Gisborne: Book of Pawns Read Online Free PDF Page B

vomit until my sides ached and I had nothing left.
    ‘Deep breaths, Ysabel. Take deep breaths. Go to the copse and stay with your b ack turned until I find them.’ G is borne’s fingers closed on my arm and he pulled me away.
    I was disgusted with my weakness and shook my head.
    ‘No. This was my idea. Besides, here is Harry.’
    He lay in his o wn blood. He had been stripped to his braies and everything he owned had been pulled from him.  He had always worn a leather thong around his neck about which he twisted the golden hair of his wife and the white-blon de hair of his daughters in a glorious loveknot. It was an exceptional keepsake and I would have lov ed to return it to his family. Instead I reache d for his hair which lay tangled in the grass, his basinet stolen, and using the sharp edge of the arrow, cut three locks for his family and placed them in the t iny leather purse at my waist. His eyes were wide but it was far too late to close them and I knew I would ever see that look of sadness.
    ‘Here’s Wilf,’ Guy bent down and rolle d the near naked soldier over.
    Thanks be to God his eyes were closed and it was obvious he had died i nstantly from a pierced heart. I cut his hair as well, because they had taken the iron wristlet he wore wit h his family’s names engraved. I remember he had taken that wristlet to the priest at Moncrieff, Brother John, a man of letters, and asked him to scratch the names of his family on it. The priest, only used to a goosequill, had done a remarkabl e job with the tip of a dagger and Wilf had been so proud, showing it often to any who would look.
    ‘Who has taken everything?’ I looked around, my eyes focus ing on nothing but leaf and tree , as if that would sustain me.
    ‘The cut- throat ban d to whom these others belong. They have taken our baggage horse as well, and the men’s rounceys and weapons. If we are lucky they will be long gone to whatever he ll-hole they call home.’ Guy placed his hands under Wilf’s armpits and lifted him across his shoulder, laying him over the saddle of his own rouncey .
    He tied him on and I could only watch.
    ‘We s hall bury them away from here. We passed a stream on the way back and its sides were sandy and we can dig graves more easily. Besides, I think if we are to do this, it is best away from their murderers.’
    He was right and I should have thought of it but my mind was sluggish and all I could do onc e Harry had been tied on board was take the reins of Khazia and lead her
    It took us till dusk to bury them, cover ing them with dirt and stones. We left the graves unmarked for fear they would be opened by greedy passers-by and I was pleased that Guy had settled on a spot below the roots of birches that stood skirted by ferns. The burials barely showed and we were silent as we looked one last time be fore heading into the gloaming.
    ‘Guy?’ I could barely see him as we rode, but he answered.
    ‘Yes ?’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘I owe you a debt,’ he replied.
    ‘Yo u owe me nothing of any sort.’ I sen sed him slipping away from me.
    Don’t go .
    ‘A life debt is just that, and can only be paid up when I h ave saved your life in return. Until then I am most completely at your service.’
    He invited no argument and yet I would not be dissuaded .
    ‘I wish you would forget it, ’ I argued, but he moved the conversation to other things.
    ‘You shoot as well as any o f the men. Where did you learn?’
    ‘I hunted at Cazenay. It was the only way one could have a littl e excitement in a mundane lady ’ s life and I became rather good at it. ’ A brief image of my disgruntled suitors danced through the macabre events of the day.
    ‘And the Saracen bow?’
    ‘Like the tongue, learned when the Saracen travellers were at Cazenay. I like the bow. It’s small and light, b et ter for someone short like me. The long bow i s too unwieldy, the crossbow too heavy. Sadly the little bow has a shorter lifespan in our damp climates