Insurrection Read Online Free PDF Page B

the wet grass that sprouted from the path. When he was done, he lifted his short hose and pushed the blade inside the leather sheath strapped around his calf. Moving cautiously to the cliff edge, he waited, sniffing rainwater from the end of his nose. After several minutes lightning struck again. Adam’s sharp eyes picked out a large, grey shape on the shore below. He waited. There was supposed to have been a moon tonight, but the storm had obscured it. Still, the wind and rain would have masked the king’s scream from Brice’s ears, although the fool should have been far enough ahead not to have heard it. The lightning came again in three flashes. The horse remained where it had fallen and this time Adam caught sight of a smaller shape lying close by. The king’s scarlet robe was as bright as a flag. Satisfied, the squire dug his foot into his stirrup and swung into the saddle. Even if the king had survived the fall, he would die from the cold before anyone found him, for Adam would make sure to send the search party in the wrong direction. Digging in his spurs, he continued up the cliff path towards Kinghorn, rehearsing the lies he planned to tell the young queen.
     
    Down on the shore, the dying horse turned its head. Blood pumped from the deep cut in its foreleg, which had severed the tendons and taken its balance, indistinguishable now from the injuries caused by the fall. A few feet away lay its royal charge, arms splayed, neck twisted at an impossible angle. The ragged wind coming off the Forth lifted a corner of the king’s cloak, making it flap against the sand, but other than that there was no movement.
    The dead would not be rising today.

2
    The boy’s breaths came hard and fast as the beast thundered across the beach, kicking up sand in wet clods and taking him further from the shouts that echoed behind him. One hand gripping the reins, the boy leaned far back in the saddle, almost standing in the stirrups, striving to bring the horse to a stop, until his muscles were throbbing with the effort. The raw wind whipped his hair into his eyes, blinding him, and the lance, couched in his right hand, bounced wildly. Without warning, the horse jerked forward, pulling the reins painfully fast through the boy’s clenched fist. As the animal veered towards the crashing surf in a furious gallop, the boy lost his hold on the lance, which thumped to the sand to be splintered beneath one of the beast’s hooves. Faint in the distance, he heard his name being yelled.
    ‘ Robert! ’
    Snatching up the reins with both hands now, the boy fought against the animal, shouting in frustration and fear as it continued its crazed path towards the seething water. The sea, dazzling white in the sunlight, was coming up fast, filling his world with its rush and tumble. The roar of it was in his ears. All at once, he felt a violent jolt beneath him. The sky rolled over in his vision and, for a second, he saw clouds and a gull wheeling. Then he was hurtling headlong into the waves.
    The cold slammed him, making him gulp a lungful of salt water as he disappeared beneath the churning surf. He was tossed over, then sucked under, any sense of up or down driven from him by the icy shock and his rising panic. His chest was constricting, closing in on itself. He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, his foot struck the bottom. He pushed himself up, breaking the surface with a shuddering gasp. The next wave struck him in the back, but although he was brought to his knees and propelled along by it, he managed to keep his head above the water. Eyes fixed on the shore, he struggled out of the breakers, his tunic clinging to him. As he waded on to the sand, coughing up seawater, he realised his shoes had been torn off by the force of the waves. The grit of broken shells on the shoreline stung his bare feet as he bent over, letting water trickle from his nose and ears.
    ‘Robert!’
    The boy straightened at the shout to see a figure striding down the beach