Great Maria Read Online Free PDF Page A

out of bed and covering her nightgown with her cloak went down to the hall.
    From the window overlooking the ward she watched them flood in through the gate. The creak of leather and the clopping of the horses’ hoofs mixed with the grating voices of the men. They had brought five knights back face down across their saddles. Her skin prickled up. Something had gone wrong. She leaned out across the deep window sill. Almost below her, William was helping Roger down from his horse. The young man held himself stiffly all through his left side. He leaned on his brother to walk away.
    Maria’s father was dismounting at the door into the New Tower. On foot Richard crossed the ward to him. They spoke. Her father flung up his head, angry. Richard shouldered past him into the stairway. The door crashed against the stone wall.
    Maria slid off the window sill back into the hall. Adela with a blanket around her shoulders stood behind her.
    “Shall I go wake up Cook?”
    “Yes.” The cook would surely be awake already; it was nearly dawn. Maria went out into the stairway and ran up the steps to her room.
    Richard was already there, standing in the middle of the room pulling off his mail shirt over his head. She closed the door behind her. His sword and his helmet lay on the bed. She moved them off the clean sheet. Richard turned toward her. His helmet had left black smudges on his nose and cheekbones. His eyes glittered with bad temper.
    “What happened to Roger?” she said.
    “You stay away from Roger.” He picked up his sword and took it to hang it on the wall. “Go get me something to eat—I’m starving.”
    She went down to the hall. The tables had been pulled out into the center of the room, and the knights were crowding around them. Her father roared in their midst. The table was stacked with bread. While she stood cutting a loaf in half, Adela and a kitchen knave came in with a great bubbling pot of stew.
    The knights swarmed around it. Maria stood waiting for a chance with the ladle. Her father came up beside her. He draped his arm around her. He seemed the only man in high spirits. To someone beyond her he said, in a sleek voice, “Well, Richard’s not far-famous for courage, you know.” He hugged Maria against him. “Here, puss, give me a kiss. Go get me something to drink.”
    Maria drew away from him. He seemed pleased that Richard was upset. He wheeled toward someone else. She got hold of the ladle and piled meat on top of the bread in her hand. Her father looked around for her and called her name. She went upstairs to her room.
    Richard was sitting on a stool on the hearth. He still wore the thick quilted shirt that went under his mail. She sank down next to him and put the food on the hearth.
    “What happened?”
    Richard wheeled on her. “Your father tried to get me killed. He put me and Roger on point and ran us right into the Saracens.”
    She cried, “That’s not true—”
    “He took the high road both ways, coming and going,” he shouted in her face. “What does it look like to you?”
    “You wouldn’t dare say that to him!”
    “Do you want me to?” He pushed her hard; she caught herself on her arm. “If I go down there again now, Maria, I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him.”
    Maria put her hand to her face. She got up and went off across the room. Richard put his back to her and ate. She stood watching his back. She could not believe him; she wanted everything to be peace. She said, “I think I’m going to have a baby.”
    His head swiveled toward her. Eventually he said, “A baby. When?”
    “I’m not sure yet.” She went over to the hearth and sat down beside him, her knees drawn up to her chest. She watched his face, curious. “Would you be glad?”
    “Hunh.” He scratched in the beard stubble on his jaw. His eyes veered toward her. “Yes. I suppose so. Yes.”
    Maria laid her head down on her knees. She said a prayer in her mind that the baby was there. Richard looked away