Behold a Pale Horse Read Online Free PDF

Ado rode on the interior side of the path.
    Ahead of them, Fidelma had noticed a bird with pointed wings and long tail rising abruptly from where it had been standing by the edge of the river which ran to their left. The bird rose with its strange chirping cry and Fidelma recognised a kestrel. A moment later from the woods came piercing cries and two large, dark birds with broad rounded wings and short necks suddenly soared from the treetops. Buzzards. There came a cacophony of bird noise, causing her to glance at the dark woodlands. She saw a shadow by a tree and turned back with a cry of warning.
    Magister Ado had apparently already seen the shadow, for he leaned sharply across his horse’s neck. There was a whistling sound and Brother Faro gave a cry of pain and fell from his horse, sprawling on his back on the track. Fidelma had only time to realise that the haft of an arrow was protruding from his shoulder and there was blood spurting from the wound. When she glanced back, Magister Ado had straightened up. It seemed that he had seen the archer loosening his bow and ducked. The arrow had passed over him and hit Brother Faro instead. Sister Gisa was screaming.
    Fidelma turned back to the trees. Two men, bows ready, had emerged from cover and were moving deliberately towards them. She was undecided for a moment. If they fled, they would have to leave Brother Faro, wounded as he was, to the mercy of the attackers, for there was no time to dismount and put his unconscious body on horseback again. But if they stayed it would surely mean their own death.
    It seemed, however, that Magister Ado had decided upon his own salvation and was urging his horse forward, passing her. He had gone but a short distance when another sound ahead of them caused him to halt. It was a blast on a hunter’s horn, followed by a series of short warning blasts. It was all happening so fast that Fidelma could not keep up with events and sat undecided on her horse. Along the valley track around a bend ahead of them, emerged half a dozen mounted and armed men at the gallop. She now saw the two archers turning and heading rapidly into the cover of the trees.
    The leader of the newcomers shouted orders and three of the riders detached themselves, dismounted and were scrambling up into the dense forests after the fleeing attackers.
    Sister Gisa had swung down from the mule and was kneeling by the prone form of Brother Faro. Fidelma dismounted and went to help her. Brother Faro’s eyes were opening and he groaned a little. She saw that the arrow had stuck into fatty tissue and missed the important muscles. Nevertheless, she knew that it had to be extracted immediately and the wound treated. It could still cause poisoning, and he could die of the result.
    ‘Hold him,’ she instructed Sister Gisa, then turning to Brother Faro added: ‘I am afraid this will hurt a little.’
    He nodded that he understood. She peered closely at the arrow which, without bone or muscle to block it, had penetrated the flesh so that the point stuck out the other side. The arrowhead itself was thankfully smooth and not barbed. She reached forward and snapped off the feathered end as close to the wound as possible. Then, taking hold of the head, she pulled the shaft rapidly through the flesh. Brother Faro gave a sharp cry and fainted.
    ‘Quickly, Sister, some water to wash the wound,’ Fidelma ordered.
    Sister Gisa brought the water from the river and something from her saddlebag. As Fidelma washed the young man’s wound, Sister Gisa said: ‘This is a paste of crushed garlic. I have often seen my father use it. In these parts it is spread on wounds and has healing qualities and will prevent infections.’
    Fidelma nodded silently and allowed the girl to apply the paste before she bound the wound tightly with strips of linen. By the time she had finished, Brother Faro had recovered consciousness again. They sat him up, back against a tree trunk, and he took a little wine which