Rise of the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

folk off if they got in his way. But he was no soldier; had no military training even though he'd been called up to the armies of the local lord over the years and had even seen what could loosely be termed 'action'.
    He'd never faced an enemy sword on sword, or watched his own arrow pierce the body of an on-rushing foe.
    Even if he had, Marjorie knew, he'd still be scared of the black-armoured king's man that people called the Raven.
    Yet what could she do? She was only an abnormally skinny fifteen-year-old. She'd never, no matter how she tried, be able to draw a hunting bow never mind one of the giant warbows Robin or Little John used.
    Similar thoughts had assailed her for years, even before Robin had become an outlaw. Her frail body had always angered her, but she'd never believed she could do anything to overcome the weakness.
    Then the foresters had terrified and humiliated her, and Robin had left again, leaving them all to look after themselves, and Marjorie had decided enough was enough. She couldn't count on anyone to look after her – not her parents, not the burly blacksmith, not even her charismatic wolf's head brother.
    Matilda came at her again and, as before, Marjorie managed to twist to the side with a strangled cry, just evading the blow although the effort left her gasping and she could feel a pain in her side that was growing worse with every passing moment.
    She'd had enough of being the village weakling; the girl the adults looked down upon from sad, pitying eyes when they passed. She wanted to be like Robin. Of course, she wasn't stupid – she knew she'd never be the muscle-bound bear of a man her brother was, but she desperately wanted to toughen herself up. To learn how to wield a sword, or perhaps a crossbow since a bow would always be beyond her. Anything that she could use to defend herself and those she loved from the likes of Gisbourne and that filthy bailiff who had wanted to rape Matilda two years ago.
    Marjorie had never been told the full story about what had happened when Adam Gurdon had arrested Matilda, but she'd listened to the gossip and had formed a rough idea in her head which she suspected was pretty accurate.
    She was impressed by what the people said Matilda had done to defend herself.  Marjorie, at fifteen, had not been with a young man yet but many of the girls her age or even younger were already married and gossiped freely about it, so she had a good idea what a hard, blood-engorged spindle looked like. Knowing Matilda had managed to bite almost right through Adam Gurdon's manhood told her all she needed to know about her brother's wife: she was the perfect teacher.
    So, here they were.
    Matilda had, at first, refused outright to train Marjorie. Not only was the girl thin and sickly, but Matilda doubted her own ability to teach anyone the ways of combat. Besides, they had more than enough to occupy their time, since she herself assisted her father in crafting arrows and Marjorie helped her own mother around the house.
    But the girl had been persistent and eventually Matilda acquiesced. She didn't think the training would last for long before her student grew tired and fed-up and they could go back to normal life.
    “Ha!” Marjorie, who had seemed exhausted just a moment before, suddenly jumped forward, ramming the point of her own little practice sword into Matilda's ribs.
    “Ow, you little bastard!”
    Marjorie grinned and raised her sword defensively as her sister-in-law grasped her  bruised side and glared balefully at her.
    “You told me to thrust rather than swing the sword,” the girl shrugged innocently. “I'm just following your orders.”
    Matilda gritted her teeth and suppressed a smile. Will Scaflock had shown her how to fight with a sword and he'd based much of his technique – so he said – on the old Roman way of combat. They'd used short-swords rather than the unwieldy long-swords that men favoured nowadays and those smaller bladed weapons were ideal for