Read Online The Golden Braid by Melanie Dickerson - Free Book Online Page B

Eight
    Rapunzel stared at him, her mouth open. She had expected to see an older monk, or perhaps a bedridden invalid, but to find Sir Gerek here . . . “Brother Andrew is forcing you to teach me, isn’t he?”
    He looked up at her through his eyelashes as he lay on the low bed. “I don’t mind telling you . . . yes, he is forcing me to teach you.”
    Rapunzel crossed her arms. She wanted to tell him she’d rather not learn to read than to be taught by someone who did not wish to teach her. She imagined herself leaving the room and slamming the door. But if she did that, she might be giving up her one chance to learn to read.
    Closing her eyes, she reminded herself that Mother would only be gone a few hours and Rapunzel had already spent at least two hours cleaning the monastery rooms.
    â€œI can only stay an hour, so let us get this lesson started.”
    â€œWhy can you only stay an hour?” he asked. “Is it because your mother doesn’t know you’re here?” He raised his brows at her.
    Was he trying to make her feel bad? To make her go back home?
    â€œYes, if you must know, but I am not leaving. I will stay right here for an hour.”
    He made a grunting sound, then turned, leaning over the side of the narrow cot, and picked up a large book.
    Rapunzel was breathing hard. She focused on his splinted leg, which was stretched out on the low bed, and his splinted arm, bent at the elbow and lying across his stomach. Looking at them helped her feel a bit of pity for him, and her breathing gradually returned to normal.
    â€œSince I saved your life from that brigand who was about to slit your throat”—she lifted her head an inch or two higher—“I would think you would want to teach me, to repay me.”
    When she deigned to glance down at him, he was glaring up at her from half-closed eyes.
    â€œIf I had not first saved you from said brigand, you would not have needed to save me from him.”
    She put her hands on her hips. “Why can’t you just be grateful and stop being arrogant?”
    â€œI am a knight in Duke Wilhelm’s service. I am not accustomed to being bullied by a novice monk and a peasant girl.”
    â€œYou are insufferable!”
    â€œWhy can’t you just be grateful,” he shot back, “and . . . be quiet.”
    â€œBe quiet? Oh, yes, I’m sure that’s what you think all women should do. You probably think a clout or two to the head once or thrice a day would do them good too.” She tried to calm down, to take slower breaths. Did she sound like an imbecile, arguing with a knight over who should be the most grateful? But when she looked back down at him, he had turned a shade paler.
    â€œNo.” The arrogant look was completely gone from his face. He stared down at the book in his lap, away from her, and spoke softly. “That is not what I think. I do not think women should be struck. Ever.”
    Why had her words created such a reaction? She waited to see what he would say next, to give a clue as to why his demeanor had changed so.
    â€œWon’t you bring that stool over here so we can begin?”
    Rapunzel stared. He looked earnest, actually meek, so she complied.
    Sir Gerek stared down at the book and frowned. “Do you know how to read any words at all?”
    â€œNo,” she admitted. “I don’t know any words.”
    â€œThis is a copy of the Holy Writ that I commissioned—”
    â€œWhat? You have a copy of the Holy Writ? How did you get it? I’ve never seen one before.”
    Now that she was sitting and they were at the same level, he stared into her eyes.
    â€œAs I was saying,” his voice was quiet, and he spoke slowly, “it is a copy of the Holy Writ that I commissioned from the monks at this same monastery.” He opened the book.
    â€œYou are not going to teach me to read using the Bible, are you?” Rapunzel leaned away from the