Knight's Castle Read Online Free PDF Page A

he slid the last half of it, skinning one knee.
    No bones were broken, however, and he got to his feet and began the long walk across the flat greensward toward the castle. He felt rather conspicuous and a bit chilly in just his summer pajamas with the short trousers, and he felt rather small, too, as he drew near the castle's lofty walls and saw how
very
lofty they were. Either the castle had grown to life size or he had shrunk to the height a toy soldier would be if he were eleven years old, and it didn't really matter which, because it came to the same thing in the end.
    He began walking slower. He didn't exactly want to turn around and run, but he didn't exactly want to go on, either. At last he stood at the edge of the moat, looking up at the parapets, far above him. The castle presented a grim aspect. The drawbridge was up and the portcullis was down. The moat had real water in it now, and the water looked deep and cold. Roger shivered.
    "So this is Torquilstone," he said aloud, trying to sound jaunty, "and I'm at the siege of it."
    He wondered if he were meant to venture inside the castle, or if he hadn't better go find Robin Hood's attacking party instead. Yes, he decided, that would be much the safer plan.
    But when he looked around for the besiegers, no living soul was in sight. He must remember to tell Eliza she was a good ambush-maker, when he got back. If he ever did.
    At this moment a voice broke in on his thoughts. The voice came from a window slit in the watchtower next to the drawbridge.
    "Halt, paltry knave," said the voice.
    "I
am
halted," said Roger. "Paltry knave yourself," he added, but he didn't add it very loud. The window slit was too narrow for him to see the face of the gatekeeper, but he could tell from his voice that he wouldn't like him at all. He sounded, in fact, like a foul churl.
    "Stand where ye are," the churlish voice went on. "Come ye on aught of business with my lords, or mean ye mischief to us and ourn?"
    "No, I'm just looking," said Roger. "Now I'll be going."
    He turned to go. An arrow whistled past his ear, and then another. There was nothing for him to hide behind and if he ran he would be a perfect target; so he did the only thing he could think of. He fell flat on the greensward and shut his eyes.
    Behind him he heard a creaking sound that could only be the drawbridge being lowered, a sight that doubtless would have been very interesting at some other time, only not now. Then came a sound of mailed boots on stone, and a foot spurned Roger where he lay.
    There is nothing like being spurned by a mailed foot to make a person stop being frightened and start being angry instead. Roger sat up and glared around him indignantly.
    Three men in armor stood looking down at him.
    "What witless wight art thou," said one of them, "that cometh a-knocking at our door all half-naked of a morning?" He took Roger by the ear and pulled him to his feet.
    "Ow," said Roger.
    "Nay, 'tis a mere boy!" said another of the men.
    "'Tis a sign! 'Tis witchcraft!" cried the third, in alarm. "A changeling boy out of Elfland left on our doorstep in his shift, pardie! What can it mean?"
    "Don't be so superstitious, Lionel," said the first man. "More likely some scurvy Saxon trick. Be ye Saxon or Norman, boy? Parlez-vous français?"
    "Non," said Roger, in one of the two French words he knew.
    "Aha! What did I tell you? A Saxon spy!" cried the first man. "Quick! Hail him before our masters!"
    And Roger was seized and trundled across the drawbridge and through the outer courtyard and into the great hall of the castle keep. Two of the men hurried off in different directions to fetch their masters, and the third man, Lionel, was left on guard.
    Now that the worst seemed to be happening, Roger began to feel more cheerful, and even a bit reckless. After all, every magic adventure he'd ever read had turned out fine for the hero in the end. I do not know how he came to be so sure that he was the hero of this one, but he was.