are you going to pick up your weapon and continue sparring, or are you going back to the village to live the rest of your life as a whining cur?”
For a second Matilda seriously feared she'd gone too far with her verbal assault and Marjorie would feel too humiliated to do anything other than walk away. But the girl had an inner strength and Matilda smiled in satisfaction as she grasped the fallen sword and climbed back to her feet to stare into her mentor's eyes.
“You're right,” she admitted. “I can't give up now. But I'm going to make you pay for your words.”
The young girl charged forward, launching a blistering attack and Matilda genuinely had to use all her skill and speed to defend herself. It didn't last very long, as the attacker's stamina again failed her and they separated, Marjorie breathing heavily and, as before, looking frustrated by her weakness. This time, though, she didn't throw away her sword, didn't thrust out a petulant lower lip, she just stood in a defensive stance, watching her opponent circling, prepared to fend off any thrust or swipe that might come her way.
They sparred for a while longer then Marjorie held up a hand, bending over to try and catch her breath.
“Enough!” she wheezed. “I promised my ma a fish for the table. You get back to your work; I'll try and get one for you too.”
Matilda grinned, feeling like an important bridge had been crossed that day. Maybe Marjorie had the temperament to be a decent swordswoman after all.
CHAPTER SIX
“Quiet this morning,” Robin yawned, rubbing sleep from his
Similar Books
