Read Online The Witch from the Sea by Philippa Carr - Free Book Online
Authors: Philippa Carr
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the chance to save you from villains, of whose intentions I have no doubt, and in such cases they can end in murder. There are robber barons abroad, who take unprotected women—men too—to their strongholds and often make sport with them. It was a recognized custom in early times and such customs live on. Here I offer you hospitality. You will be safe here. My servants will care for you. And I promise you that I shall without delay send a number of them off in different directions. I doubt not in a short time they will bring news of your mother. They can escort her here to Paling. That will set her mind at rest and yours. And as soon as it is light you can start for home.”
Still I hesitated. I looked at that grim, grey fortress. I could hear the faint murmur of the sea. What could I do? It seemed I had no choice. I saw a light moving across what must have been a courtyard. Then I saw another in a window. There were people there. I must go with him. It was the only way. I could not roam, as he said, aimlessly through the night, searching for my mother.
He saw that I was relenting. “All will be well,” he said gently.
We climbed the incline to the castle.
“I would welcome the pleasure of showing you my home in happier circumstances,” he said.
I tried to draw my mind from thoughts of my mother.
“You are kind,” I answered perfunctorily.
“I am glad to be of service. Come, stop fretting. This night will soon be over and by daylight everything will seem different. Paling has long withstood the force of the elements. It is as strong as it was when the first stone was laid. It needed to be. It had to hold off intruders, and fight the weather. It is of Cornish stone—hard and strong, and has provided a home for my ancestors for generations. The foundations were laid years ago during the reign of the Conqueror but later on castles had to be made habitable, something more than just walls in which to protect oneself and one’s family. But you are not interested in architecture. You think only of how we shall find your mother. I understand. I talk but to ease you, if that be possible.”
We were approaching the portcullis. The cool wind fanned my cheeks and I could smell the fresh clean smell of sea air. I was aware again of that sense of being warned. It was as strong now as it had been at the burned-out inn. What was I doing, trusting this man who had behaved so badly at The Traveller’s Rest? Oh, when would this nightmare end!
Once more an impulse came to me to turn my horse and gallop away, and I restrained it. What could I do? I had told him that I had wished to go to the inn and he had brought me here. He was a man who would do what he wished. I knew that. He alarmed me, yet excited me in a strange way. I was not sure of my feelings for him. He gave out an aura of immense power, which at this time I needed. I could not help feeling that if he were sincere in his desire to help me in this frightening predicament, he could do it.
I went forward simply because I did not know what could happen to me if I went back.
We had passed under the portcullis.
“Quite a climb,” he said. “But you see how strong we are. A look-out on the tower could see people approaching for miles. No one can come near from the other side … except by boat of course, and that would not be easy.”
Colum Casvellyn started to shout and there was an immediate response. Several men came running.
He leaped from his horse and one of them took it. He turned to me then and helped me out of the saddle.
He took my arm and led me across the courtyard.
A door opened. A woman appeared with a lantern. She bobbed a curtsy and he said: “Gemma, we have a visitor. Let a room be prepared for her and some hot food be brought.”
She was off and he took me through the great hall to the guard-room.
I had a sudden feeling then that he intended to make me his prisoner. On the walls were spears and halberds and at the four corners of the room
Still I hesitated. I looked at that grim, grey fortress. I could hear the faint murmur of the sea. What could I do? It seemed I had no choice. I saw a light moving across what must have been a courtyard. Then I saw another in a window. There were people there. I must go with him. It was the only way. I could not roam, as he said, aimlessly through the night, searching for my mother.
He saw that I was relenting. “All will be well,” he said gently.
We climbed the incline to the castle.
“I would welcome the pleasure of showing you my home in happier circumstances,” he said.
I tried to draw my mind from thoughts of my mother.
“You are kind,” I answered perfunctorily.
“I am glad to be of service. Come, stop fretting. This night will soon be over and by daylight everything will seem different. Paling has long withstood the force of the elements. It is as strong as it was when the first stone was laid. It needed to be. It had to hold off intruders, and fight the weather. It is of Cornish stone—hard and strong, and has provided a home for my ancestors for generations. The foundations were laid years ago during the reign of the Conqueror but later on castles had to be made habitable, something more than just walls in which to protect oneself and one’s family. But you are not interested in architecture. You think only of how we shall find your mother. I understand. I talk but to ease you, if that be possible.”
We were approaching the portcullis. The cool wind fanned my cheeks and I could smell the fresh clean smell of sea air. I was aware again of that sense of being warned. It was as strong now as it had been at the burned-out inn. What was I doing, trusting this man who had behaved so badly at The Traveller’s Rest? Oh, when would this nightmare end!
Once more an impulse came to me to turn my horse and gallop away, and I restrained it. What could I do? I had told him that I had wished to go to the inn and he had brought me here. He was a man who would do what he wished. I knew that. He alarmed me, yet excited me in a strange way. I was not sure of my feelings for him. He gave out an aura of immense power, which at this time I needed. I could not help feeling that if he were sincere in his desire to help me in this frightening predicament, he could do it.
I went forward simply because I did not know what could happen to me if I went back.
We had passed under the portcullis.
“Quite a climb,” he said. “But you see how strong we are. A look-out on the tower could see people approaching for miles. No one can come near from the other side … except by boat of course, and that would not be easy.”
Colum Casvellyn started to shout and there was an immediate response. Several men came running.
He leaped from his horse and one of them took it. He turned to me then and helped me out of the saddle.
He took my arm and led me across the courtyard.
A door opened. A woman appeared with a lantern. She bobbed a curtsy and he said: “Gemma, we have a visitor. Let a room be prepared for her and some hot food be brought.”
She was off and he took me through the great hall to the guard-room.
I had a sudden feeling then that he intended to make me his prisoner. On the walls were spears and halberds and at the four corners of the room
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