Monstrous Races Read Online Free PDF Page A

behind them, all on horseback.
    Lord Lansdown sat rigidly on his huge black stallion, his tunic buttoned tightly around his throat. His greying dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and his cheekbones and eyebrow ridge were pronounced, as though he had too little skin to fully stretch over them. His moustache and beard were clipped short and his beard ended in a fine point. He slowly took off his leather riding gloves, never taking his eyes from the villagers. His wife was at his side, her orange hair piled high on her head and a white scarf around her face. Some of the orange colour was bleeding into her scarf, and her small, grey eyes peered down at them. Behind them was a boy with unkempt brown hair and dark skin towing a cart with his horse. There was a large box on the cart that was covered with thick green cloth, and the villagers could just make out a shape underneath it moving listlessly.
    ‘We have come here to bring you good news,' the man said haughtily. 'There is a reward offered for a stone that has been stolen from me. It looks like this,’ he announced, carefully producing a chain from beneath his tunic and holding it high in the air. The crowd jostled to look at the stone that was faintly glowing, as though the air was dancing around it. ‘It is blue and white, and is very unusual. There will be a handsome reward for those who find it.’ He paused and looked around at the crowd. 'We will be travelling South, and our messengers will ride through here from now on, you may pass on any information to them.’ Lord Lansdown cleared his throat and looked at each villager as he spoke.
    ‘Of course, there will also be punishments for any person who knows the whereabouts of the stone but who tries to keep this information from us. And these will be very severe indeed.’ He looked back at his riders. ‘My men here will see to that.’ His voice had a slight squeak to it, like fingernails dragged over polished wood. The villagers looked at one another, aware they would be closely watched from now on. ‘I am Lord Lansdown. I suggest that you remember it,’ he said, spurring his horse to ride away.
    Later that evening some of Lord Lansd own’s men accompanied him to an inn to sleep on soft beds with dry blankets, while the others camped just outside the village. George took the horses to the stable and asked the stable boy to treat them well and give them fresh hay and water. He then turned his attention to the box, pouring water into a long tube and putting glistening lumps of meat onto a long stick. He pushed the stick underneath the cloth and brought it out, empty now. There was a rhythmic chewing from inside the box, and occasionally it rattled. 
    He made it back to the inn as the light faded and he heard shouts and commotion coming from inside. Grabbing his rusting sword, he quietly pushed the door open with its tip. Through the gap he could see a fat man fall to his back violently as though he had been smacked in the chest by a great weight, and heard his skull hitting the flagstones. At the back of the room men and women were running down the stairs in their nightclothes, some more clothed than others. Lord Lansdown’s men were throwing their bags and cases down after them, taking up their Master’s belongings. George closed the door quietly and sat with his back against it, his shoulders sagging. He’d sleep in the stables with the horses this evening. It would be better that way.
     
    The next morning George slowly woke up to a nice warm feeling curling around his legs. He started to snuggle back into the warm hay and suddenly opened his eyes, as the nice warm feeling became cold and wet with a distinct and unfortunate smell. He sprang up into the air, straw falling from him like a discarded scarecrow. Thank goodness he’d taken off his trousers. He ran to the horse trough and poured water over his legs, swearing that if a horse could laugh then this one would be giggling now. She swayed