Read Online The Blood List by Sarah Naughton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sarah Naughton
Tags: General, Juvenile Fiction
Ads: Link
shelf beside the crucifix, no plays, no poetry. Even the Bible was a plain, brown thing without
illuminations. Barnaby and Griff had spent a very educational afternoon poring over Father Nicholas’s copy of Ovid’s
Metamorphoses
that featured a graphic illustration of Leda
being ravaged by the swan. Abel had to make do with the frontispiece of his Bible, which showed a dour King James in a feathered hat.
And then he realised. If Abel did possess such a thing, he wouldn’t keep it on show for Juliet to stumble upon. After Griff had smuggled the priest’s book out of the church library
he had concealed it beneath his mattress. Barnaby leaned over and slid his hand under Abel’s.
At first he felt nothing. Just the strings of the bed and a few loose strands of hay. He pushed his hand deeper and this time his fingers came into contact with some papers.
He smiled.
Crouching down beside the bed, he carefully drew them out.
They were dog-eared from use, some were torn, others water-damaged. At first he thought they might be erotic etchings done by some clumsy local artist – the first featured a gang of
half-naked cavorting women – but then he read the title.
The Kingdom of Darknes
He looked more closely. Now he could make out the figure at the centre of the dancing women. Apart from the crescents of its slitted eyes it was entirely black; its bat-like
wings raised above its head, claws spreading from the bony wing tips.
A line of text beneath read:
Exodus 22.18. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.
He tossed it onto the table. The next pamphlet was entitled
Signs and Wonders from Heaven
, and the image beneath made him snigger. It was an etching of a human being
with the physical attributes of both a woman and a man, but with no arms or legs. A beatific smile lit its face. A chunk of text beneath read:
WITH A TRUE RELATION of a Monster borne in Ratliffe Highway, at the sign of the three Arrows, Mistress Bullock the Midwife
delivering thereof. Also shewing how a Cat kitned a Monster in Lombard Street in London. Also how the Divell came to Soffam to a Farmers house in the habit of a Gentle-woman. With divers other
strange remarkable passages.
He didn’t bother to open the pamphlet to discover these remarkable passages. Surely Abel didn’t believe this horse shit.
The next did not have an amusing illustration, only a pompous title in an almost unreadably elaborate font:
Barnaby tossed it with the others.
The one beneath was particularly comical. In the centre was a grinning devil, surrounded by women who were kissing various parts of his hairy anatomy, while a ferret and a toad mated nearby and
another woman suckled a fox. This apparently represented:
A TRUE RELATION of the Confessions of eighteene Witches, who by confederacy with the Devill did not only cast away their soules
and bodies, but made spoyle and havock of their neighbours goods and so were executed the 17 day of August 1644.
The list of names beneath seemed very long. He was surprised to see a vicar heading the first column: A ‘Mr Lewes, parson of Branson’. He looked for him in the
picture and finally saw him, his black cassock pulled up to his waist while devils poked his backside with pitchforks.
An amusing idea came into Barnaby’s mind and he searched Abel’s drawers until he found a scrap of writing lead wrapped in string. Beside the grinning devil surrounded by women he
wrote:
Barnaby.
He gave the tortured priest buck teeth and a cloud of fart puffing out from his naked backside. Beside this figure he wrote:
Abel.
After chuckling to himself for a few minutes he tucked the papers back under the mattress and let himself out of the room, feeling slightly giddy.
When Abel came down for dinner that evening his expression was thunderous.
The wine was poured. Henry threw back two glasses in quick succession then began talking to Frances about the latest shipment of textiles from Arabia. Soon there was an animated
illuminations. Barnaby and Griff had spent a very educational afternoon poring over Father Nicholas’s copy of Ovid’s
Metamorphoses
that featured a graphic illustration of Leda
being ravaged by the swan. Abel had to make do with the frontispiece of his Bible, which showed a dour King James in a feathered hat.
And then he realised. If Abel did possess such a thing, he wouldn’t keep it on show for Juliet to stumble upon. After Griff had smuggled the priest’s book out of the church library
he had concealed it beneath his mattress. Barnaby leaned over and slid his hand under Abel’s.
At first he felt nothing. Just the strings of the bed and a few loose strands of hay. He pushed his hand deeper and this time his fingers came into contact with some papers.
He smiled.
Crouching down beside the bed, he carefully drew them out.
They were dog-eared from use, some were torn, others water-damaged. At first he thought they might be erotic etchings done by some clumsy local artist – the first featured a gang of
half-naked cavorting women – but then he read the title.
The Kingdom of Darknes
He looked more closely. Now he could make out the figure at the centre of the dancing women. Apart from the crescents of its slitted eyes it was entirely black; its bat-like
wings raised above its head, claws spreading from the bony wing tips.
A line of text beneath read:
Exodus 22.18. Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.
He tossed it onto the table. The next pamphlet was entitled
Signs and Wonders from Heaven
, and the image beneath made him snigger. It was an etching of a human being
with the physical attributes of both a woman and a man, but with no arms or legs. A beatific smile lit its face. A chunk of text beneath read:
WITH A TRUE RELATION of a Monster borne in Ratliffe Highway, at the sign of the three Arrows, Mistress Bullock the Midwife
delivering thereof. Also shewing how a Cat kitned a Monster in Lombard Street in London. Also how the Divell came to Soffam to a Farmers house in the habit of a Gentle-woman. With divers other
strange remarkable passages.
He didn’t bother to open the pamphlet to discover these remarkable passages. Surely Abel didn’t believe this horse shit.
The next did not have an amusing illustration, only a pompous title in an almost unreadably elaborate font:
Barnaby tossed it with the others.
The one beneath was particularly comical. In the centre was a grinning devil, surrounded by women who were kissing various parts of his hairy anatomy, while a ferret and a toad mated nearby and
another woman suckled a fox. This apparently represented:
A TRUE RELATION of the Confessions of eighteene Witches, who by confederacy with the Devill did not only cast away their soules
and bodies, but made spoyle and havock of their neighbours goods and so were executed the 17 day of August 1644.
The list of names beneath seemed very long. He was surprised to see a vicar heading the first column: A ‘Mr Lewes, parson of Branson’. He looked for him in the
picture and finally saw him, his black cassock pulled up to his waist while devils poked his backside with pitchforks.
An amusing idea came into Barnaby’s mind and he searched Abel’s drawers until he found a scrap of writing lead wrapped in string. Beside the grinning devil surrounded by women he
wrote:
Barnaby.
He gave the tortured priest buck teeth and a cloud of fart puffing out from his naked backside. Beside this figure he wrote:
Abel.
After chuckling to himself for a few minutes he tucked the papers back under the mattress and let himself out of the room, feeling slightly giddy.
When Abel came down for dinner that evening his expression was thunderous.
The wine was poured. Henry threw back two glasses in quick succession then began talking to Frances about the latest shipment of textiles from Arabia. Soon there was an animated
Similar Books
